Part 23 (2/2)
”No; that can not be, for me.”
”Why? I supposed that you were a Christian, as you travel with the Tunker.”
”Mary Panisciowa knows how my father died. I am his son. I swore to be true to his name. The Tunker says that I must forswear myself to become a Christian. That I shall never do. I respect the teachings of your new religion, and I love the Tunker and shall always be true to him, but I shall be true to the memory of my father. Mary Panisciowa, think how he died, and of the men who killed him. They claimed to be Christians.
Think of that! I am not a Christian. Mary Panisciowa, there is a spot that burns in my heart. I do not dissemble. I do not deceive. But that fire will burn there till I have kept my vow, and I shall do it.”
”Waubeno,” said the woman, ”listen to better counsels. Revenge only spreads the fires of evil. Forgiveness quenches them.--That is a n.o.ble letter,” she said to Jasper.
”Yes, a n.o.ble letter, and the marquis is an apostle of human liberty, a friend of all men everywhere. What brings him here?”
”The old French and new English families. His visit is unexpected. The people can not receive him as they ought to, but he is to dine at the tavern, and there are to be two grand receptions at the great houses, one at Mr. Edgar's. I wish I could see him and show him this letter. I shall try. But they have not invited me. They are proud people, and they will not invite me; but I shall try to see him. It would be the happiest hour of my life if I could take the hand of the great Lafayette.”
Mary Panisciowa was thrilled with her desire to meet General Lafayette.
Cannons boomed, drums and fifes played, and all the people hurried toward the landing. The marquis came in the steamer Natchez from St.
Louis. When Mary Panisciowa heard the old bell ringing she knew that the marquis was coming, and she hid the faded old letter in her bosom and wept. She sent a messenger to the tavern, who asked Lafayette if he would meet the daughter of Panisciowa, and receive a message from her.
Just at night she looked out of the door, and saw an officer in uniform and a party of her own people coming toward the house. The officer appeared before the door, touched his head and bowed, and said:
”Mary Panisciowa, I am told.”
”My father was Panisciowa.”
”He fought under General Lafayette?”
”Yes, he fought under Lafayette, and I have a letter from the general here, written to him more than forty years ago. Will you read it?”
The officer took the letter, read it, and said:
”You should meet the general.”
”You are very kind, sir. I want to meet him; but how? There is to be a reception at the Morrisons, but I am not invited. The Governor is to be there. But they would not invite me.”
”Come to the reception at the Morrisons. I will be responsible. The marquis will welcome you. He is a gentleman. To say that a man is a gentleman, is to cover all right conduct. Bring your letter, and he will receive you. I will speak to Governor Coles about you. You will come?”
”May my friend Waubeno come with me? I am the daughter of a chief, and he is the son of a warrior. It would be befitting that we should come together. I wish that he might see the great Lafayette.”
”As you like,” said the officer, hurrying away with uncovered head.
Mary Panisciowa prepared to go to the grand reception. Early in the evening she and Waubeno, followed by Jasper, came up to the Morrison mansion, where a kind of court reception was to be held.
The streets were full of people. The houses were everywhere illuminated, and people were hurrying to and fro, or listening to the music in the hall.
Lafayette was now nearly threescore and ten years of age, the beloved hero of France and America, and the leader of human liberty in all lands. He had left Havre on July 12th, 1824, and had arrived in New York on the 15th of August. He was accompanied by his son, George Was.h.i.+ngton Lafayette, and his private secretary, M. Leva.s.seur. His pa.s.sage through the country had been a triumphal procession, under continuous arches of flags, evergreens, and flowers, bearing the words, ”Welcome, Lafayette.”
Forty years had pa.s.sed since he was last in America. The thirteen States had become twenty-four. He had visited Joseph Bonaparte, the grave of Was.h.i.+ngton, and the battle-field of Yorktown. His reception in the South had been an outpouring of hearts. And now he had turned aside from the great Mississippi to see Kaskaskia, the romantic town of the vanished French empire of the Mississippi.
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