Part 7 (1/2)
and the words were cold as ice and sharp as steel, and the men went out rebuked and checked, and washed away their hot temper in wine instead of blood. For the vision of death, and the judgment after death, which Bradley's words and manner had evoked, was not to be faced at that hour.
Yet, withal, Bradley was rather a common-looking man, ill-mannered and rough as hemp to the generality; but not so where childhood or calamity appealed to his strength or forbearance. In other respects, General Howe had, not inaptly, described him as ”very unlike other men when at chapel, but not much so, when among horses in the stable, or selling saddles in the shop.”
This was the man who came up from the waterside early one morning in the beginning of July, singing Dr. Watts' lyrical dream of heaven:
”There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign.”
His voice was strong and melodious, and it was evident that Agnes had inherited her charming vocal power from him. He did not cease as he entered the house, but continued his hymn until he was in the little sitting-room, and Agnes finished the verse with him:
”And see the Canaan that we love, With unbeclouded eyes.”
He sat down to breakfast with the heavenly vision in his heart, and reluctantly let it pa.s.s away. But his spiritual nature had hands as well as wings, and he felt also the stress of the daily labor waiting him.
”The expedition leaves for the Connecticut coast to-day,” he said.
”General Clinton is determined to strike a blow at the people in New Haven, and Fairfield, and New London.”
”Well, father? What do you say to that?”
”I say it is better they should be struck down than that they should lie down.”
”Matthews has but just returned from ravaging the river counties of Virginia, and Clinton from Stony Point. Have they not made misery enough for a little while? Who is going with the Connecticut expedition?”
”Tryon, and he goes to do mischief with the joy of an ape.”
”I heard trumpets sounding and men mustering, as I was dressing myself.”
”Trumpets may sound, and not to victory, Agnes. Fire and pillage are cowardly arms; but I heard Tryon say, any stick was good enough to beat a dog with, and all who differ from Tryon are dogs. Vile work! Vile work! And yet all this does not keep New York from dancing and drinking, and racing, and gambling, and trading; nor yet New York women from painting and dressing themselves as if there were no such persons as King George and George Was.h.i.+ngton.”
”Yes, father, a great many of our best families are very poor.”
”Those not employed by the government, or those who are not contractors or privateers, are whipped and driven to the last pinch by poverty. Ah, Agnes, remember New York before this war began, its sunny streets shaded with trees, and its busy, happy citizens talking, laughing, smoking, trading, loving and living through every sense they had at the same time. Now there is nothing but covert ill-will and suspicion. Our violent pa.s.sions have not cured our mean ones; to the common list of rogueries, we have only added those of contractors and commissioners.”
”I think war is the most terrible calamity that can befall a people, father.”
”The despair of subjugated souls would be worse.”
”Do they never doubt you, father?”
”Howe never did. That amiable, indolent officer might have liked me all the more if he had doubted me. Clinton is a different man; and I think he may have thought my loyalty to royalty lukewarm, for he sent for me on the King's birthday, and after some talk about a horse and saddle, he said, 'Mr. Bradley, it is the King's birthday; shall we drink his Majesty's health?' And I answered him, 'if it please you, General.' So he filled a gla.s.s with Portugal wine for me, and then filling one for himself raised it, and waited for me to speak. There were several officers present, and I lifted my gla.s.s and said, 'To King George the Third! G.o.d bless him, and make him and all his officers good John Wesley Methodists!'”
”Then, father?”
”Clinton put down his gla.s.s with a ringing guffaw, and the rest followed him. Only one bit of a beardless boy spoke, and he said: 'you think, Bradley, Methodism might make his Majesty a better king?' And I answered, 'I am not here to judge his Majesty's kings.h.i.+p. I think it would make him and all present, better and happier men.' I did not try to go away or s.h.i.+rk questions; I looked squarely in their faces until General Clinton said, 'Very good, Bradley. You will remember Saladin and the new saddle for him'; and I answered, 'I will see to it at once, General.' So I went out then, and I think they were not all sure of me; but they cannot do without me, and they know it is better to put their doubts out of inquiry. Wise men obey necessity, and that is true for them as well as for me. Agnes, I want to know something about that little girl of Semple's? I don't like her coming here day after day. She will be seeing or hearing something she ought not to see or hear. Women are dangerous in politics, for, as a rule, politics either find or leave them vixens.”
”Maria is to be trusted.”
”You can not be sure. She is pa.s.sionate, and though a woman in a temper may not intend to burn any one, she pokes the fire and makes a blaze and sets others looking and wondering. I can tell you of many such women in New York; they think ill of their neighbor, and the thoughts get to their tongues, and before they know the mischief is done. Then, like the wolf in the fable, they thank G.o.d they are not ferocious. Oh, no! They have only loosed the dogs of war and left others to set them worrying.”
”How you do run on, father! And not one word you have said fits the little Maria, no, nor any one of the Semples. Indeed, I am sure Madame is as true a patriot as you could find anywhere.”