act had shivered the image to dust; that he had worn a mask and coined a counterfeit of integrity; that he had betrayed her in betraying himself-this she could not forgive him. She hurled her defiance out upon the night-she wished the stars might feel it, the ether carry it, the winds cry it in Mr. Roanoke's ear. charge. And why should she care to which one of the great embattled hosts she lent her labors? One was open, one was shut. Were there not human hearts behind them both, was not pain and agony the same, victor or vanquished? South as well as North were not mothers forlorn, children orphaned, wives made desolate! Would not the fallen fire leap up on some hearth when her hands raised the husband to life and sent heart would find the universe smiling round her again when she heard of the fever assuaged, of the wounds closed, of the pale face ready to bronze once more! What widow of Nain thank God in good works because her child was dead and is alive again! The tears trembled in eloquent passion as Madeleine pictured the work before her. Her experience of the year before here found its use. And so, to crown the vicissitudes of her youth, Madeleine Schaeffer became an army nurse. For somewhere out under the clear, solemn starry night she knew he must be. Somewhere she saw him reposing, a lazy length, the tent-him home for the furlough? What pure young curtain flapping in the wind and looped back to let in the great camp-blaze that glittered again from answering sword and bayonet, and the flask of wine burning in its light like a mass of blood-red flame. Somewhere she saw him start, look up, go out, pace up and down the riverbank knee-deep in fragrant dew, search the crystal darkness for some sign, turn as if one plagued him, as if an ancient sorrow stung him, as if the stars knew the spell, as if the light air that shook the blossoms and waved the plumy trees and lifted and dallied with the lock upon his brow could whisper it, as if the wide calm night were in the secret. "Go into battle with a heavy heart!" sighed Madeleine Schaeffer, "for oh, Geoffrey Roanoke, I hate you!" So once more the world was before Miss Schaeffer; but now with no use to put it to. It was not the time to think of schools; no sewing could be had, of course; water-colors there were none to buy. Want was already in the city at other boards; the wolf at the door of many a household. Yet stay in that house the betrothed of its master another day she would not! IX. The twenty-first of July had died in flame over the land. Reports of a dreadful reverse were darkly flying through the Northern wires. Friend and foe lay mingled indistinguishably, dead and dying. Along the fields, through the woods, across highways, in lonely glades, life was returning to its great fountains. Over the shadowy battle-places strange sights were seensome prowling camp robber, some parcel of soldiers bivouacking beside their fire with a terrible chiaro-oscuro around them, into which some dying charger reared his head with starting eyes and shivering mane, and was gone again, like the There was no work for those white hands thing of a medieval legend; some devoted nurse, of hers-no burden for the back, except that safe as with brothers, carrying water, stanching which it could not bear, the imposition of de- the gash, receiving the last word; some surspair; for when it again seemed ready to desert geon with his staff and ambulances; grave-digher she clung to life as the young cling. She gers already at their task, all half-like phantoms sat wondering at herself, recalling her trials, sheeted in growing gloom. Night deepened, half accusing destiny, wholly forlorn, when the the smothered winds rose again, breathed along thought flashed over her of those suffering in- the earth, lifted the dank tress from the face finitely more pain than fear or hunger. She that felt their sigh no longer, wound away across saw the gashed limb, the rushing tide of the field and trench where, over one long, low place, severed artery, the little blue hole where death the yellow flag floated and fell with its wafts, went in. entered among the crowded wards, curled along the fevered brows and soothed the burning lids of eyes that fixedly watched the night-lamp swinging to and fro. Nun-like figures moved between the cots, waited on knife and tourniquet and splinter, slaked raging thirsts, met the needs of the hour. No one found rest in that place yet. She saw the bodies of those who had died brought into the hospital dreadfully mangled with the shattering Minié ball-invention of hell-that the nurses might learn to bind up the wounds of those who lived if they did not go mad as they learned. She saw stiff and stark, out under the midnight, shining white in the cold dew drench, the dear dead brows of those for whom mother and maid were weeping and praying, hoping and fearing; but deaf to them was prayer or praise-icy corpses whom never again should arms enfold or lips salute, whom death held, and the grave. And willing hands were needed to swathe and heal those who were left; they died, she knew, when some woman's care had saved them. Why not seek those hospitals of the field, and give her life to the salvation of countless others worth more than hers? There was work, and for sustenance the army crusts or the young ravens of heaven should take her in She took up her little basket of lints and bandages and moved on. A curtain hung between that bed and the next, the last in the row, more breathing-place about it, over it an opening in the roof letting in a strip of sky, a wandering film of cloud entangled with a mesh of starbeams. A surgeon already bent there, examining the state of him to whom this corner had been allotted. The wounded man lay immovable, a length of granite, the hair was matted on his forehead, his arm and a part of the bedclothing thrust across his face. As the surgeon rose with the fiat in his eye, his glance rested on | all gorgeous dye swam and mingled in a sea of the nurse, severe and pale as any conventual, glory. It was a world of color and of silencewho was lifting the heavy arm aside, who with no sound, no chirp of birds, no mad chaos of cool fingers parted the thicket of hair, gathered music, such as this hour of prime is wont to off the dew of pain, bathed the forehead with hear—if you listened, far off you heard the silver clear, icy water. A shudder had run through fall of some rill among the rills—a silent world her as she had lifted down that arm-she had of color, a splendid chamber of the dead-God's staggered and caught at the bedside, then had hush spread itself over all the scene. Ah, we gone on with her task. The surgeon scanned pass! we sin, we rave, we die, we strike ourher an instant; it seemed to him a wraith, an selves frantic against the universe, it rolls on apparition-he reached his hand across to touch scathless, and we are not; the glory drowns us, the gloom blots us, we pass-and each morning the great Immutable spreads its wide wings regnant over Nature. And yet we have conquered it. like the shining water-drops of the lake that the wild swan soaring shakes from his wings. "My God, Madeleine! Is it you?" he said. She did not give him her hand-both were busy-she only turned her head, and with it one-this Nature, this matter, rejected, spurned, clear, deep glance-in it was love unfathomable, in it was trust and hope, in it peace and rest. But at the word the man there tore the cloths away, the dark, heavy lids lifted. Mr. Roanoke rose on his arm and transfixed the look between them. "So Develin! quits at last!" cried he, hoarse and low, and with the voice the crimson torrent of life gushed from his lips again. In a moment it was over, he leaned his head upon Madeleine's bosom; with one arm he would have bent her face to his, but it fell powerless. "Drink," said Develin, "it is relief!" "I want none of your potions," replied he. "This moment is peace-the next would be hell!" "It is "But his wound ?" asked Madeleine. The Doctor's eye said, "Deadly." "You lie, man!" cried Roanoke. you that die! I am alive! I live and throbher arms are about me! Ah, Madeleine!" he murmured, "you forgive me-you love me at least-ever so little you love me?" She bent and touched his forehead with her cheek. "On my lips, Madeleine-on my lips as breath leaves them-add my life to yours-receive my soul. Never! Never! Never! Not yours, Develin!" He half lifted his head, struck out the arm toward the other. "Mine, mine! I say! Bound, thralled, plighted, wedded, above ground, under, here and hereafter; and God's curse-" A vast sigh tore its way up through the bubbling blood, the arm fell, the head drooped forward, the dead weight sunk from Madeleine's failing arm and lay prone along the couch, the two slipped upon their knees and sent up that parting soul on wings of prayer. And when they rose a steadfast planet-great and golden, climbing the open vault of sky-hung there above them to set its seal upon a finished work. Dawn was breaking over the hills, low down among their hollows sunrise seethed and sent great auras steaming over their backs, some single ragged pine, high upon their tops, caught all the ray and stood transfigured in a miracle of fire; some red-hot jewel seemed dissolved in these ruby mists that curled up and swallowed the stars, and faded into the brightening fields of azure; great golden clouds and suffusions of Morning was at hand; others had relieved Madeleine; she stood a moment at the door; she stepped down and moved away to the woods whence that far brook's voice might steal-if so be in any running living water she could wash away this stain of rusting blood, this grime of the dissolution of souls; cool the heated heart a moment amidst fair fresh scenes, if any such remained, or she should madden, herself. Before her eyes ever hung the ghastly visions of the night; in her ears were cries and moans, imprecations and prayers, and dreadfuler silence: she threw herself down in the long grass and hid her face there. Some little nest, uncrushed by all the iron heels of strife, whispered its halffledged matin in her ear. She rose and found the water-source, and laved her hands as if she would incarnadine its stream. But with the calm ascendence of the hour calm gathered too about her senses; she stood, watched the great constellation that lay like a fading frosty dream in a western gap of sky, and met the sweet influences of the Pleiades. As she lingered, a hand, a heavy hand, imposed upon her shoulder. "Madeleine!" said a voice beside her. He had left her at that death-bed hours ago. She turned, but dared not look-and then hope, conviction, joy, all mounted like a flame. Arms folded her in; lip to lip, heart to heart, masks fallen, veils shriveled-it was he, and she loved him! Holding her, shielding her, slowly he drew the ring from her finger, dropped it deep into the running waters of the brook, and covered its place with his kisses; and Madeleine, the proud, sensitive Madeleine, looked wonderingly at the spot, as if she expected to see them hanging there like jewels, and kissed it after him. He left the camp that day; would she go with him? Ah, no; her place was here. There were enough others glad and waiting to fill it. Yet they needed her. But he needed her so much more! Thrice since that morning has report of Madeleine flown over the seas. Once-rapt from the past, from all the disturbed visions of the months that were gone, in a little city of the desert, where every where great plains and lines of level distance rested heart and soul, and led them out upon the infinite-a place known as the city of roses and jasmines and lovely women. There were gardens forever green, streets tapestried with verdant boughs, fountains that shook the air into coolness, blossoming orange-trees that made of it nothing but a perfume, nightingales that bubbled to her through all the depth of her reveries and dreams. And when the relaxation was complete, long sandy gallops to waken her, long clambers up mountain heights, rest again by the blue and tideless sea. The next one hears of her is where high in an old Roman palace an open casement looks out upon the carnival. A gentleman, dark and quiet, whose smile kindles his face as a rare sunbeam parts the shade, stands there, with his eyes -black, brilliant eyes full of inner fire-bent under their drooping lids upon the lady sitting there beneath him. She leans a little forward, creamy shoulders rising out of the scarlet bodice, the veil of black lace just tangled in the hair, and all the shimmer and glitter and turmoil of the scene below reflected in the pulsing carmine of her cheek, the restless glistening of her glance, till raised and meeting her husband's, the lips part and the teeth flash, and there rings out a low, lingering laugh like silver chimes. Once more-an old fortress in the Channel Islands has resounded again to hammer and chisel, and has slowly hewn itself into a low, quaint dwelling. It is Spray Rocks again, but with the compass-points inverted-the chalky cliffs, the verdant steeps, the mass of blossoming growth smiling up to heaven some threescore miles from shore. A boat puts in with slowly-dropping sail, puts in from the sunset, where Gulf Stream and west wind have murmured the latest tidings overseas, parts the smooth sea sheeted in royal tincts, and sheds a shower of gems from either side the keel. A lady watches from the height, her face an instant interposes between him and heaven, then she comes springing down the rocky path to meet the sailor. Together they wind up the way again, together pause above the likeness of some great sea-shell that, out under the leaves and breezes, and watched by a shaggy Pan or Faun, cradles for them its pearl. One bends and bears away the pearl in her bosom, together they wind on in the fragrant alleys and falling twilight and disappear. mother country, whose policy was to keep them in a state of complete vassalage. They were compelled, secondly, to watch very vigilantly, and sometimes to fight valiantly, the savages who swarmed upon their borders; and they were compelled, thirdly, to maintain, by force of arms, at the same time their own political existence and the honor and integrity of the British realm against French rivals, who formed-by actual settlements, missionary and trading stations, and forts (each of which was a nucleus of auxiliary Indian power)-an arc of perpetual menace, sweeping through the wilderness over twenty degrees of latitude and thirty-five degrees of longitude, in magnificent curve, from Acadié to the delta of the Mississippi. Out of their relations with the French colonies grew most of the severe contentions to which the Anglo-Americans were subjected after their bloody conflict with the New England savages in 1676, known as King Philip's War. An intermittent feud between England and France had existed for almost a thousand years, and at every outbreak their mutual aversion became stronger. It grew into almost international hatred; and so intimate were the relations of the colonies of the two nations in America to their respective parents that, when the latter quarreled and fell to blows, the children became warmly interested and practically engaged in the conflict. Thus it was when France offended England, in 1688, by sheltering in her bosom the Catholic King, James the Second, when driven from the throne of the Stuarts by an indignant people. The offense produced a declaration of war on the part of England, and for more than seven long years William of Orange, who took James's imperial seat, and Louis the Fourteenth waged hostilities against each other. This conflict, known as King William's War, was fierce and sanguinary, for there was a conflict of religious as well as of political ideas, opinions, and practices. In it the respective colonies of the two nations in America were engaged. Those of the English suffered most. By traffic, intermarriage, and a more sensuous religious system, the French had acquired great influence over the Indians, and exerted it with terrible effect on the Northern and Eastern borders of the English settlements. The French Jesuits, with fervent zeal, excited the savages to renew their fierce warfare against the English heretics, and invited them to become the allies of the French in war. The results of that alliance were soon fearfully apparent in a pathway of blood and desolation along the frontier, marked by atrocities which stirred with hottest indignation all of the English colonies from the St. Croix to the Savannah. New England arose in her might and dealt severe retaliatory blows for herself and England-for England, notwithstanding the latter was even then planting the heel of oppression upon her neck. The Confederacy of 1643 was no more, and Massachusetts, its head and front, whose charter had been seized by a minion of King James, found herself bound hand and foot by a new one given her by King William, in ernor of Massachusetts, bore the commission of which the prerogatives of the monarch were too commander-in-chief of all the British forces in broadly asserted to please a free people. By it North America. Regarding the English colotheir liberties were abridged. The King re- nies collectively as a unit politically, he called served the right to appoint the Governor, his upon them all to furnish troops and supplies for deputy, and the Secretary of the Colony, and of an expedition against the town and fortress of repealing the laws within three years after their Louisburg, on the island of Cape Breton, held passage. The people were greatly dissatisfied; by the French, and, because of its strength, yet this and nearly all the other colonies were called the "Gibraltar of America." Massachuthenceforth royal provinces-vassals to the King setts took the lead. Rhode Island, New Hamp-until the great Revolution in 1776. But the shire, and Connecticut furnished their quota of evil, in the case of Massachusetts, was not un- troops. New York sent artillery, and Pennsylmixed with good; for the theocratic element in vania provisions. In the school of common danher civil government, which fostered bigotry and ger the inhabitants of these provinces were rapintolerance, lost its power. Full liberty of con- idly learning the value, importance, and absolute science in the worship of God was granted to all necessity of UNION, and perceived, not remote, Christian sects except Roman Catholics, and the but near, a growing NATION, whose arms should right of suffrage was extended to others than stretch from the St. Lawrence to the Gulf of members of Congregational churches. Mexico, with the lofty Alleghanies at its back. King William's War ended in 1697. Four years later the exiled James died, and King Louis acknowledged his son James, commonly known as The Pretender, to be the lawful heir to the throne of England. The English sovereign was again offended, for the crown had been settled on Anne, the Protestant daughter of James. On this and another account war was declared against France. It continued eleven years, and is known in American history as Queen Anne's War. Again the French sent hordes of Indians upon the English frontiers. The scourge was terrible. Remote settlements were abandoned. Blood flowed in almost every valley of the New England frontier. Mutual dangers and common sufferings united the exposed New England colonies by a bond of heartiest sympathy; and in 1707 Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and New Hampshire coalesced in measures for defense and retaliation. Connecticut, always jealous of her individual rights, and untouched by the blight of the savage, refused to join the league. The other three colonies sent a land force to Acadié, to co-operate with an English squadron, and it was not long before the cross of St. George floated over that picturesque country. Acadié was taken from the French, annexed to England, and named Nova Scotia, or New Scotland. The conquest of all Canada from the French was now in contemplation, when war was ended by the treaty of Utrecht, in 1713. For thirty years afterward there was peace in America, except on the extreme Southern borders of the white settlements, and the people were left to cultivate democratic ideas and flaunt the banner of a growing independence in the faces of the obnoxious royal governors. At the beginning of 1744 France and England were again arrayed in deadly hostility to each other, on the declaration of the former. The licentious George the Second was then on the English throne, and this conflict, which lasted about four years, is known in American history as King George's War. The American colonies were again disturbed by the quarrels of the mother countries, but not so extensively and disastrously as before. The energetic Shirley, GovVOL. XXV.-No. 150.-3 C Her The result of the expedition against Louisburg was highly satisfactory. The fort and town and the island of Cape Breton passed from the possession of the French forever. The pride of France was humbled. She made impotent attempts to recover her lost treasures. hatred for England was intensified. Peace came by treaty at Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1748, but it was only a hollow truce. France intended it to be such. She was then putting forth mighty energies for national aggrandizement in the Mediterranean Sea, in the East and West Indies, and in North America. She hoped that, while England was slumbering under the lullaby of the treaty, she might strike deeper into the virgin soil of the New World the roots of French empire; for already her Jesuit priests, with the banner of the cross in one hand and the truncheon of secular enterprise in the other, had penetrated the wonderful valleys of the Great West, and revealed their boundless wealth to the rulers of France. Now, in the middle of the eighteenth century, began that great struggle between France and England for universal empire in America, known in our history as The French and Indian War. The French were not more than one hundred thousand in number, and were scattered in trading settlements for almost a thousand miles along the St. Lawrence and the Great Lakes; also at eligible points on the Mississippi River and its tributaries and the Gulf of Mexico. The English numbered more than a million. They occupied the Atlantic sea-board, in the form of agricultural communities chiefly, along a line of more than a thousand miles between the Alleghany Mountains and the sea, and far Northward toward the St. Lawrence, from the St. Mary's in Florida to the Penobscot in Maine. The trading posts and missionary stations of the French, deep in the wilderness, at first attracted very little attention; but when, after the capture of Louisburg, they built strong vessels at the foot of Lake Ontario, and commenced the erection of a cordon of fortifications, more than sixty in number, between Montreal and New Orleans, the English perceived the necessity of arousing to immediate and vigorous action. Disputes concerning boundaries soon arose between the General of New Netherland, in his cowardly French and English colonists, and in 1753 they perplexity called upon the heads of families in kindled into open war. The Indian tribes of New Amsterdam for advice, when twelve "sethe vast wildernesses became the allies of the lect men" were chosen to represent the people French, except the Iroquois Confederacy of the in that first council. When the business in Six Nations, in the province of New York, who hand was disposed of, these councilors, to the had assumed the attitude of neutrality. They, astonishment and indignation of the fiery Govtoo, had exhibited uneasiness, and a disposition ernor, took into consideration some of the "grievto wed their fortunes to those of the other dusky ances of the people." Constituted authority nations. frowned upon them, but the fatal step-fatal to The English Government and the Anglo- despotism-had been taken. The seed then American colonies, fully awake to the impend-planted would germinate. From that hour the ing danger, perceived the necessity for an imme- idea of representative government in New Nethdiate union of the several provinces against the erland filled the minds of the people; and a few French; also the special importance of securing years later, when that province was called New the friendship or neutrality of the Six Nations, York, they received a Charter of Liberties, and who might stand as a bulwark along the north- their voice was ever afterward heard potentially ern frontier of New York. Such union had been in the affairs of state. Thus it has ever been; suggested by almost every colony in its corre- thus it will always be. The Spirit says to Inspondence with the Home Government; and at tellect and Muscle, Be strong; Be earnest; Be length, in September, 1753, the Earl of Holder- faithful; Be true to the Right; for in that reness, the English Colonial Secretary, addressed spect all men were "created equal." "Life, a circular letter to the several colonies, propos- Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness" are the ing a convention of commissioners from each to "inalienable rights" of every human creature. assemble at Albany, in the province of New When these are denied man's divinity inquires: York, chiefly for the purpose of renewing treat"If I'm yon haughty lordling's slave, ies with the Six Nations. "This," wrote the By Nature's law designed, Lords of Trade to the Governor of New York, Why was an independent wish E'er planted in my mind?" when referring to it, "leads us to recommend one thing more to your attention; and that is, to take care that all the provinces be (if practicable) comprised in one general treaty, to be made in his Majesty's name, it appearing to us that the practice of each province making a separate treaty for itself in its own name is very improper, and may be attended with great inconvenience to his Majesty's service." Let us go to the record, and learn the effect and result of Lord Holderness's circular letter. James de Lancey, son of a Huguenot exile, a man of great energy and large fortune, was then acting-Governor of the province of New York, and upon him was imposed the task of calling a convention of commissioners from the several provinces. The city of Albany was apWhat short-sighted Lords of Trade were these! pointed the place, and the 14th day of June, What could "Dunk Halifax, J. Grenville, and 1754, the time for the assembling of that ConDupplin" have been thinking about when they gress of commissioners. Only seven of the thirrecommended this measure of Union? For nine- teen colonies responded. The representatives ty years or more the “Board of Trade and Plan- of these did not all arrive until the 18th, when tations" had been trying, by oppressive naviga- Lieutenant-Governor De Lancey directed Section laws, restrictions upon colonial manufac-retary Banyar to invite all of the commissioners tures, and other devices, to keep the colonies present in the city to meet him in council the weak and absolutely dependent on the mother next morning at the City Hall. They did so, country; now that very Board actually recommended a scheme calculated to give enormous strength to the colonies, and to direct them to the highway to absolute independence! They were unintentionally encouraged to take a bold stride toward nationality by a political union, and the assumption of one of the most important functions of sovereignty, namely, the making of a treaty. The hint was not lost on the colonists. It fell like fruitful seed in rich soil, and produced in the colonial mind abundant hopes of union and nationality, if not of absolute independence. The Lords of Trade contemplated only a temporary confederation for a specific purpose; the colonists thought of a "perpetual union," and construed the letter in the spirit of their de-sachusetts Bay-Samuel Willis, John Chandler, Oliver sires. Lovers of freedom never take less than despotism offers them-generally more. History is full of examples of the fact. The student remembers how the bad Kieft, Director when it was found that New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, Pennsylvania, and Maryland were fully represented. The whole number appointed from those provinces was twenty-five, and they were all present. The Council of the Governor of New York formed a part of the assembly. The Six Nations, on whose account this council had been called, were represented by one hundred and fifty chiefs. That confederacy of un The following are the names of the Commissioners from the several provinces, in the order in which their credentials were received: New York-James de Lancey, Joseph Murray, William Johnson, John Chambers, Will iam Smith. New Hampshire-Theodore Atkinson, Richard Wibbird, Meshek Weare, Henry Sherburne, Jun. Mas Partridge, John Worthington. Connecticut-William Pitkin, Roger Wolcott, Elisha Williams. Rhode IslandStephen Hopkins, Martin Howard, Jun. Maryland-Benjamin Tasker, Abraham Barnes. Pennsylvania-John Penn, Richard Peters, Isaac Norris, Benjamin Franklin. |