Read Ebook: She Would Be a Soldier; Or The Plains of Chippewa by Noah M M Mordecai Manuel Moses Montrose Jonas Editor

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 277 lines and 16975 words, and 6 pages

JASPER. In a short time, Jenkins, everything flourished; my cottage was neat, my cattle thriving, still I wanted something--it was a wife. I was tired of a solitary life, and married Kate, the miller's daughter; you knew her.

JENKINS. Ay, that I did; she was a pretty lass.

JASPER. She was a good wife--ever cheerful and industrious, and made me happy: poor Kate! I was without children for several years; at length my Christine was born, and I have endeavoured, in cultivating her mind, and advancing her happiness, to console myself for the loss of her mother.

JENKINS. Where is Christine? where is your daughter, neighbour Jasper?

JASPER. She left the cottage early this morning with Lenox, to climb the mountains and see the sun rise; it is time for them to return to breakfast.

JENKINS. Who is this Mr. Lenox?

JASPER. An honest lieutenant of infantry, with a gallant spirit and a warm heart. He was wounded at Niagara, and one stormy night, he presented himself at our cottage door, pale and haggard. His arm had been shattered by a ball, and he had received a flesh wound from a bayonet: we took him in--for an old soldier never closes his door on a wounded comrade--Christine nursed him, and he soon recovered. But I wish they were here--it is growing late: besides, this is a busy day, friend Jenkins.

JENKINS. Ah, how so?

JASPER. You know Jerry Mayflower, the wealthy farmer; he has offered to marry my Christine. Girls must not remain single if they can get husbands, and I have consented to the match, and he will be here to-day to claim her hand.

JENKINS. But will Christine marry Jerry? She has been too well educated for the honest farmer.

JASPER. Oh, she may make a few wry faces, as she does when swallowing magnesia, but the dose will go down. There is some credit due to a wife who improves the intellect of her husband; aye, and there is some pride in it also. Girls should marry. Matrimony is like an old oak; age gives durability to the trunk, skill trims the branches, and affection keeps the foliage ever green. But come, let us in.

CHRISTINE. Why, what a statue you are making of me. Pray, why not make a picture of it at once? Place me in that bower, with a lute and a lap dog, sighing for your return; then draw a soldier disguised as a pilgrim, leaning on his staff, and his cowl thrown back; let that pilgrim resemble thee, and then let the little dog bark, and I fainting, and there's a subject for the pencil and pallet.

CHRISTINE. Oh, do not say so, my gloomy cavalier; a soldier, and despair?

THE KNIGHT ERRANT.

It was Dunois, the young and brave, was bound to Palestine, But first he made his orisons before St. Mary's shrine: And grant, immortal Queen of Heav'n, was still the soldier's prayer, That I may prove the bravest knight, and love the fairest fair.

His oath of honour on the shrine he grav'd it with his sword, And follow'd to the Holy Land the banner of his Lord; Where, faithful to his noble vow, his war-cry fill'd the air-- Be honour'd, aye, the bravest knight, beloved the fairest fair.

They ow'd the conquest to his arm, and then his liege lord said, The heart that has for honour beat must be by bliss repaid: My daughter Isabel and thou shall be a wedded pair, For thou art bravest of the brave, she fairest of the fair.

And then they bound the holy knot before St. Mary's shrine, Which makes a paradise on earth when hearts and hands combine; And every lord and lady bright that was in chapel there, Cry'd, Honour'd be the bravest knight, belov'd the fairest fair.

CHRISTINE. Why, so, so--if you wish something to remind you of me, it will do.

"The enemy, in force, has thrown up entrenchments near Chippewa; if your wounds will permit, join your corps without delay--a battle is unavoidable, and I wish you to share the glory of a victory. You have been promoted as an aid to the general for your gallantry in the last affair. It gives me pleasure to be the first who announces this grateful reward--lose not a moment.

Your friend, MANDEVILLE."

I must be gone immediately.

JASPER. Ah! Lenox, my boy, good morning to you. Why Christine, you have had a long ramble with the invalid.

CHRISTINE. Lenox leaves us immediately, dear father; the army is on the march.

JASPER. Well, he goes in good time, and may success attend him. Ods my life, when I was young, the sound of the drum and fife was like the music of the spheres, and the noise and bustle of a battle was more cheering to me, than "the hunter's horn in the morning." You will not forget us, Lenox, will you?

--a pretty girl! I could have had her, but she wanted edication--she wanted the airs and graces, as our schoolmaster says.

JASPER. Well, farmer, you are an honest man, but I fear my Christine will not approve this match, commenced without her advice, and concluded without her consent. Then her education has been so different from--

JERRY. O, fiddle-de-dee, I don't mind how larned she is, so much the better--she can teach me to parlyvoo, and dance solos and duets, and such elegant things, when I've done ploughing.

JASPER. But I'm not sure that she will like you.

JASPER. Indeed!

JERRY. Yes--sarved a campaign, and was at the battle of Queenstown. What do you think of that?

JASPER. And did you share in the glory of that spirited battle?

JERRY. O yes, I shared in all the glory--that is--I didn't fight. I'll tell you how it was: I marched at the head of my village sogers, straight as the peacock in my farm yard, and I had some of the finest lads in our county, with rifles--well, we march'd and camp'd, and camp'd and march'd, and were as merry as grigs until we arrived at the river: half the troops had cross'd and were fighting away like young devils: ods life, what a smoke! what a popping of small arms, and roaring of big ones! and what a power of red coats!

JASPER. Well, and you panted to be at them? clubb'd your rifles, and dashed over?

JERRY. Oh no, I didn't--I was afear'd that in such a crowd, nobody would see how I fought, so I didn't cross at all. Besides, some one said, it were contrary to law and the constitution, to go into the enemy's country, but if they com'd into our country, it were perfectly lawful to flog 'em.

JASPER. And you did not cross?

JERRY. Oh no, I stood still and look'd on; it were contrary to the constitution of my country, and my own constitution to boot--so I took my post out of good gun shot, and felt no more fear nor you do now.

JASPER. No doubt. Admirable sophistry, that can shield cowards and traitors, under a mistaken principle of civil government! I've heard of those scruples, which your division felt when in sight of the enemy. Was that a time to talk of constitutions--when part of our gallant army was engaged with unequal numbers? Could you calmly behold your fellow citizens falling on all sides, and not avenge their death? Could you, with arms in your hands, the enemy in view, with the roar of cannon thundering on your ear, and the flag of your country waving amidst fire and smoke--could you find a moment to think of constitutions? Was that a time to pause and suffer coward scruples to unnerve the arm of freemen?

JERRY. Bravo! bravo! sergeant Jasper; that's a very fine speech--I'll vote for you for our assemblyman; now just go that over again, that I may get it by heart for our next town meeting--blazing flags--fiery cannon--smoking constitutions--

JASPER. I pray you pardon me. I am an old soldier, and fought for the liberty which you enjoy, and, therefore, claim some privilege in expressing my opinion. But come, your friends are idle, let us have breakfast before our cottage door.--Ah, Jerry, my Crissy would make a fine soldier's wife: do you know that I have given her a military education?

JERRY. No, surely--

JASPER. Aye, she can crack a bottle at twelve paces with a pistol.

JERRY. Crack a bottle! Come, that's a good one; I can crack a bottle too, but not so far off.

JASPER. And then she can bring down a buck, at any distance.

JERRY. Bring down a buck? I don't like that--can't say as how I like my wife to meddle with bucks. Can she milk--knit garters--make apple butter and maple sugar--dance a reel after midnight, and ride behind her husband on a pony, to see the trainings of our sogers--that's the wife for my money. Oh, here she comes.

JASPER. Christine, here is farmer Mayflower and his friends, who have come to visit our cottage, and you in particular.

CHRISTINE. They are all welcome. Good morning, Jerry--how is it with you?

JERRY. Purely, Miss Crissy, I'm stout and hearty, and you look as pretty and as rosy as a field of pinks on a sunshiny morning.

Christine. Heavens! what can this mean?

JERRY. Why, Miss Crissy, your father has consented that I shall marry you, and I've come with my neighbours to have a little frolic, and carry you home with me.

CHRISTINE. And am I of so little moment as not to be consulted? Am I thus to be given away by my father without one anxious question? Farmer, pardon my frankness; on this occasion, sincerity alone is required--I do not like you, I will not marry you--nay, do not look surprised. I am a stranger to falsehood and dissimulation, and thus end at once all hopes of ever becoming my husband.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet