Who Spoke Next
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Eliza Lee Follen >> Who Spoke Next
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WHO SPOKE NEXT
BY MRS. FOLLEN
With Illustrations by Billings and others
THE OLD GARRET
Boys are not apt to forget a promise of a story. Frank and Harry did
not fail to call upon their mother for the history of the old
musket.
"It appeared to me," said the mother, "that the old musket was not
very willing to tell his story. He had a sort of old republican
pride, and felt himself superior to the rest of the company in
character and importance. When he had made himself heard in the
world hitherto, it had always been by one short, but very decided
and emphatic word; he despised any thing like a palaver; so he began
very abruptly, and as if he had half a mind not to speak at all,
because he could not speak in his own way.
"None but fools," said he, "have much to say about themselves--
'Deeds, not words,' is a good motto for all. But as I would not be
churlish, and as I have agreed, as well as the rest of my
companions, to tell my story, I will mention what few things worth
relating I can recollect.
I have no distinct consciousness, as my friend the pitcher or the
curling tongs has, of what I was before the ingenuity of man brought
me into my present form. I would only mention that all the different
materials of which I was formed must have been perfect of their
kind, or I could never have performed the duties required of me.
My first very distinct recollection is of being stood up in the way
I am standing now, with a long row of my brethren, of the same shape
and character as myself, as I supposed. This was in a large building
somewhere in England. I, like the curling tongs, was at last packed
up in a box, and brought to America, but it took a rather larger box
to take me and my friends, than it took to pack up him and his
friends, with all their thin straddle legs."
Creak went the curling tongs at this personal attack.
"We were brought to this country," continued the old musket, "by an
Englishman. Little did he think how soon we should take part against
our Fatherland, or he would have kept us at home.
One day, the elder brother of the gentleman who owned our little
friend curling tongs came into the shop where I then was, and, after
looking at all the muskets, selected me as one that he might trust.
As he paid for me, he said to the man, "This is an argument which we
shall soon have to use in defence of our liberties."
"I fear we shall," said the shopman, "and if many men are of your
mind, I hope, sir, you will recommend my shop to them. I shall be
happy to supply all true patriots with the very best English
muskets."
My new master smiled, and took me home to his house in the country.
The family consisted of himself, his wife, and three children--two
sons and a daughter. The eldest son was eighteen, the second
sixteen, and the daughter fourteen. The mistress of the house turned
pale when she saw my master bring me in and quietly set me down in a
corner of the room behind the old clock.
Presently the two young men entered. The younger shuddered a little
when he saw me, but the elder clapped his hands and exclaimed,
"That's good! We have got a musket now, and the English will find
out that we know how to use it!"
"Pray to God, my son," said his mother, "that we may never have to
use it."
The boy did not give much heed to what his mother said, but took me
up, examined me all over, and, after snapping my trigger two or
three times, pronounced me to be a real good musket, and placed me
again in the corner where his father had put me at first.
The next day, my master took me out to try me. I confess I was not
pleased at the first charge with which I was loaded. When I felt the
powder, ball, wadding and all, rammed down so hard, it was as
disagreeable to me as a boy's first hard lesson in grammar is to
him, and seemed to me as useless, for I did not then know what I was
made for, nor of what use all this stuffing could be. But when my
master pulled the trigger, and I heard the neighboring hills echo
and reecho with the sound, I began to feel that I was made for
something, and grew a little vain at the thought of the noise I
should make in the world.
I did not then know all I was created for; it seemed to me that it
was only to make a great noise. I soon learned better, and
understood the purpose of my being more perfectly.
A few days after this, the family was all astir some time before
sunrise. There was a solemn earnestness in their faces, even in the
youngest of them, that was very impressive.
At last, my master took me up, put me in complete order, loaded me
and set me down in the same place, saying as he did so, "Now all is
ready." His wife sighed heavily. He looked at her and said, "My
dear, would you not have us defend our children and firesides
against the oppressors?"
"Yes," she said, "go, but my heart must ache at the thought of what
may happen. If I could only go with you!"
They sat silent for a long time, holding each other's hands, and
looking at their children, till, just at sunrise, his brother John,
that sleeping child's grandfather, rushed into the house, crying,
"They are in sight from the hill. Come, Tom, quickly, come to the
church." My master seized me in a moment, kissed his wife and
children, and without speaking hastened to the place where the few
men of the then very small town were assembled to resist the
invaders.
Presently about eight hundred men, all armed with muskets as good as
I was, and of the same fashion, were seen. These men had two cannon
with them which made a fearful show to the poor colonists, as the
Americans were then called.
Our men were about one hundred in number. The lordly English marched
up within a few rods of us, and one called out, "Disperse, you
rebels. Lay down your arms, and disperse."
Our men did not however lay down their arms. My master grasped me
tighter than before. We did not stir an inch. Immediately the
British officers fired their pistols, then a few of their men fired
their muskets, and, at last, the whole party fired upon our little
band as we were retreating. They killed eight men, and then went on
to Concord, to do more mischief there.
I felt a heavy weight fall upon me; it was my master's dead body;
and so I learned what muskets were made for. His fingers were on the
trigger; as he fell, he pulled it, and in that sound his spirit
seemed to depart.
The British marched on to Concord, and the poor brave people of
Lexington, who had so gallantly made the first resistance, were left
to mourn over dead companions and friends.
Soon the eldest son of my master discovered his father among the
slain. The poor fellow! I never shall forget his sorrow. He groaned
as if his heart would break, and then he laid himself down on the
ground by the side of his father's body, and wept bitterly.
One must be made of harder stuff than I am, to forget such a thing
as this. I do not ever like to speak of it, or of the painful scene
that followed. The poor widow and her fatherless children! It seemed
a dreadful work that I and such as I were made to perform.
But there were other things to be thought of then. The British soon
returned from Concord, where they had destroyed some barrels of
flour and killed two or three men.
In the mean time, the men from all the neighboring towns collected
together, armed with all the muskets they could find, and annoyed
them severely on their return by firing on them from behind stone
walls.
My master's brother took me from the corner where I had been again
placed, and joined the party. He placed himself behind a fence by
which they must pass, and took such good aim with me that down fell
a man every time I spoke.
Other muskets performed the same work. What they did you may judge
of, when I tell you that, while two hundred and seventy-three
Englishmen fell that day, only eighty-eight Americans were killed. I
will not talk of what I myself performed, for I despise a boaster,
but I did my share of duty, I believe.
About two months after this, uncle John, as the children called him,
came again to borrow me. He was going to join the few brave men who
opposed the British force at Bunker or Breed's Hill.
"Sister," he said, "you will lend me the musket, will you not? I
cannot afford to buy one, and we must teach these English what stuff
we are made of."
"Let me go, Mother," said the eldest boy. "I am old enough now; I am
almost nineteen; let me go."
His mother said nothing; she looked at the vacant chair which was
called his father's; she considered a while, and then took me and
put me into her son's hands.
"God bless you, William," she said, "and bring you back safe to us;
but do your duty and fear nothing."
She kissed him, and he left her. I felt William's heart beat bravely
as he shouldered me. He was a fine fellow. We were as one. I was
proud of him, and he of me. No man and musket did better than
William and I, on that never-to-be-forgotten day; but, in the midst
of the battle, a shot wounded William's right arm, and he let me
fall.
His uncle led him off the field and sent him home to his mother. A
countryman, who had nothing but an oak stick to fight with, seized
me as I lay on the ground, and here I met with the first
mortification of my life--he actually used me to dig with. This was
a contemptible feeling in me, and I have since learned to be ashamed
of it, and to know that all labor is equally honorable, if it is for
a good end. They had not tools enough for making entrenchments, and
they actually used the bayonet, of which I had been proud, for this
purpose. In the confusion after the battle, I was forgotten. I was
left at the bottom of the works in the mud.
It was a hard thing for me to be parted from William, and to feel
that I should never be restored to my corner in his mother's room
behind the old clock; but I had a conviction that I had taken part
in a great work, and I enjoyed our triumphs greatly.
This, you will think, no doubt, was glory enough for one musket; but
a greater still was in reserve for me. It is with muskets as with
men, one opportunity improved opens the way for another, and every
chance missed is a loss past calculation; for every gain that might
have grown out of that chance is lost too.
Every one should remember that, as he fights his way through the
battle of life; and, when tempted to slacken his fire, think of what
the old revolutionary spirit, speaking through my muzzle, taught on
that day,--'hold on, and hold fast, and hold out. Never stop, stay,
or delay, but make ready!--present!-- fire!--and, again and again,
make ready!--present!--fire!--till every round of ammunition is
gone.'"
Here the dry, rusty, unmodulated tone, in which the old king's arm
had, up to this time, spoken, suddenly changed; and it seemed as if
a succession of shots had been let off. Then, bringing himself down
to the floor with a DUNT off of the little tea chest full of old
shoes, on which he had stood leaning against the brick chimney,
exactly as he used to do grounding arms seventy years ago, he
quietly dropped back into the drowsy tone of narrative, and
proceeded:--
"Yes--never flag nor hang back. The greater the danger, the more do
you press up to the mark. So we did at Trenton in the Jerseys, on
that most glorious day of my life of which I am now about to tell
you.
I must tell you that I had the honor of fighting under General
Washington; for I had been marched down to Trenton with a stout-
hearted teamster, named Judah Loring, from Braintree, Massachusetts,
who, after our battle at Bunker Hill, in that State, picked me up
from the bottom of the works, where, for want of pickaxes, I had
been, as I told you, serving as a trenching, tool, and made himself
my better-half and commander-in-chief. Excuse a stately phrase; but,
after the battle of Bunker Hill, I never could screw up my muzzle to
call any man master or owner again.
We found only a few thousand men and muskets there, principally from
Virginia, Pennsylvania, and the Jerseys, with a few companies of New
Englanders; and a steadier, sturdier set of men than these last
never breathed. They had enlisted for six months only, and their
time was out; but they never spoke of quitting the field.
It was now December, in the midst of snow and ice; and not a foot
among them that did not come bleeding to the frozen path it trod.
But, night after night, the men relieved each other to mount guard,
though the provision chest was well nigh empty; and, day after day,
they scoured the country for the chance of supplies, appearing to
the enemy on half a dozen points in the course of the day; making
him think the provincials, as we were scornfully called, ten times
as numerous as we really were. But alas, I am old, I find, and lose
the thread of my story. It was of Washington I meant to speak.
Nobody could know General Washington that had not seen him as we
did, at that dark hour of the struggle. It seemed as if that man
never slept. All day he was planning, directing, contriving; and all
night long he would write--write--write; letters to Congress,
begging them to give him full powers, and all would go well, for he
did not want power for himself, but only power to serve them;
letters to the generals in the north, warning, comforting, and
advising them; letters to his family and friends, bidding them look
at him and do as he did; letters to influential men every where,
entreating them to enlist men and money for the holy cause.
He never rested; and, with the cold gray dawning, would order out
his horse and ride through and around the miserable tents, and where
we often slept under the bare heavens, and every heart was of bolder
and better cheer as he passed.
His look never changed. It was just the same steady face, whatever
went on before it; whether he saw us provincials beaten back, or
watched a thousand British regulars pile their arms after the
victory at Trenton.
He looked as he does in the great picture in Faneuil Hall, on the
right, as you stand before the rostrum. He stands there, by his
horse, just as I saw him before the passage of the Delaware, with
the steady, serious, immovable look that puts difficulties out of
countenance. It is the look of a man of sense and judgment, who has
come to the determination to save the country, and means to transact
that piece of business without fail.
I never saw that quiet, iron look change but once. I will tell you
about it. It was one of those days after the battle of Trenton, when
he tried to concentrate the troops that he had scattered over the
country, to bring them to bear upon the British. His object was to
show the enemy that they could not keep their foothold.
Between Trenton and Princeton he ordered the assault. The Virginians
were broken at the enemy's first charge, and could not be rallied a
second time against the British bayonets. General Washington
commanded and threatened and entreated in vain.
We of New England saw the crisis, marched rapidly up, and poured in
our fire at the exact moment, Judah Loring and I in the very front.
The British could not stand the fire. We gave it to them plenty, I
tell you. Judah Loring loaded, and I fired over and over and over
again, till it seemed as if he and I were one creature.
A musket, I should explain to you, feels nothing of itself, but only
receives a double share of the nature of the man who carries it.
I felt ALIVE that day. Judah was hot, but I was hotter; and, before
the cartridge box was empty, he pulled down his homespun blue and
white frock sleeve over his wrist, and rested me upon it when he
took aim. He was a gentle-hearted fellow, though as brave as his
musket.
"She's so hot," says he, doubling his sleeve into his palm, "that I
can't hold her; but I can't stop firing NOW!"
I met his wishes exactly, I knew by that word; for he always called
every thing he liked, SHE. The sun was SHE; so was his father's old
London-made watch; so was the Continental Congress.
General Washington saw the whole;--the enemy, driven back before our
fire, could never be brought to look us in the face again. We held
the ground;--the Virginia troops rallied; --General Washington took
off his cocked hat, and lifted it high, like a finished gentleman,
as he was. "Hurrah!" he shouted, "God bless the New England troops!
God bless the Massachusetts line!" [Footnote: This was all fact,
related by one who was present.] And his steady face flamed and gave
way like melting metal.
Ah, what a set of men were those! I felt the firm trip-hammer of all
their pulses beat through the whole fight, for we stood in platoon,
shoulder to shoulder. I felt my kindred with every one of them. They
had more steel in their nerves and more iron in their blood than
other men. Not a man cared a straw for his life, so he saved from
wrong and bondage the lives of them that should come after him.
That day's work raised hope in every man's heart through the land.
Said I not well that it was the most glorious of my life?
I have but little more to say. I have said more than I meant to,
more perhaps than was wise to say of my own glory. But the thought
of those brave days of old makes one too talkative.
I must tell you, however, how I at last came here. Judah Loring
brought me home safe; he was a very honest fellow, and seeing the
initials scratched on my butt-end, and 'Lexington' underneath, he
went there on purpose to find to whom I belonged.
My friend William claimed me, and I was again placed behind the old
clock in the little parlor. His mother looked very calm, and almost
happy, but not as she once did; she sighed heavily when William
brought me home. William's wound in his arm healed after a while,
but his arm was disabled. By great self-denial and exertion, his
mother had got him into college, and he was to be a schoolmaster.
The sight of me was painful to this good woman, and she gave me to
uncle John who kept me safely and, on the whole, honorably till his
son placed me here.
There is one disgrace I have met with which, in good faith, however
unwillingly, I ought to mention. Uncle John used me to kill skunks
occasionally. This there was no great harm in doing, only he should
not have talked about it. I disliked, it, however, exceedingly.
Once, I am told, when he was in the South, some southern gentleman,
for some trifling offense, challenged him.
Uncle John was told that he, as the party challenged, might choose
his weapons.
"Well," he said to his enemy, "if you will wait till I can send for
my skunk gun, I am ready for you."
I have since, I do hate to say it, been called the skunk gun
repeatedly. To be sure, no one that has any reverence in his nature
speaks of me in this way. Uncle John had not much, but his son, the
father of that little girl, treats me with due respect, and forbids
them to call me the skunk gun.
I was once the defender of liberty, and am ready to be so again. I
was not made to kill skunks, those disgusting little animals. I hate
to think of them.
Pardon me for keeping you listening to me so long; I have done. I
wish to hear now what that respectable-looking broadsword has to
say. We two ought to be friends."
"I was born a gentleman," said the broadsword. "I was always
considered the sign, the symbol of one. Not many years since, a
sword was so essential to the character of a gentleman that a man
without one by his side, was, in fact, not considered a gentleman.
My master, who was also yours, Mr. Curlingtongs, was one the
officers in the company of Cadets at its first formation. He had the
honorable title of Major, and all his best friends called him Major.
Little did I think once that I should be condemned to the disgrace
of spending my old age in a garret with crooked curling tongs,
broken pitchers, old baize gowns, noseless tea-kettles, old
crutches, a foot stove, and, worse than all, a spinning wheel.
My only peers here are the venerable musket and the respectable wig.
Even they have seen too much hard service to be able fully to
appreciate the feelings of a gentleman who has been brought up as I
have. The degradation the musket especially endured, in being used
as a spade by such a very common sort of person as Judah Loring--a
degradation of which, far from being ashamed, he seems actually
proud; all this, I say, my friends, makes a wide separation between
us never to be forgotten or got over."
"I'm agreed, the further off the better," growled the musket. The
old wig also gave a sort of contemptuous hitch, that seemed to say,
he agreed with the musket.
"I consider myself," resumed the broad-sword, "to be a perfect
gentleman. I have never denied myself by any sort of labor. I have
been considered something to show, something to be used only as a
terror to evil doers.
It strikes me that I really made the Major; he never could appear in
his company or perform his duties without me; his queue was not more
essential. He was not a Major without me. Every one feared me when
they saw my shining blade out of its scabbard, and it was really
amusing occasionally to see the effect I produced. There have been
swords that have done bloody work, but I have never been so defiled.
The Boston Cadets, you know, are the Governor's body guard, and such
is the anxiety of people sometimes to see a real live governor when
he has on his governor's dress and character, that the women and
children crowd around him so that he can hardly find room to move
and breathe. At one of these times of great pressure, my master took
me out and flourished me round bravely. O, how they all scampered!
just like a flock of frightened geese, merely at the sight of me.
Such is the effect of my mere appearance. To be sure, the Major
laughed whenever he told this story. I know not why, for it is
perfectly true.
Once, when all the men in the family were gone away,--it was since
we have lived in the country,--the children were in the upper
chamber, and the doors were open below, and they saw a frightful-
looking beggar coming up the avenue; he was lame and had a patch
over his eye. He looked terrible; but one of the girls ran for me,
and took me out of the scabbard, and shook me at him out of the
window, and screamed out to him to go off; whereupon he turned about
and hobbled off as fast as he could.
One of the little girls said she did not believe there was any harm
in the poor beggar, and that she would go down and let him in, and
give him something to eat, but the biggest boy shook me at her for
only saying so, so as to dazzle her eyes and frighten her, and she
became silent and remained where she was.
Many such feats I have performed, too many to relate. Children, to
be sure, especially big blustering rude boys, have occasionally
played tricks with me. When they play Bombastes Furioso they come
for me."
"All right," said the musket.
"These little rogues have gapped my fine edge, and one good-for-
nothing scamp used me to cut down cabbages, but, as he came very
near cutting down his younger brother at the same time, he was sent
to bed supperless by his father. I have really never performed any
drudgery. Like Caesar, 'I came, I saw, I conquered.'"
At these words, there was a sort of scornful laugh from every
venerable person in the garret. Even the old baize gown shook with
merriment; this vexed the sword so completely that he stopped
speaking; and, notwithstanding their entreaties, would not resume
the story or speak another word.
There was a deep silence, for a few moments, which was broken, at
last, by the old wig, who called upon the warming pan to tell her
story; the warming pan obeyed, and spoke as follows:--
"I pass over my early life. Time was when I was thought much of in
this family. Early in the autumn, I was rubbed and polished till you
could see your face in me.
On the first cold night, some nice walnut wood embers were carefully
put into me; I had the pleasure and honor of being passed up and
down my mistress's bed till it was well warmed, and this service I
performed for her constantly till the warm weather returned.
When any one in the family was ill, I was employed on the same
service for him or her; or when guests came to pass the night, I
performed this office for them, and this was all apparently which my
existence was for. A very monotonous life I led, to be sure, but I
am of a quiet nature and care not for much variety.
I remember only one or two things which occurred beyond this dull
routine; these I will relate and then give place to some more
interesting speaker.
One day, I was suddenly seized upon by one of the maids, and carried
out into the orchard, when she began beating me with an iron spoon,
and making as much noise as she possibly could; presently others of
the family joined with tin pans and kettles, and such a babel of
sound you never heard; this, I found afterwards, was to stupefy a
swarm of bees and make them alight which, at last, they did. Then
one of the men with a handkerchief over his face, and with gloves
on, swept the bees into a new hive, and put it by the side of the
old ones.