RODNEY RIDES WITH DISPATCHES
Rodney had been at home but a short time when he realized that important events had occurred in his absence.
“Mother,” he said one day, “it looks as though the king will have to send over a new governor in place of Lord Dunmore, or there’ll be trouble. You know, Colonel Lewis and his men were mad enough to fight both him and the Indians because, instead of punishing the Indians, he made peace with ’em. I hear he had trouble before he left Virginia on the expedition over the mountains, and is having it now.”
“Yes, he dissolved the Assembly because, out of sympathy with Boston, it appointed a fast day. England, you know, closed the port of Boston. The year before Governor Dunmore dissolved the Assembly because it expressed sympathy with Massachusetts. I fear he is too arbitrary.”
“Well, they do as they have a mind to after all. Last year, I understand, Mr. Jefferson and Colonel Washington and others met at the old Raleigh Tavern 153 and arranged to have correspondence with all the colonies so they could all act together if necessary.”
“Yes, they also met there five years ago and resolved not to import goods from England, and, before they went home last June, they met at the same place and planned for the Colonial Congress they held in Philadelphia last September. I believe these meetings were in what is called the Apollo room. I remember dancing there when I was a girl. It is a large room with a big fireplace at one end. I expect the king’s ears would tingle if he could hear all the angry words that have been spoken against tyranny in that room. Oh, I don’t know what it all will come to. There must be faults on both sides. I think Patrick Henry is too impetuous for a safe leader. I’ve been told that he believes the colonies should declare themselves independent of England. That would mean a terrible war. I do hope we may escape such a calamity.”
The king had heard of the words spoken in the Apollo room of the old tavern. Governor Dunmore, an irritable, haughty Scotch nobleman, with little respect for the people, also had heard enough to fill his heart with rage. He sent the legislators, many of whom had ridden many miles to the capital at Williamsburg, back home with his disapproval. He would teach them submission!
On their part, the people had no thought of submission. Wherever they met there was a sound as of angry bees.
“I think our people must have much of right on their side, or such men as Colonel Washington, who is an aristocrat with much to lose and very conservative, ’tis said, would not favour what is being done in opposition to the British ministry,” said Mrs. Allison. Rodney, while seeing the matter largely through his mother’s eyes, nevertheless recalled the words he had heard fall from the lips of the rough frontiersmen. He knew that they were ready to fight, indeed many of them eager for a conflict, confident that they, who could clear the land, build homes in the wilderness and defend them against the Indians, could likewise defy the tyranny of King George. The boy became restless. He wanted to participate in the agitation which was noticeable on all sides, indeed the air seemed charged with it.
There was little work to be done on the farm during the winter. Hearing that Mr. Jefferson was then at his home, Rodney decided to visit Monticello. There he met with a warm greeting, though a shade of disappointment was in his face when he learned that the great man had been so busy he had not followed the fortunes of the Allison family, and did not even know that Mr. Allison had fallen at the battle of Point Pleasant. For the first time Rodney now doubted whether after all the man who had paid off the mortgage, and thwarted Denham, was really an agent of Mr. Jefferson. Finally, an opportunity came for assuring himself. His host was admiring Nat when Rodney said: “The colt is in fine condition, handsomer than ever. 155 I nearly lost him. Denham wanted him and, when he started to foreclose, he took possession of Nat.”
“Denham foreclosed? Have you then lost the home? I wish I had known of it, I might have prevented that.”
“Some kind friend learned of it and paid the mortgage; neither mother nor I know who it was. I thought he might have been your agent.”
“I am glad you think I would have assisted had I known, but this is the first I have heard of the matter. You see I have been very busy and away from home much, and not in a way to hear. I’m very glad you were rescued from the clutches of Denham.”
“He seemed determined to have both the place and the horse. Both Thello and Mam offered to sell themselves, even suggested that to Denham, but he told them he didn’t want any old, worn out niggers on his hands. I’m glad I wasn’t there,” and the lad’s eyes blazed with indignation as he thought of the old miser’s greed.
“Denham is said to be as ardent a Tory as he dares to be,” remarked Mr. Jefferson, as though to himself. Then, turning to the boy, he looked into his face, and Rodney felt as though his inmost thoughts were being read.
That he stood the test well appeared in the next words of Jefferson.
“I believe your experience with the Indians has greatly matured you. How old are you?”
“I am well on to sixteen, sir.”
“In other words,” replied his host with a smile, “you are fifteen with ardent hope of soon being sixteen, and I’ll warrant extremely desirous of active and honourable employment. The colt, too, looks as though he wanted to exercise his faculties as well.”
“Sir, I am very anxious for employment. There is not much I can do at home this winter. Indeed, the little place will barely afford existence and I need to earn money.”
“What I have in mind will demand discretion and judgment beyond your years, as well as fidelity to a trust. Of your fidelity I have no question, and am inclined to believe that, with your intelligence and the experience you have had, you will be able to meet the requirements.”
“Won’t you give me a chance, Mr. Jefferson?” There was pleading in the boy’s eyes and in the tone of his voice.
“Rodney, I will, with your mother’s permission. You explain to her, but tell no one else, that the work will consist in carrying messages to different parts of the colony. Supervision of the work being done by the various committees of safety, and quick and reliable communication between the men taking the lead in this business, require such service as you will be expected to perform. Nat looks as though he might be depended on for the quickness, and to you must be left the discretion. You must have eyes as well as ears and use both more than the tongue. The employment will not be without slight danger, for, after a time, our opponents 157 will inevitably discover what you are doing. Then, in the present unsettled state of things, the long rides, some of the time at night, will demand courage and prudence.”
“I’m sure mother will consent. There certainly won’t be the danger there was living among the Indians.”
The man smiled. “I doubt if your mother would consent to expose you to those conditions again. I will write to her and you may be the bearer of the message and plead your cause.”
With the letter finally in his pocket, and Nat making use of a free rein to gallop like the wind, Rodney Allison felt as though he were entering upon a new world with much more of sunshine and hope than for a long time he had known. The following week he began his duties by setting out for Mount Vernon with a message for Colonel Washington, and another for Richard Henry Lee, who, also, had been a delegate to the first Colonial Congress.
Angus saw that something was afoot and was displeased at Rodney for not taking him into his confidence. “Where now, Rodney?” he said, as he sauntered into the Allison yard, where his friend was bidding his mother good-bye.
“I’ve got to take quite a long ride on one of Mr. Jefferson’s business matters; I don’t quite know how far it will take me.”
“You go prepared for trouble,” replied Angus with a nod at the butts of two horse-pistols which could be seen under the flaps of the holsters.
“Those are some father had with the saddle,” replied Rodney.
Angus winked and said no more, though it was evident he would like to have done so.
“Well, good-bye, Angus, and good-bye, mother. Don’t expect me back till I get here,” said Rodney, vaulting into the saddle and riding away at a furious gallop, his head up and shoulders thrown back and as full of a sense of his own importance as is permitted to a modest lad, such as Rodney Allison really was.
Before him lay long stretches of miserable roads, clogged with snow or mud, a bleak landscape, not to mention many inconveniences which the travellers through that region were then obliged to endure. But all things come to an end and so, one crisp morning, the lad reined Ned into the road leading to Mount Vernon.
Now, those of us who visit the place feel that we approach the shrine of our country. To Rodney it was a visit to one of the finest plantations in all the Old Dominion, and its owner was one of the most influential citizens as well as one of the wealthiest. The general appearance of the place that morning was much as one now finds it, save for the evidences then seen of the little army of negroes who worked on the plantation. The smoke curled lazily up into the frosty air; the majestic Potomac flowed past between bleak banks on which the first green of spring had not shown itself. A kinky haired coloured boy was promptly on hand to hold the horse, and another met him at the door.
“Talk as little as possible and see everything,” was his mother’s parting advice, and he thought of it as he looked about him. On all sides were evidences of thrift and he felt the atmosphere of home.
How Washington loomed before the lad’s eyes on entering the room! Not that he was unduly long of limb, for, though a giant in stature, he was perfectly proportioned; but he seemed to fill the room with his presence. Rodney had wondered how he would compare with the man he so ardently admired, but he could find no point of resemblance between the man who greeted him and the host of Monticello, save in the courteous, kindly manner of both. The boy’s first thought was of the masterful manner of the man before him, yet those calm, blue-gray eyes, looking out from under the heavy brows, did not embarrass him.
This is the man who Ahneota believed was guarded by the Great Spirit, was the thought which flashed through his mind as Washington extended his hand in greeting, the man who had dared take Governor Dinwiddie’s message into the enemy’s country, who had saved the remnants of Braddock’s panic-stricken troops amid a hail of bullets. How could such a massive figure have escaped, with men falling all around him?
Rodney delivered his message and received a reply, was introduced to Mrs. Washington and given refreshments and departed rejoicing that his new work was affording him such pleasant experiences. What satisfaction it must be, he thought, to be so rich, have 160 such a fine home and be respected by all one’s neighbours. If he had such a plantation as this he would hunt and fish to his heart’s content, and Lisbeth Danesford would be proud to introduce him to her cousins from London, and he would not condescend to notice them either, unless they were different from Mogridge, the insolent fellow! What had become of him? Anyhow, though the “Chevalier” finally had gotten the money, there was the satisfaction of winning it from Mogridge. Ah! Rodney, you were not experienced in the tricks of gambling or you would have known that, but for the “Chevalier” watching them, Mogridge and his “pal” would have stripped you of every farthing.
Rodney had read the letter Lisbeth had written from London. He was glad she was finding the nobility, the lords and dukes, not to mention duchesses, such uninteresting people, and that she longed for Virginia. Had she come home? It would be but little out of his way to ride around past “The Hall.” No, he would not call, for he would not wish to meet the squire after the shabby manner in which he had treated them. Possibly he might meet Lisbeth on the road. She was a mighty fine girl, and, if she did get him into that scrape with Roscome’s bull, she had gotten him out. From the girl his thoughts reverted to the man he had just left.
The boy recalled that firm mouth, the grave dignity, and the something about his personality which had said to the lad as to others: “You can trust me.” 161 Rodney Allison was never afterward to doubt George Washington. The next year, when it was said Washington had declared that if necessary he would raise a thousand men at his own expense and march them to Boston, Rodney exclaimed, “He’ll do it, too!” When Boston was evacuated he said, “I knew it.” When Washington, in the face of all sorts of difficulties, led his scattering forces in masterly retreat before the victorious British, Rodney was to say, “He’s doing all that man can do.” But this is getting ahead of the story, for young Allison is now on his way to the home of Richard Henry Lee, who later was to propose independence in the Continental Congress, when to do so might mean loss of not only his property but his life as well, for King George would have liked to make an example of at least a few prominent “traitors,” could he have got them in his clutches.
The meeting with Mr. Lee was for Rodney another pleasant experience; a fine man, and what an agreeable voice he had! Then the lad turned Nat’s head toward home, well pleased with the success that so far had attended his journey.
Two days of travelling brought him to the neighbourhood of his old home. He was aware of a dull ache in his throat as he rode by the school house. It seemed as if he saw his father bowed over the rude bench within. In the distance he caught a glimpse of “The Hall.” There was a feeling of homesickness with it all, and he would have given all that his scant purse contained to see Lisbeth and have her know that 162 he had become a person of some importance. Wouldn’t the squire rave if he knew the errands he had in charge. Ah, but those stiff-necked Tories would have to yield!
As he rode past “The Hall” he looked long at the house. The squire galloped up behind and passed him with a stare and a salute, not recognizing him.
“I wonder he didn’t remember Nat,” thought Rodney, and it was surprising because the squire was a great admirer of a good horse and knew the “points” of all the best in the county.
A little farther along lived the Roscomes. There he was sure of finding a place to spend the night. It was then about four in the afternoon. He would have time to get his supper and then ride up on the hill for one more look at the familiar view.
The Roscomes, father and son, owned but a small plantation, but their hospitality was princely and it was with difficulty he got away for the hill.
Hitching Nat in a grove at the foot, he climbed to the top just in season to see the sunset and the extended view, which had been so familiar to him, so that he felt well repaid. On his way back, and as he was unhitching the horse, he heard voices in the road which ran near the grove.
“I say, me ’earty, I’ve about enough o’ this dirty country. I’d like to put me two legs across the back of a fine ’orse, an’ I’d ask no questions of the owner.”
“Right ye are, Bill. At the speed we’re walkin’ we’ll git to Occoquan about midsummer, I’m thinkin’.”
“They’ve ’orses in plenty ’ereabout to go with their 163 muddy roads. They’d not miss a couple, though they think more of a ’orse than they do of a nigger, I’m told.”
“We’d have two an’ ask no questions, but they’ve both dogs and niggers, an’ one or both always sleeps in the stable.”
“I tell ye wot, d’ye mind the lad and girl go riding by when we was eatin’ a bite beside the road, along back?”
“I did an’ thought ridin’ would do me a sight more good than them.”
“They wouldn’t ’ave no guns an’ would be easy to scare. Suppose if we meet ’em we give ’em the ’int an’ not wait for an answer?”
“We’d have the whole country at our heels.”
“An’ there wouldn’t be a ’orse in the lot could overtake us or me eye knows not a good one.”
Rodney looked to the priming of his pistols, then mounted Nat and followed slowly after the men.