A Virginia cavalier

by Molly Elliot Seawell

Seven days’ hard travelling, at the beginning of the wintry season, brought the party to Logstown, not far from what is now Pittsburg. The journey had been hard, snow having fallen early, and, the fords being swollen, the party were obliged to swim their horses across the mountain streams. But George had not found time heavy on his hands. Captain Vanbraam and Lance discovered that they had served in different campaigns in the same region, and, without forgetting the status between an officer and a private soldier, they were extremely good comrades, much to George’s delight.

On their arrival at Logstown, Black Bear at once went in search of his father, the great chief of one of the Six Nations, and the other chiefs were assembled in the course of a day or two. George found them much incensed against the French, but, like all their tribe, before they could act they had to have many meetings and a great oratorical display. George, who loved not speech-making, made them but one brief address, and by using all his powers managed to get Tanacharison and representatives of the other tribes off, and in a few days more they arrived at a French outpost. It was merely a log-house with the French colors flying over it. George, waiting until dusk, and leaving his Indian allies out of sight, taking only with him Vanbraam and Lance, as his servant, rode up to the door and knocked. Three French officers appeared, and, on seeing two gentlemen in uniform, the senior, Captain Joncaire, civilly asked them, in broken English, to alight and sup with them.

George, with equal politeness, told them that he was the bearer of a letter to M. de St. Pierre, the commandant at the French fort farther up, but would be pleased to accept their hospitality.

Inside the house was quite comfortable, and the party, except Lance, who waited on the table, soon sat down to supper. As George had frankly informed them of his mission, it behooved them to be prudent, and so they were until the wine began to flow. Captain Vanbraam had not thought it his duty to let on that he understood French, and the conversation had been conducted in such English as the French could command. George, although he could not speak French, could understand it a little, especially with the help of the abundant gestures the French used.

He had always had a contempt for men who “put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains,” and the spectacle soon presented by the French officers made him swear inwardly that never, so long as he lived, would he put himself in the condition they were in then. These men, brave and otherwise discreet, passed the bottle so often that they soon lost all sense of prudence, and, turning from broken English to French, told things in regard to their military plans which they would have died rather than betray. Captain Joncaire, forgetting, in his maudlin state, that George had said he did not understand French well, turned to him and said, in French:

“Ah, you English mean to drive us out. Well, let me tell you, we are not to be driven out. We expect to go to war with your country soon, and this is a good place to begin. We know that you can raise two men to our one, but you have a dilatory, foolish governor in Virginia, and he will let us overrun the country before he does anything to stop us.”

As he kept on, giving information about his people that he should never have done, and which George partly understood, such keen contempt came into George’s eyes that a gleam of soberness returned to Captain Joncaire, and for a few minutes he said no more. But “when the wine is in the wit is out,” and the Frenchmen continued to talk in the foolish manner which awaits the wisest man when he makes a beast of himself with liquor.

At ten o’clock George and Captain Vanbraam had to tear themselves away from the Frenchmen, who, drunker than ever, tried to hold them back by embracing them.

As they made their way back to their camp Captain Vanbraam repeated every word the drunken officers had said. George spoke little. The spectacle was not only disgusting but painful to him.

Next morning, early, Captain Joncaire sought out their camp, and professed great surprise at seeing the Indians, whom he declared to be his friends. He invited them to the house, where George well knew there would be liquor and cajolery in plenty for them.