this neighbourhood?”
“I did; and a queer York fashion it is to give a house a name, just as you would a Christian being; that must be a Roman Catholic custom, and some way connected with idolatry.”
“Out of all doubt. It is far better to say, for instance, that we are going to breakfast at Mr. Mordaunt’s-es-es, than to say we intend to stop at Lilacsbush.”
“Oh! you be, be you? Well, I thought it would turn out that some such place must have started you off so early. It will be a desperate late breakfast, Corny!”
“It will be at ten o’oclock, Jason, and that is rather later than common; but our appetites will be so much the better.”
To this Jason assented, and then commenced a series of manoeuvres to be included in the party. This we did not dare to do, however, and all Jason’s hints were disregarded, until, growing desperate by our evasions, he plumply proposed to go along, and we as plumply told him we would take no such liberty with a man of Herman Mordaunt’s years, position and character. I do not know that we should have hesitated so much had we considered Jason a gentleman, but this was impossible. The custom of the colony admitted of great freedom in this respect, being very different from what it is at home, by all accounts, in these particulars; but there was always an understanding that the persons one brought with him should be of a certain stamp and class in life; recommendations to which Jason Newcome certainly had no claim.
The case was getting to be a little embarrassing, when the appearance of Herman Mordaunt himself, fortunately removed the difficulty. Jason was not a man to be thrown off very easily; but here was one who had the power, and who showed the disposition to set things right. Herman Mordaunt had ridden down the road a mile or two to meet us, intending to lead us by a private and shorter way to his residence, than that which was already known to us. He no sooner saw that Jason was of our company, than he asked that as a favour, which our companion would very gladly have accepted as a boon.
Chapter IX
“I question’d Love, whose early ray
So heavenly bright appears;
And love, in answer, seem’d to say,
His light was dimm’d by tears.”
—Heber
It was not long after the explanation occurred, as respects Jason, and the invitation was given to include him in our party, before Herman Mordaunt opened a gate, and led the way into the fields. A very tolerable road conducted us through some woods, to the heights, and we soon found ourselves on an eminence, that overlooked a long reach of the Hudson, extending from Haverstraw, to the north, as far as Staten Island, to the south; a distance of near forty miles. On the opposite shore, rose the wall-like barrier of the Palisadoes, lifting the table-land, on their summits, to an elevation of several hundred feet. The noble river, itself, fully three-quarters of a mile in width, was unruffled by a breath of air, lying in one single, extended, placid sheet, under the rays of a bright sun, resembling molten silver. I scarce remember a lovelier morning; everything appearing to harmonize with the glorious but tranquil grandeur of the view, and the rich promises of a bountiful nature. The trees were mostly covered with the beautiful clothing of a young verdure; the birds had mated, and were building in nearly every tree; the wild-flowers started up beneath the hoofs of our horses; and every object, far and near, seemed, to my young eyes, to be attuned to harmony and love.
“This is a favourite ride of mine, in which Anneke often accompanies me,” said Herman Mordaunt, as we gained the commanding eminence I have mentioned. “My daughter is a spirited horse-woman, and is often my companion in these morning rides. She and Mary Wallace should be somewhere on the hills, at this moment, for they promised to follow me, as soon as they could dress for the saddle.”
A cry of something like wild delight burst out of Dirck, and the next moment he was galloping away for an adjoining ridge, on the top of which the beautiful forms of the two girls were just then visible; embellished by neatly-fitting habits, and beavers with drooping feathers. I pointed out these charming objects to Herman Mordaunt, and followed my friend, at half-speed. In a minute or two the parties had joined.
Never had I seen Anneke Mordaunt so perfectly lovely, as she appeared that morning. The exercise and air had deepened a bloom that was always rich; and her eyes received new lustre from the glow on her cheeks. Though expected, I thought she received us as particularly acceptable guests; while Mary Wallace manifested more than an usual degree of animation, in her reception. Jason was not forgotten, but was acknowledged as an old acquaintance, and was properly introduced to the friend.
“You frequently take these rides, Mr. Mordaunt tells me,” I said, reining my horse to the side of that of Anneke’s, as the whole party moved on; “and I regret that Satanstoe is so distant, as to prevent our oftener meeting of a morning. We have many noted horse-women, in Westchester, who would be proud of such an acquisition.”
“I know several ladies, on your side of Harlem river” Anneke answered, “and frequently ride in their company; but none so distant as any in your immediate neighbourhood. My father tells me, he used often to shoot over the fields of Satanstoe, when a youth; and still speaks of your birds with great affection.”
“I believe our fathers were once brother-sportsmen. Mr. Bulstrode has promised to come and imitate their good example. Now you have had time to reflect on the plays you have seen, do you still feel the same interest in such representations as at first?”
“I only wish there was not so much to condemn. I think Mr. Bulstrode might have reached eminence as a player, had not fortune put it, in one sense, beyond his reach, as an elder son, and a man of family.”
“Mr. Bulstrode, they tell me, is not only the heir of an old baronetcy, but of a large fortune?”
“Such are the facts, I believe. Do you not think it creditable to him, Mr. Littlepage, that one so situated, should come so far to serve his king and country, in a rude war like this of our colonies?”
I was obliged to assent, though I heartily wished that Anneke’s manner had been less animated and sincere, as she put the question. Still, I hardly knew what to think of her feelings towards that gentleman; for, otherwise, she always heard him named with a calmness and self-possession that I had observed was not shared by all her young companions, when there was occasion to allude to the gay and insinuating soldier. I need scarcely say, it was no disadvantage to Mr. Bulstrode to be the heir of a baronetcy, in an English colony. Somehow or other, we are a little apt to magnify such accidental superiority, at a distance from home; and I have heard Englishmen, themselves, acknowledge that a baronet was a greater man, in New York, than a duke was in London. These were things, that passed through my mind, as I rode along at Anneke’s side; though I had the discretion not to give utterance of my thoughts.
“Herman Mordaunt rode in advance, with Jason; and he led the party, by pretty bridle-paths, along the heights for nearly two miles, occasionally opening a gate, without dismounting, until he reached a point that overlooked Lilacsbush, which was soon seen, distant from us less than half a mile.
“Here we are, on my own domain,” he said, as he pulled up to let us join him; “that last gate separating me from my nearest neighbour south. These hills are of no great use, except as early pastures, though they afford many beautiful views.”
“I
