Hugh Walpole - "Jeremy"

Alfred de Musset - "Child of a Century, v2"

W.W. Jacobs - "Many Cargoes"

John Lothrop Motley - "History of the United Netherlands, 1585"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: The Rangers

D >> D. P. Thompson >> The Rangers



This eBook was produced by David Garcia, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks,
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.





THE RANGERS

OR

THE TORY'S DAUGHTER

A TALE

ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE

REVOLUTIONARY HISTORY OF VERMONT

AND THE

NORTHERN CAMPAIGN OF 1777

BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS"

TWO VOLUMES IN ONE

TENTH EDITION






VOLUME I.






On commencing his former work, illustrative of the revolutionary
history of Vermont,--THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS,--it was the design of
the author to have embraced the battle of Bennington, and other events
of historic interest which occurred in the older and more southerly
parts of the state; but finding, as he proceeded, that the unity and
interest of his effort would be endangered by embracing so much
ground, a part of the original design was relinquished, or rather its
execution was deferred for a new and separate work, wherein better
justice could be done to the rich and unappropriated materials of
which his researches had put him in possession. That work, after an
interval of ten years, and the writing and publishing of several
intermediate ones, is now presented to the public, and with the single
remark, that if it is made to possess less interest, as a mere tale,
than its predecessor, the excuse must be found in the author's greater
anxiety to give a true historic version of the interesting and
important events he has undertaken to illustrate.




THE RANGERS;

OR,

THE TORY'S DAUGHTER

* * * * *


CHAPTER I.

"Sing on! sing on! my mountain home,
The paths where erst I used to roam,
The thundering torrent lost in foam.
The snow-hill side all bathed in light,--
All, all are bursting on my sight!"



Towards night, on the twelfth of March, 1775, a richly-equipped double
sleigh, filled with a goodly company of well-dressed persons of the
different sexes, was seen descending from the eastern side of the
Green Mountains, along what may now be considered the principal
thoroughfare leading from the upper navigable portions of the Hudson
to those of the Connecticut River. The progress of the travellers was
not only slow, but extremely toilsome, as was plainly evinced by the
appearance of the reeking and jaded horses, as they labored and
floundered along the sloppy and slumping snow paths of the winter
road, which was obviously now fast resolving itself into the element
of which it was composed. Up to the previous evening, the dreary reign
of winter had continued wholly uninterrupted by the advent of his more
gentle successor in the changing rounds of the seasons; and the snowy
waste which enveloped the earth would, that morning, have apparently
withstood the rains and suns of months before yielding entirely to
their influences. But during the night there had occurred one of those
great and sudden transitions from cold to heat, which can only be
experienced in northern climes, and which can be accounted for only on
the supposition, that the earth, at stated intervals, rapidly gives
out large quantities of its internal heats, or that the air becomes
suddenly rarefied by some essential change or modification in the
state of the electric fluid. The morning had been cloudless; and the
rising sun, with rays no longer dimly struggling through the dense,
obstructing medium of the dark months gone by, but, with the restored
beams of his natural brightness, fell upon the smoking earth with the
genial warmth of summer. A new atmosphere, indeed, seemed to have been
suddenly created, so warm and bland was the whole air; while,
occasionally, a breeze came over the face of the traveller, which
seemed like the breath of a heated oven. As the day advanced, the sky
gradually became overcast--a strong south wind sprung up, before whose
warm puffs the drifted snow-banks seemed literally to be cut down,
like grass before the scythe of the mower; and, at length, from the
thickening mass of cloud above, the rain began to descend in torrents
to the mutely recipient earth. All this, for a while, however,
produced no very visible effects on the general face of nature; for
the melting snow was many hours in becoming saturated with its own and
water from above. Nor had our travellers, for the greater part of the
day, been much incommoded by the rain, or the thaw, that was in
silent, but rapid progress around and beneath them; as their vehicle
was a covered one, and as the hard-trodden paths of the road were the
last to be affected. But, during the last hour, a great change in the
face of the landscape had become apparent; and the evidence of what
had been going on unseen, through the day, was now growing every
moment more and more palpable. The snow along the bottom of every
valley was marked by a long, dark streak, indicating the presence of
the fast-collecting waters beneath. The stifled sounds of rushing
streams were heard issuing from the hidden beds of every natural rill;
while the larger brooks were beginning to burst through their wintry
coverings, and throw up and push on before them the rending ice and
snow that obstructed their courses to the rivers below, to which they
were hurrying with increasing speed, and with seemingly growing
impatience at every obstacle they met in their way. The road had also
become so soft, that the horses sunk nearly to the flank at almost
every step, and the plunging sleigh drove heavily along the plashy
path. The whole mass of the now saturated and dissolving snow, indeed,
though lying, that morning, more than three feet deep on a level,
seemed to quiver and move, as if on the point of flowing away in a
body to the nearest channels.

The company we have introduced consisted of four gentlemen and two
ladies, all belonging, very evidently, to the most wealthy, and, up to
that time, the most honored and influential class of society. But
though all seemed to be of the same caste, yet their natural
characters, as any physiognomist, at a glance, would have discovered,
were, for so small a party, unusually diversified. Of the two men
occupying the front seat, both under the age of thirty, the one
sitting on the right and acting as driver was tall, showily dressed,
and of a haughty, aristocratic air; while his sharp features, which
set out in the shape of a half-moon, the convex outline being
preserved by a retreating forehead, an aquiline nose, and a chin
sloping inward, combined to give him a cold, repulsive countenance,
fraught with expressions denoting selfishness and insincerity. The
other occupant of the same seat was, on the contrary, a young man of
an unassuming demeanor, shapely features, and a mild, pleasing
countenance. The remaining two gentlemen of the party were much older,
but scarcely less dissimilar in their appearance than the two just
described. One of them was a gaunt, harsh-featured man, of the middle
ago, with an air of corresponding arrogance and assumption. The other,
who was still more elderly, was a thick-set and rather portly
personage, of that quiet, reserved, and somewhat haughty demeanor,
which usually belongs to men of much self-esteem, and of an
unyielding, opinionated disposition. The ladies were both young, and
in the full bloom of maidenly beauty. But their native characters,
like those of their male companions, seemed to be very strongly
contrasted. The one seated on the left was fair, extremely fair,
indeed; and her golden locks, clustering in rich profusion around her
snowy neck and temples, gave peculiar effect to the picture-like
beauty of her face. But her beauty consisted of pretty features, and
her countenance spoke rather of the affections than of the mind, being
of that tender, pleading cast, which is better calculated to call
forth sympathy than command respect, and which, showed her to be one
of those confiding, dependent persons, whose destinies are in me hands
of those whom they consider their friends, rather than in their own
keeping. The other maiden, with an equally fine form and no less
beautiful features, was still of an entirely different appearance.
She, indeed, was, to the one first described what the rose, with its
hardy stem, is to the lily leaning on the surrounding herbage for its
support; and though less delicately fair in mere complexion, she was
yet more commandingly beautiful; for there was an expression in the
bright, discriminating glances of her deep hazel eyes, and in the
commingling smile that played over the whole of her serene and
benignant countenance, that told of intellects that could act
independently, as well as of a heart that glowed with the kindly
affections.

"Father," said the last described female, addressing the eldest
gentleman, for the purpose, apparently, of giving a new turn to the
conversation, which had now, for some time, been lagging,--"father, I
think you promised us, on starting from Bennington this morning, not
only a fair day, but a safe arrival at Westminster Court-House, by
sunset, did you not?"

"Why, yes, perhaps I did," replied the person addressed; "for I know I
calculated that we should get through by daylight."

"Well, my weatherwise father, to say nothing about this storm, instead
of the promised sunshine, does the progress, made and now making,
augur very brightly for the other part of the result?"

"I fear me not, Sabrey," answered the old gentleman, "though, with the
road as good as when we started, we should have easily accomplished
it. But who would have dreamed of a thaw so sudden and powerful as
this? Why, the very road before us looks like a running river! Indeed,
I think we shall do well to reach Westminster at all to-night. What
say you, Mr. Peters,--will the horses hold out to do it?" he added,
addressing the young man of the repulsive look, who had charge of the
team, us before mentioned.

"They _must_ do it, at all events, Squire Haviland," replied Peters.
"Sheriff Patterson, here," he continued, glancing at the hard-featured
man before described, "has particular reasons for being on the ground
to-night. I must also be there, and likewise friend Jones, if we can
persuade him to forego his intended stop at Brattleborough; for, being
of a military turn, we will give him the command of the forces, if he
will go on immediately with us."

"Thank you, Mr. Peters," replied Jones, smiling. "I do not covet the
honor of a command, though I should be ready to go on and assist, if I
really believed that military forces would be needed."

"Military forces needed for what?" asked Haviland, in some surprise.

"Why, have you not heard, Squire Haviland," said the sheriff, "that
threats have been thrown out, that our coming court would not be
suffered to sit?"

"Yes, something of the kind, perhaps," replied Haviland,
contemptuously; "but I looked upon them only as the silly vaporings of
a few disaffected creatures, who, having heard of the rebellious
movements in the Bay State, have thrown out these idle threats with
the hope of intimidating our authorities, and so prevent the holding
of a court, which they fear might bring too many of them to justice."

"So I viewed the case for a while," rejoined Patterson; "but a few
days ago, I received secret information, on which I could rely, that
these disorganizing rascals were actually combining, in considerable
numbers, with the intention of attempting to drive us from the
Court-House."

"Impossible! impossible! Patterson," said the squire; "they will never
be so audacious as to attempt to assail the king's court."

"They are making a movement for that purpose, nevertheless," returned
the former; "for, in addition to the information I have named, I
received a letter from Judge Chandler, just as I was leaving my house
in Brattleborough, yesterday morning, in which the judge stated, that
about forty men, from Rockingham, came to him in a body, at his house
in Chester, and warned him against holding the court; and had the
boldness to tell him, that blood would be shed, if it was attempted,
especially if the sheriff appeared with an armed posse."

"Indeed! why, I am astonished at their insolence!" exclaimed the
squire. "But what did the judge tell them?"

"Why the judge, you know, has an oily way of getting along with ugly
customers," replied the sheriff, with a significant wink; "so he
thanked them all kindly for calling on him, and gravely told them he
agreed with them, that no court should be holden at this time. But, as
there was one case of murder to be tried, he supposed the court must
come together to dispose of that; after which they would immediately
adjourn. And promising them that he would give the sheriff directions
not to appear with any armed assistants, he dismissed them, and sat
down and wrote me an account of the affair, winding off with giving me
the directions he had promised, but adding in a postscript, that I was
such a contrary fellow, that he doubted whether I should obey his
directions; and he should not be surprised to see me there with a
hundred men, each with a gun or pistol under his great-coat. Ha ha!
The judge is a sly one."

"One word about that case of murder, to which you have alluded, Mr.
Patterson," interposed Jones, after the jeering laugh with which the
sheriff's account was received by Haviland and Peters, had subsided.
"I have heard several mysterious hints thrown out by our opponents
about it, which seemed to imply that the prosecution of the prisoner
was got up for private purposes; and I think I have heard the name of
Secretary Brush coupled with the affair. Now, who is the alleged
murderer? and where and when was the crime committed?"

"The fellow passes by the name of Herriot, though it is suspected that
this is not his true name," responded the sheriff. "The crime was
committed at Albany, several years ago, when he killed, or mortally
wounded, an intimate friend of Mr. Brush."

"Under what circumstances?"

"Why, from what I have gathered, I should think the story might be
something like this: that, some time previous to the murder, this
Herriot had come to Albany, got into company above his true place,
dashed away a while in high life, gambled deeply, and, losing all his
own money, and running up a large debt to this, and other friends of
Brush, gave them his obligations and absconded. But coming there
again, for some purpose, a year or two after, with a large sum of
money, it was thought, which had been left or given him by a rich
Spaniard, whose life he had saved, or something of the kind, those
whom he owed beset him to pay them, or play again. But he refused to
play, pretending to have become pious, and also held back about paying
up his old debts. Their debts, however, they determined to have, and
went to him for that purpose; when an affray arose, and one of them
was killed by Herriot, who escaped, and fled, it seems, to this
section of the country, where he kept himself secluded in some hut in
the mountains, occasionally appear-ing abroad to preach religion and
rebellion to the people, by which means he was discovered, arrested,
and imprisoned in Westminster jail, where he awaits his trial at the
coming term of the court. And I presume he will be convicted and hung,
unless he makes friends with Brush to intercede for a pardon, which he
probably might do, if the fellow would disgorge enough of his hidden
treasures to pay his debts, and cease disaffecting the people, which
is treason and a hanging matter of itself, for which he, and fifty
others in this quarter, ought, in justice, to be dealt with without
benefit of the clergy.--What say you, Squire Haviland?"

"I agree with you fully," replied the squire. "But to return to Judge
Chandler's communication: what steps have you taken, if any, in order
to sustain the court in the threatened emergency?"

"Why, just the steps that Chandler knew I should take--sent off one
messenger to Brush, there on the ground at Westminster; another to
Rogers, of Kent; and yet another to a trusty friend in Guilford,
requesting each to be on, with a small band of resolute fellows; while
I whipped over to Newfane myself, fixed matters there, and came round
to Bennington to enlist David Redding, and a friend or two more; as I
did, after I arrived, last night, though I was compelled to leave them
my sleigh and horses to bring them over, which accounts for my begging
a passage with you. So, you see, that if this beggarly rabble offer to
make any disturbance, I shall be prepared to teach them the cost of
attempting to put down the king's court."

"Things are getting to a strange pass among these deluded people, that
is certain. I cannot, however, yet believe them so infatuated as to
take this step. But if they should, decided measures should be
taken--such, indeed, as shall silence this alarming spirit at once and
forever."

"I hope," observed Miss Haviland, who had been a silent but attentive
listener to the dialogue, "I hope no violence is really intended,
either on the part of the authorities or their opponents. But what do
these people complain of? There must be some cause, by which they, at
least, think themselves justified in the movement, surely. Do they
consider themselves aggrieved by any past decisions of the court?"

"O, there are grumblers enough, doubtless, in that respect," answered
the sheriff. "And among other things, they complain that their
property is taken and sold to pay their honest debts, when money is so
scarce, they say, that they cannot pay their creditors in
currency--just as if the court could make money for the idle knaves!
But that is mere pretence. They have other motives, and those, too, of
a more dangerous character to the public peace."

"And what may those motives be, if it be proper for me to inquire,
sir?" resumed the fair questioner.

"Why, in the first place," replied the sheriff, "they have an old and
inveterate grudge against New York, whose jurisdiction they are much
predisposed to resist. But to this they might have continued to demur
and submit, as they have done this side of the mountain, had New York
adopted the resolves of the Continental Congress of last December, and
come into the _American Association_, as it is called, which has no
less for its object, in reality, than the entire overthrow of all
royal authority in this country. But as our colony has nobly refused
to do this, they are now intent on committing a double treason--that
of making war on New York and the king too."

"Well, I should have little suspected," remarked Haviland, "that the
people of this section, who have shown themselves commendably
conservative, for the most part, had any intention of yielding to the
mob-laws of Ethan Allen, Warner, and others, who place the laws of New
York at defiance on the other side of the mountains; and much less
that they would heed the resolves of that self-constituted body of
knaves, ignoramuses, and rebels, calling themselves the Continental
Congress."

"Are you not too severe on that body of men, father?" said Miss
Haviland, lifting her expressive eye reprovingly to the face of the
speaker. "I have recently read over a list of the members of the
Congress; when I noticed among them the names of men, who, but a short
time since, stood very high, both for learning and worth, as I have
often heard you say yourself. Now, what has changed the characters of
these men so suddenly?"

"Why is it, Sabrey," said the old gentleman, with an air of petulance,
and without deigning any direct answer to the troublesome
question,--"why is it that you cannot take the opinion of your
friends, who know so much more than you do about these matters,
instead of raising, as I have noticed you have lately seemed inclined
to do, questions which seem to imply doubts of the correctness of the
measures of our gracious sovereign and his wise ministers?"

"Why, father," replied the other, with an ingenuous, but somewhat
abashed look, "if I have raised such questions, in relation to the
quarrel between the colonies and the mother country, I have gone on
the ground that the party which has the most right on its side would,
of course, have the best reasons for its measures; and as I have not
always been able to perceive good reasons for all the king's measures,
I had supposed you would be proud to give them."

The old gentleman, though evidently disturbed and angry at this reply,
did not seem inclined to push the debate any further with his
daughter. The other gentlemen, also, looked rather glum; and for many
moments not a word was spoken; when the other young lady, who had not
yet spoken, after glancing round on the gentlemen in seeming
expectation that those better reasons would be given, at length
ventured to remark,--

"Well, for my part, it is enough for me that my friends all belong to
the loyal party; and whatever might be said, I know I should always
feel that they were in the right, and their opposers in the wrong."

"And in that, Jane, I think you are wise," responded Jones, with an
approving smile. "The complaints of these disaffected people are based
on mistaken notions. They are too ill informed, I fear, to appreciate
the justice and necessity of the measures of our ministers, or to
understand very clearly what they are quarrelling about."

"Ah, that is it," warmly responded Haviland. "That is what I have
always said of them. They don't understand their own rights, or what
is for their own good, and should be treated accordingly. And I think
some of our leading men miss it in trying to reason with them. Reason
with them! Ridiculous! As if the common people could understand an
argument!"

"You are perfectly right, squire," responded Peters, with eager
promptness. "My own experience among the lower classes fully confirms
your opinion. My business, for several years past, has brought me
often in contact with them, in a certain quarter; and I have found
them not only ignorant of what properly belongs to their own rights
and privileges, but jealous and obstinate to a degree that is
excessively annoying."

"Friend Peters probably alludes to his experience in the great
republic of Guilford," said Jones, archly.

"There and elsewhere," rejoined the former; "though I have seen quite
enough of republicanism _there_, for my purpose. One year, the party
outvoting their opponents, and coming into power, upsets every thing
done by their predecessors. The next year the upsetters themselves get
upset; and all the measures they had established are reversed for
others no better; and so they go on from year to year, forever
quarrelling and forever changing."

"And yet, Peters," resumed Jones, banteringly, "I doubt whether _you_
have been much the loser by their quarrels."

"How so, Mr. Jones?" asked Haviland, who noticed that Peters had
answered only by a significant smile.

"Why, you know, Squire Haviland," replied Jones, "that I have been on
to attend several of the last sessions of your court, as the agent of
Secretary Fanning, [Footnote: Edward Fanning, secretary to Governor
Tryon, New York, before the revolution, obtained, by an act of
favoritism from his master, a grant of the township of Stratton,
which, in 1780, Fanning having been appointed a colonel of a regiment
of tories, was confiscated, and re-granted, by the legislature of
Vermont, to William Williams and others. Kent, afterwards Londonderry,
which had been granted to James Rogers, who has been introduced, and
who became a tory officer, was also, in like manner, confiscated and
re-granted.] to see to his landed interests in this quarter. Well,
friend Peters, here, who has gone considerably into land speculations
east of the mountains, you know, had brought, it seems, several suits
for the possession of lands, mostly in this same Guilford; and among
the rest, one for a right of land in possession of a sturdy young
log-roller, whom they called Harry Woodburn, who appeared in court in
his striped woollen frock, and insisted on defending his own case, as
he proceeded to do with a great deal of confidence. But when he came
to produce his deed for the land he contended was his own, it was
found, to his utter astonishment, to bear a later date than the one
produced by Peters. This seemed to settle the case against him. But he
appeared to have no notion of giving up so; and, by favor of court,
the further hearing of the case was deferred a day or two, to enable
him to procure the town records, which, he contended, would show the
priority of his deed. So he posted back to Guilford for the purpose;
but, on arriving there, found, to his dismay, that the records were
nowhere to be found. One of the belligerent parties of that town, it
seems, had broken into the clerk's office, stolen the records, and
buried them somewhere in the ground. The fellow, therefore, had to
return, and submit to a judgment against him. Still, however, he clung
to his case, and obtained a review of it, in expectation that the
records would be found before the next court. But the poor fellow
seemed doomed to disappointment. At the next court, no records were
forthcoming; and though he defended his case with great zeal, he was
thrown in his suit again; when he concluded, I suppose, to yield to
his fate without further ado."