Samantha at Saratoga by Marietta Holley (online e book reader TXT) 📕

It wuz a lovely mornin’ when my companion and me sot out to visit Schuylerville to see the monument that is stood up there in honor of the Battle of Saratoga, one of 7 great decisive battles of the world.

Wall, the cars rolled on peacefully, though screechin’ occasionally, for, as the poet says, “It is their nater to,” and rolled us away from Saratoga. And at first there wuzn’t nothin’ particularly insperin’ in the looks of the landscape, or ruther woodscape. It wuz mostly woods and rather hombly woods too, kinder flat lookin’. But pretty soon the scenery became beautiful and impressive. The rollin’ hills rolled down and up in great billowy masses of green and pale blue, accordin’ as they wuz fur or near, and we went by shinin’ water, and a glowin’ landscape, and pretty houses, and fields of grain and corn, etc., etc. And anon we reached a place where “Victory Mills” wuz printed up high, in big letters. When Josiah see this, he sez, “Haint that neighborly and friendly in Victory to come over here and put up a mill? That shows, Samantha,” sez he, “that the old hardness of the Revolution is entirely done away with.”

He wuz jest full of Revolutionary thoughts that mornin’, Josiah Allen wuz. And so wuz I too, but my strength of mind is such, that I reined ’em in and didn’t let ’em run away with me. And I told him that it didn’t mean that. Sez I, “The Widder Albert wouldn’t come over here and go to millin’, she nor none of her family.”

“But,” sez he, “the name must mean sunthin’. Do you s’pose it is where folks get the victory over things? If it is, I’d give a dollar bill to get a grist ground out here, and,” sez he, in a sort of a coaxin’ tone, “le’s stop and get some victory, Samantha.”

And I told him, that I guessed when he got a victory over the world, the flesh, or the—David, he would have to work for it, he wouldn’t get it ground out for him. But anon, he cast his eyes on sunthin’ else and so forgot to muse on this any further. It wuz a fair seen.

Anon, a big manufactory, as big as the hull side of Jonesville almost, loomed up by the side of us. And anon, the fair, the beautiful country spread itself out before our vision. While fur, fur away the pale blue mountains peeked up over the green ones, to see if they too could see the monument riz up to our National Liberty. It belonged to them, jest as much as to the hill it wuz a standin’ on, it belongs to the hull liberty-lovin’ world.

Wall, the cars stopped in a pretty little village, a clean, pleasant little place as I ever see, or want to see. And Josiah and me wended our way up the broad roomy street, up to where the monument seemed to sort a beegon to us to come. And when we got up to it; we see it wuz a sight, a sight to behold.

The curius thing on’t wuz, it kep a growin’ bigger and bigger all the time we wuz approachin’ it, till, as we stood at its base, it seemed to tower up into the very skies.

There wuz some flights of stun steps a leadin’ up to some doors in the side on’t. And we went inside on’t after we had gin a good look at the outside. But it took us some time to get through gazin’ at the outside on’t.

Way up over our heads wuz some sort a recesses, some like the recess in my spare bed-room, only higher and narrower, and kinder nobler lookin’. And standin’ up in the first one, a lookin’ stiddy through storm and shine at the North star, stood General Gates, bigger than life considerable, but none too big; for his deeds and the deeds of all of our old 4 fathers stand out now and seem a good deal bigger than life. Yes, take ’em in all their consequences, a sight bigger.

Wall, there he stands, a leanin’ on his sword. He’ll be ready when the enemy comes, no danger but what he will.

On the east side, is General Schuyler a horsback, ready to dash forward against the foe, impetuous, ardent, gallant. But oh! the perils and dangers that obstruct his pathway; thick underbrush and high, tall trees stand up round him that he seemin’ly can’t get through.

But his gallant soldiers are a helpin’ him onward, they are a cuttin’ down the trees so’s he can get through ’em and dash at the enemy. You see as you look on him that he will get through it all. No envy, nor detraction, nor jealousy, no such low underbrush full of crawlin’ reptiles, nor no high solid trees, no danger of any sort can keep him back. His big brave, generous heart is sot on helpin’ his country, he’ll do it.

On the south side, is the saddest sight that a patriotic American can see. On a plain slab stun, lookin’ a good deal like a permanent grave-stun, sot up high there, for Americans to weep over forever, bitter tears of shames, is the name, “Arnold.”

He wuz a brave soldier; his name ort to be there; it is all right to have it there and jest where it is, on a gravestun. All through the centuries it will stand there, a name carved by the hand of cupidity, selfishness, and treachery.

On the west side, General Morgan is standin’ up with his hands over his eyes; lookin’ away into the sunset. He looked jest like that when he wuz a lookin’ after prowlin’ red skins and red coats; when the sun wuz under dark clouds, and the day wuz dark 100 years ago.

But now, all he has to do is to stand up there and look off into the glowin’ heavens, a watchin’ the golden light of the sun of Liberty a rollin’ on westward. He holds his hand over his eyes; its rays most blind him, he is most lost a thinkin’ how fur, how fur them rays are a spreadin’, and a glowin’,way, way off, Morgan is a lookin’ onto our future, and it dazzles him. Its rays stretch off into other lands; they strike dark places; they burn! they glow! they shine! they light up the world!

Hold up your head, brave old General, and your loyal steadfast eyes. You helped to strike that light. Its radience half-frights you. It is so heavenly bright, its rays, may well dazzle you. Brown old soldiers, I love to think of you always a standin’ up there, lifted high up by a grateful Nation, a lookin’ off over all the world, a lookin’ off towards the glowin’ west, toward our glorious future.

On the inside too, it wuz a noble seen. After you rose up the steps and went inside, you found yourself in a middlin’ big room all surrounded by figures in what they called Alto Relief, or sunthin’ to that effect. I don’t know what Alto they meant. I don’t know nobody by that name, nor I don’t know how they relieved him. But I s’pose Alto when he wuz there wuz relieved to think that the figures wuz all so noble and impressive. Mebby he had been afraid they wouldn’t suit him and the nation. But they did, they must have. He must have been hard to suit, Alto must, if he wuzn’t relieved, and pleased with these.

On one side wuz George the 3d of England, in his magnificent palace, all dressed up in velvet and lace, surrounded by his slick drestup nobles, and all of ’em a sittin’ there soft and warm, in the lap of Luxury, a makin’ laws to bind the strugglin’ colonies.

And right acrost from that, wuz a picture of them Colonists, cold and hungry, a havin’ a Rally for Freedom, and a settin’ up a Town meetin! right amongst the trees, and under-brush that hedged ’em all in and tripped ’em up at every step; and savages a hidin’ behind the trees, and fears of old England, and dread of a hazerdous unknown future, a hantin’ and cloudin’ every glimpse of sky that came down on ’em through the trees. But they looked earnest and good, them old 4 fathers did, and the Town meetin’ looked determined, and firm principled as ever a Town meetin’ looked on the face of the earth.

Then there wuz some of the women of the court, fine ladies, all silk, and ribbons, and embroideries, and paint, and powder, a leanin’ back in their cushioned arm-chairs, a wantin’ to have the colonies taxed still further so’s to have more money to buy lace with and artificial flowers. And right acrost from ’em wuz some of our old 4 mothers, in a rude, log hut, not strong enough to keep out the cold, or the Injuns.

One wuz a cardin’ wools, one of ’em wuz a spinnin’ ’em, a tryin’ to make clothes to cover the starved, half-naked old 4 fathers who wuz a tramplin’ round in the snow with bare feet and shiverin’ lims. And one of ’em had a gun in her hand. She had smuggled the children all in behind her and she wuz a lookin’ out for the foe. These wimmen hadn’t no ribbons on, no, fur from it.

And then there wuz General Schuyler a fellin’ trees to obstruct the march of the British army. And Miss Schuyler a settin’ fire to a field of wheat rather than have it help the enemy of her country. Brave old 4 mother, worthy pardner of a grand man, she wuz a takin’ her life in her hand and a destroyin’ her own property for the sake of the cause she loved. A emblem of the way men and women sot fire to their own hopes, their own happiness, and burnt ’em up on the altar of the land we love.

And there wuz some British wimmen a follerin’ their husbands through the perils of danger and death, likely old 4 mothers they wuz, and thought jest as much of their pardners as I do of my Josiah. I could see that plain. And could see it a shinin’ still plainer in another one of the pictures—Lady Aukland a goin’ over the Hudson in a little canoe with the waves a dashin’ up high round her, to get to the sick bed of her companion. The white flag of truce wuz a wavin’ over her head and in her heart wuz a shinin’ the clear white light of a woman’s deathless devotion. Oh! there wuz likely wimmen amongst the British, I haint a doubt of it, and men too.

And then we clim a long flight of stairs and we see some more pictures, all round that room. Alto relieved agin, or he must have been relieved, and happified to see ’em, they wuz so impressive. I myself had from 25 to 30 emotions a minute while I stood a lookin’ at em—big lofty emotions too.

There waz Jennie McCrea a bein’ dragged offen her horse, and killed by savages. A dreadful sight—a woman settin’ out light-hearted toward happiness and goin’ to meet a fearful doom. Dreadful sight that has come down through the centuries, and happens over and over agin amongst female wimmen. But here it wuz fearful