  Mrs. Schuyler’s View of Continental Politics. Aunt was extremely sorry when the final determination was announced. She had now her good sister-in-law, Mrs. Wendell, with her, and seemed much to enjoy the society of that meek pious woman, who was as happy as any thing earthly could make her. As to public affairs their aspect did not please her; and therefore she endeavoured, as far as possible, to withdraw her attention from them. She was too well acquainted with the complicated nature of human affairs, to give a rash judgment on the political disputes then in agitation. She saw indeed reason for apprehension whatever way she turned. She knew the prejudices and self-opinion fast spreading through the country too well, to expect quiet submission, and could see nothing on all hands but a choice of evils. Were the provinces to set up for themselves, she thought they had not cohesion nor subordination enough among them to form, or to submit to any salutary plan of government. On the other hand she saw no good effect likely to result from a reluctant dependence on a distant people, whom they already began to hate, though hitherto nursed and protected by them. She clearly foresaw that no mode of taxation could be invented to which they would easily submit; and that the defence of the continent from enemies, and keeping the necessary military force to protect the weak and awe the turbulent, would be a perpetual drain of men and money to Great Britain, still increasing with the increased population. In short, she held all the specious plans that were talked over very cheap; while her affection for Britain made her shudder at the most distant idea of a separation; yet not as supposing such a step very hurtful to this country, which would be thus freed of a very costly incumbrance. But the dread of future anarchy, the horrors of civil war, and the dereliction of principle which generally results from tumultuary conflicts, were the spectres with which she was haunted. Having now once for all given (to the best of my recollection) a faithful sketch of aunt’s opinions on this intricate subject, I shall not recur to them, nor by any means attempt to enter into any detail of the dark days that were approaching. First, because I feel unspeakable pain in looking back upon occurrences that I know too well, though I was not there to witness: in which the friends of my early youth were greatly involved, and had much indeed to endure, on both sides. Next, because there is little satisfaction in narrating transactions where there is no room to praise either side. That waste of personal courage and British blood and treasure, which were squandered to no purpose on one side in that ill-conducted war, and the insolence and cruelty which tarnished the triumph of the other, form no pleasing subject of retrospection; while the unsuccessful and often unrewarded loyalty of the sufferers for government, cannot be recollected without the most wounding regret. The years of madame, after I parted with her, were involved in a cloud raised by the conflicts of contending arms, which I vainly endeavoured to penetrate. My account of her must therefore, in a great measure, terminate with this sad year. My father taking in spring decided measures for leaving America, entrusted his lands to the care of his friend John Munro, Esq. then residing near Clarendon, and chief magistrate of that newly peopled district; a very worthy friend and countryman of his own, who was then in high triumph on account of a fancied conquest over the supporters of the twenty mile line; and thought, when that point was fully established, there would be no further obstruction to their realizing their property to great advantage, or colonizing it from Scotland, if such should be their wish. Aunt leaned hard to the latter expedient, but my father could not think of leaving me behind to await the chance of his return; and I had been talked into a wish for revisiting the land of my nativity. I left my domestic favourites with great pain, but took care to introduce them to aunt, and implored her, with all the pathos I was mistress of, to take an interest in them when I was gone; which she very good naturedly promised to do. Another very kind thing she did. Once a year she spent a day or two at General Schuyler’s. I call him by his latter acquired title, to distinguish him from the number of his namesakes I have had occasion to mention. She now so timed her visit (though in dreadful weather) that I might accompany her, and take my last farewell of my young companions there: yet I could not bring myself to think it a final one. The terrible words no more, never passed my lips. I had too buoyant a spirit to encounter a voluntary heartache by looking on the dark side of any thing, and always figured myself returning, and joyfully received by the friends with whom I was parting. |
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