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GEE DATAUIE
The Giwnggler of the Chesapeatie,
[Entered according to Act of Congress in the Clerk’s Office of the
ane
A STORY OF THE COAST AND SEA.
BY J. Wl. INGRAHAM.*
CHAPTER I.
GLOUCESTER INLET.
Tr the reader will turn to the. map of Virginia and
glance along the indented delineation of the Chesa-
peake shore, he will detect. a small inlet penetrating
into the coast of Gloucester about a league north of
York River. It is here the first scene of our story
opens.
This inlet is irregular in shape and has a number of
jagged points running into it, with small, deep coves
between, which, with a rocky islet here and there
covered with moss and a few wild trees, give the place
2 romantic aspect. ‘The entrance.to the inlet from the
bay is not direct, but first it flows into a basin three
and a quarter miles across, which basin finds an open-
ing into Chesapeake Bay through a narrow and some-
what intricate channel, and better known to the fisher-
men aud bum-boat skippers than to the regular coast-
ers, Which seldom found their way in these out of the
way waters, save when driven from their moorings in
York River by a southeast gale, or sought its shelter
from a gale on the bay.
' shores of this inlet were chiefly in a state of | . . :
The . y | scended to near the horizon that its beams invited their
nature, unless a fisher’s cabin perched here and there
upon its rocky headlands might serve to redeem it
from its character. Farms, or cultivation beyond a
mere patch of garden abont the huts, there was none.
* The well known author of “‘ The Dancing Feather.”
BRAND SLEDGER BLESSING THE CHILDREN.
Sometimes the dark woods would approach close to
the beach and cast the shadows of their gnarled trunks
and limbs in the clear, still wave beneath; and some-
times a rocky barrier of gray granite would overhang
the coves that scalloped the border of the inner hay.
There were, however, two remarkable objects that
gave character to the scenery of this land-locked inlet,
and relieved the otherwise solitary features of the
place. One of these was a windmill, constructed of
stone, that stood upon a naked rock where the winds
could reach it unobstructed ; ‘and the other was a ruin
which was something between a fort and a light-house.
It was situated upon a bluff headland where the inlet
opened into a lesser bay, and commanded not only the
waters of this bay but the sparkling Chesapeake five
miles off, and the towers of York four miles to the
south were visible from it. By the side of the mill
was a square stone dwelling, the abode of the miller;
its roof steep and its roof-tree high, on each end of
which was a weather-cock, and upon the top of the
mill was a third in the shape of a fish. There was
also a roof, thatched and patched with tiles peering
above the wall of the ruin, which, from the smoke
wreath curling skyward from it, was the home of some
occupant; but as there was no light kept in ‘the
ruinous tower which had once been a light-house, it
could not have been the watcher of the beacon. The
windmill and ruin were on the same ridge and not
three hundred yards apart, so that the voice of a per-
son at the door of the one could be heard at the other.
Our story opens towards the decline of a day in
the month of September, and so many years ago that
the gray-haired man who may read these lines was then
a lad. The sky wore that roseate and purple mingled
hue that it puts on before sunset in the beginning of
autumn. A soft haze filled the air, and a calm sum-
mery silence, broken only by the hum of insects or the
tinkling ripple of the small waves, prevailed. The
sun was so tempered by the low position it had de-
enjoyment rather than repelled, as they had done at
noon by their heat, those who sat in them.
Many skitfs, shallops, bum-boats and fishing-smacks
were scattered about on the surface of the inlet, either
at anchor near the hut of their owner, or becalmed far |
[See page 323.]
off unable to reach the land, or floating and fishing
with the idle ebb of the tide. None of these crafts
were more than five to seven tons large, and the latter
were the bum-boats, a species of bay-vessel used. to
convey corn, flour, fruit, vegetables and even stock,
from the farms along the water side of Gloucester
county to York and Norfolk southward, and to Balti-
more and up the Potomac northwardly. The inlet was
the favorite rendezvous of these vessels during the
summer when they were little employed. Here they
refitted, were repaired, and put in order for the lively
autumnal season when the teeming harvests would
crowd once more their broad decks and shallow holds
with freights.
One of these bum-boats was gayer than its fellows,
having a bright scarlet pennon flying at its single mast,
and snow white canvass, and a green and white hull,
as if the owner was gifted with more taste than the
skippers of the surrounding craft exhibited. This little
vessel was slowly drawing nearer that part of the shore
where the windmill and ruin stood, availing itself of
every cat’s-paw of wind to run in nigher. It contained
but two persons, a man and a negro slave ina red shirt
and white trowsers. The former was young and well
made, with a bright hazel’ eye, flowing brown hair in-
clined to curl, and florid checks, with fine teeth and
red lips. He was not above three-and-twenty. His
sun-brown hands and the developed muscular outline
of the young sailor, showed that he was nothing more
than his coarse attire and present employment speci-
fied, a hard-toiling craftsman of the bay, who lived by
his manly and honest labor. He wore a straw tar-
paulin, narrow of brim, and a gray linen jacket and
duck trowsers, with a blue shirt, the collar loosely tied
together by a plaid bandanna handkerchief. He was
smoking a cigar of yood tobacco with a careless air,
his form lounging in the stern sheets with his left hand
on the tiller, and one foot hanging over the quarter-rail
almost touching the water. He had a frank, bold air
which would have inspired a maiden with trusting con-
fidence in his power to protect, and an enemy with
respect.
He seemed to be listlessly gazing upon the prospect
about him, in the additional beauty which the golden
skies and empurpled air lent to it. Astern was the
