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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion, by 
+St. George Tucker
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion
+
+Author: St. George Tucker
+
+Release Date: April 3, 2010 [EBook #31866]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BACON'S REBELLION ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Curtis Weyant, Joseph R. Hauser and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
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+
+Hansford:
+
+A TALE OF BACON'S REBELLION.
+
+
+
+
+BY ST. GEORGE TUCKER.
+
+
+
+
+    Rebellion! foul dishonouring word—
+      Whose wrongful blight so oft has stained
+    The holiest cause that, tongue or sword
+      Of mortal ever lost or gained.
+    How many a spirit, born to bless,
+      Hath sank beneath that withering name;
+    Whom but a day's, an hour's success,
+      Had wafted to eternal fame!
+                                      MOORE.
+
+
+
+
+RICHMOND, VA.:
+PUBLISHED BY GEORGE M. WEST
+BOSTON: PHILLIPS, SAMPSON & CO.
+1857.
+
+
+
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857,
+BY GEORGE M. WEST,
+In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Virginia.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+It is the design of the author, in the following pages, to illustrate
+the period of our colonial history, to which the story relates, and to
+show that this early struggle for freedom was the morning harbinger of
+that blessed light, which has since shone more and more unto the perfect
+day.
+
+Most of the characters introduced have their existence in real
+history—Hansford lived, acted and died in the manner here narrated, and
+a heart as pure and true as Virginia Temple's mourned his early doom.
+
+In one of those quaint old tracts, which the indefatigable antiquary,
+Peter Force, has rescued from oblivion, it is stated that Thomas
+Hansford, although a son of Mars, did sometimes worship at the shrine of
+Venus. It was his unwillingness to separate forever from the object of
+his love that led to his arrest, while lurking near her residence in
+Gloucester. From the meagre materials furnished by history of the
+celebrated rebellion of Nathaniel Bacon the following story has been
+woven.
+
+It were an object to be desired, both to author and to reader, that the
+fate of Thomas Hansford had been different. This could not be but by a
+direct violation of history. Yet the lesson taught in this simple story,
+it is hoped, is not without its uses to humanity. Though vice may
+triumph for a season, and virtue fail to meet its appropriate reward,
+yet nothing can confer on the first, nor snatch from the last, that
+substantial happiness which is ever afforded to the mind conscious of
+rectitude. The self-conviction which stings the vicious mind would make
+a diadem a crown of thorns. The _mens sibi conscia recti_ can make a
+gallows as triumphant as a throne. Such is the moral which the author
+designs to convey. If a darker punishment awaits the guilty, or a purer
+reward is in reserve for the virtuous, we must look for them to that
+righteous Judge, whose hand wields at once the sceptre of mercy and the
+sword of justice.
+
+And now having prepared this brief preface, to stand like a portico
+before his simple edifice, the author would cordially and respectfully
+make his bow, and invite his guests to enter. If his little volume is
+read, he will be amply repaid; if approved, he will be richly rewarded.
+
+
+
+
+HANSFORD.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1.
+
+    “The rose of England bloomed on Gertrude's cheek;
+    What though these shades had seen her birth? Her sire
+    A Briton's independence taught to seek
+    Far western worlds.”
+                        _Gertrude of Wyoming._
+
+
+Among those who had been driven, by the disturbances in England, to seek
+a more quiet home in the wilds of Virginia, was a gentleman of the name
+of Temple. An Englishman by birth, he was an unwilling spectator of the
+revolution which erected the dynasty of Cromwell upon the ruins of the
+British monarchy. He had never been able to divest his mind of that
+loyal veneration in which Charles Stuart was held by so many of his
+subjects, whose better judgments, if consulted, would have prompted them
+to unite with the revolutionists. But it was a strong principle with
+that noble party, who have borne in history the distinguished name of
+Cavaliers, rarely to consult the dictates of reason in questions of
+ancient prejudice. They preferred rather to err blindly with the long
+line of their loyal forbears in submission to tyranny, than to subvert
+the ancient principles of government in the attainment of freedom. They
+saw no difference between the knife of the surgeon and the sword of the
+destroyer—between the wholesome medicine, administered to heal, and the
+deadly poison, given to destroy.
+
+Nor are these strong prejudices without their value in the
+administration of government, while they are absolutely essential to the
+guidance of a revolution. They retard and moderate those excesses which
+they cannot entirely control, and even though unable to avoid the
+_descensus Averni_, they render that easy descent less fatal and
+destructive. Nor is there anything in the history of revolutions more
+beautiful than this steady adherence to ancient principles—this
+faithful devotion to a fallen prince, when all others have forsaken him
+and fled. While man is capable of enjoying the blessings of freedom, the
+memory of Hampden will be cherished and revered; and yet there is
+something scarcely less attractive in the disinterested loyalty, the
+generous self-denial, of the devoted Hyde, who left the comforts of
+home, the pride of country and the allurements of fame, to join in the
+lonely wanderings of the banished Stuart.
+
+When at last the revolution was accomplished, and Charles and the hopes
+of the Stuarts seemed to sleep in the same bloody grave, Colonel Temple,
+unwilling longer to remain under the government of a usurper, left
+England for Virginia, to enjoy in the quiet retirement of this infant
+colony, the peace and tranquillity which was denied him at home. From
+this, the last resting place of the standard of loyalty, he watched the
+indications of returning peace, and with a proud and grateful heart he
+hailed the advent of the restoration. For many years an influential
+member of the House of Burgesses, he at last retired from the busy
+scenes of political life to his estate in Gloucester, which, with a
+touching veneration for the past, he called Windsor Hall. Here, happy in
+the retrospection of a well spent life, and cheered and animated by the
+affection of a devoted wife and lovely daughter, the old Loyalist looked
+forward with a tranquil heart to the change which his increasing years
+warned him could not be far distant.
+
+His wife, a notable dame of the olden time, who was selected, like the
+wife of the good vicar, for the qualities which wear best, was one of
+those thrifty, bountiful bodies, who care but little for the government
+under which they live, so long as their larders are well stored with
+provisions, and those around them are happy and contented. Possessed of
+a good mind, and of a kind heart, she devoted herself to the true
+objects of a woman's life, and reigned supreme at home. Even when her
+husband had been immersed in the cares and stirring events of the
+revolution, and she was forced to hear the many causes of complaint
+urged against the government and stoutly combatted by the Colonel, the
+good dame had felt far more interest in market money than in ship
+money—in the neatness of her own chamber, than in the purity of the
+Star Chamber—and, in short, forgot the great principles of political
+economy in her love for the more practical science of domestic economy.
+We have said that at home Mrs. Temple reigned supreme, and so indeed she
+did. Although the good Colonel held the reins, she showed him the way to
+go, and though he was the nominal ruler of his little household, she was
+the power behind the throne, which even the throne submissively
+acknowledged to be greater than itself.
+
+Yet, for all this, Mrs. Temple was an excellent woman, and devoted to
+her husband's interests. Perhaps it was but natural that, although with
+a willing heart, and without a murmur, she had accompanied him to
+Virginia, she should, with a laudable desire to impress him with her
+real worth, advert more frequently than was agreeable to the heavy
+sacrifice which she had made. Nay more, we have but little doubt that
+the bustle and self-annoyance, the flurry and bluster, which always
+attended her domestic preparations, were considered as a requisite
+condiment to give relish to her food. We are at least certain of this,
+that her frequent strictures on the dress, and criticisms on the manners
+of her husband, arose from her real pride, and from her desire that to
+the world he should appear the noble perfection which he was to her.
+This the good Colonel fully understood, and though sometimes chafed by
+her incessant taunts, he knew her real worth, and had long since learned
+to wear his fetters as an ornament.
+
+Since their arrival in Virginia, Heaven had blessed the happy pair with
+a lovely daughter—a bliss for which they long had hoped and prayed, but
+hoped and prayed in vain. If hope deferred, however, maketh the heart
+sick, it loses none of its freshness and delight when it is at last
+realized, and the fond hearts of her parents were overflowing with love
+for this their only child. At the time at which our story commences,
+Virginia Temple (she was called after the fair young colony which gave
+her birth) had just completed her nineteenth year. Reared for the most
+part in the retirement of the country, she was probably not possessed of
+those artificial manners, which disguise rather than adorn the gay
+butterflies that flutter in the fashionable world, and which passes for
+refinement; but such conventional proprieties no more resemble the
+innate refinement of soul which nature alone can impart, than the
+plastered rouge of an old faded dowager resembles the native rose which
+blushes on a healthful maiden's cheek. There was in lieu of all this, in
+the character of Virginia Temple, a freshness of feeling and artless
+frankness, and withal a refined delicacy of sentiment and expression,
+which made the fair young girl the pride and the ornament of the little
+circle in which she moved.
+
+Under the kind tuition of her father, who, in his retired life,
+delighted to train her mind in wholesome knowledge, she possessed a
+great advantage over the large majority of her sex, whose education, at
+that early period, was wofully deficient. Some there were indeed (and in
+this respect the world has not changed much in the last two centuries),
+who were tempted to sneer at accomplishments superior to their own, and
+to hint that a book-worm and a bluestocking would never make a useful
+wife. But such envious insinuations were overcome by the care of her
+judicious mother, who spared no pains to rear her as a useful as well as
+an accomplished woman. With such a fortunate education, Virginia grew up
+intelligent, useful and beloved; and her good old father used often to
+say, in his bland, gentle manner, that he knew not whether his little
+Jeanie was more attractive when, with her favorite authors, she stored
+her mind with refined and noble sentiments, or when, in her little check
+apron and plain gingham dress, she assisted her busy mother in the
+preparation of pickles and preserves.
+
+There was another source of happiness to the fair Virginia, in which she
+will be more apt to secure the sympathy of our gentler readers. Among
+the numerous suitors who sought her hand, was one who had early gained
+her heart, and with none of the cruel crosses, as yet, which the young
+and inexperienced think add piquancy to the bliss of love; with the full
+consent of her parents, she had candidly acknowledged her preference,
+and plighted her troth, with all the sincerity of her young heart, to
+the noble, the generous, the brave Thomas Hansford.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+    “Heaven forming each on other to depend,
+    A master, or a servant, or a friend,
+    Bids each on other for assistance call,
+    Till one man's weakness grows the strength of all.
+    Wants, frailties, passions, closer still ally
+    The common interest, or endear the tie.
+    To these we owe true friendship, love sincere,
+    Each homefelt joy that life inherits here.”
+                                            _Essay on Man._
+
+
+Begirt with love and blessed with contentment, the little family at
+Windsor Hall led a life of quiet, unobtrusive happiness. In truth, if
+there be a combination of circumstances peculiarly propitious to
+happiness, it will be found to cluster around one of those old colonial
+plantations, which formed each within itself a little independent
+barony. There first was the proprietor, the feudal lord, proud of his
+Anglo-Saxon blood, whose ambition was power and personal freedom, and
+whose highest idea of wealth was in the possession of the soil he
+cultivated. A proud feeling was it, truly, to claim a portion of God's
+earth as his own; to stand upon his own land, and looking around, see
+his broad acres bounded only by the blue horizon walls,[1] and feel in
+its full force the whole truth of the old law maxim, that he owned not
+only the surface of the soil, but even to the centre of the earth, and
+the zenith of the heavens.[2] There can be but little doubt that the
+feelings suggested by such reflections are in the highest degree
+favorable to the development of individual freedom, so peculiar to the
+Anglo-Saxon race, and so stoutly maintained, especially among an
+agricultural people. This respect for the ownership of land is
+illustrated by the earliest legislation, which held sacred the title to
+the soil even from the grasp of the law, and which often restrained the
+freeholder from alienating his land from the lordly but unborn
+aristocrat to whom it should descend.
+
+Next in the scale of importance in this little baronial society, were
+the indented servants, who, either for felony or treason, were sent over
+to the colony, and bound for a term of years to some one of the
+planters. In some cases, too, the poverty of the emigrant induced him to
+submit voluntarily to indentures with the captain of the ship which
+brought him to the colony, as some compensation for his passage. These
+servants, we learn, had certain privileges accorded to them, which were
+not enjoyed by the slave: the service of the former was only temporary,
+and after the expiration of their term they became free citizens of the
+colony. The female servants, too, were limited in their duties to such
+employments as are generally assigned to women, such as cooking, washing
+and housework; while it was not unusual to see the negro women, as even
+now, in many portions of the State, managing the plough, hoeing the
+maize, worming and stripping the tobacco, and harvesting the grain. The
+colonists had long remonstrated against the system of indented servants,
+and denounced the policy which thus foisted upon an infant colony the
+felons and the refuse population of the mother country. But, as was too
+often the case, their petitions and remonstrances were treated with
+neglect, or spurned with contempt. Besides being distasteful to them as
+freemen and Cavaliers, the indented servants had already evinced a
+restlessness under restraint, which made them dangerous members of the
+body politic. In 1662, a servile insurrection was secretly organized,
+which had well nigh proved fatal to the colony. The conspiracy was
+however betrayed by a certain John Berkenhead, one of the leaders in the
+movement, who was incited to the revelation by the hope of reward for
+his treachery; nor was the hope vain. Grateful for their deliverance,
+the Assembly voted this man his liberty, compensated his master for the
+loss of his services, and still further rewarded him by a bounty of five
+thousand pounds of tobacco. Of this reckless and abandoned wretch, we
+will have much to say hereafter.
+
+Another feature in this patriarchal system of government was the right
+of property in those inferior races of men, who from their nature are
+incapable of a high degree of liberty, and find their greatest
+development, and their truest happiness, in a condition of servitude.
+Liberty is at last a reward to be attained after a long struggle, and
+not the inherent right of every man. It is the sword which becomes a
+weapon of power and defence in the hands of the strong, brave, rational
+man, but a dangerous plaything when entrusted to the hands of madmen or
+children. And thus, by the mysterious government of Him, who rules the
+earth in righteousness, has it been wisely ordained, that they only who
+are worthy of freedom shall permanently possess it.
+
+The mutual relations established by the institution of domestic slavery
+were beneficial to both parties concerned. The Anglo-Saxon baron
+possessed power, which he has ever craved, and concentration and unity
+of will, which was essential to its maintenance. But that power was
+tempered, and that will controlled, by the powerful motives of policy,
+as well as by the dictates of justice and mercy. The African serf, on
+the other hand, was reduced to slavery, which, from his very nature, he
+is incapable of despising; and an implicit obedience to the will of his
+master was essential to the preservation of the relation. But he, too,
+derived benefits from the institution, which he has never acquired in
+any other condition; and trusting to the justice, and relying on the
+power of his master to provide for his wants, he lived a contented and
+therefore a happy life. Improvident himself by nature, his children were
+reared without his care, through the helpless period of infancy, while
+he was soothed and cheered in the hours of sickness, and protected and
+supported in his declining years. The history of the world does not
+furnish another example of a laboring class who could rely with
+confidence on such wages as competency and contentment.
+
+In a new colony, where there was but little attraction as yet, for
+tradesmen to emigrate, the home of the planter became still more
+isolated and independent. Every landholder had not only the slaves to
+cultivate his soil and to attend to his immediate wants, but he had also
+slaves educated and skilled in various trades. Thus, in this busy hive,
+the blaze of the forge was seen and the sound of the anvil was heard, in
+repairing the different tools and utensils of the farm; the shoemaker
+was found at his last, the spinster at her wheel, and the weaver at the
+loom. Nor has this system of independent reliance on a plantation for
+its own supplies been entirely superseded at the present day. There may
+still be found, in some sections of Virginia, plantations conducted on
+this principle, where the fleece is sheared, and the wool is carded,
+spun, woven and made into clothing by domestic labor, and where a few
+groceries and finer fabrics of clothing are all that are required, by
+the independent planter, from the busy world beyond his little domain.
+
+Numerous as were the duties and responsibilities that devolved upon the
+planter, he met them with cheerfulness and discharged them with
+faithfulness. The dignity of the master was blended with the kind
+attention of the friend on the one hand, and the obedience of the slave,
+with the fidelity of a grateful dependent, on the other. And thus was
+illustrated, in their true beauty, the blessings of that much abused
+but happy institution, which should ever remain, as it has ever been
+placed by the commentators of our law, next in position, as it is in
+interest, to the tender relation of parent and child.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] The immense grants taken up by early patentees, in this country,
+justifies this language, which might otherwise seem an extravagant
+hyperbole.
+
+[2] _Cujus est solum, ejus est usque ad cœlum._
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+    “An old worshipful gentleman, who had a great estate,
+    That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate,—
+      With an old lady whose anger one word assuages,—
+              Like an old courtier of the queen's,
+              And the queen's old courtier.”
+                                          _Old Ballad._
+
+
+A pleasant home was that old Windsor Hall, with its broad fields in
+cultivation around it, and the dense virgin forest screening it from
+distant view, with the carefully shaven sward on the velvet lawn in
+front, and the tall forest poplars standing like sentries in front of
+the house, and the venerable old oak tree at the side, with the rural
+wooden bench beneath it, where Hansford and Virginia used to sit and
+dream of future happiness, while the tame birds were singing sweetly to
+their mates in the green branches above them. And the house, too, with
+its quaint old frame, its narrow windows, and its substantial furniture,
+all brought from England and put down here in this new land for the
+comfort of the loyal old colonist. It had been there for years, that old
+house, and the moss and lichen had fastened on its shelving roof, and
+the luxuriant vine had been trained to clamber closely by its sides,
+exposing its red trumpet flowers to the sun; while the gay humming-bird,
+with her pretty dress of green and gold, sucked their honey with her
+long bill, and fluttered her little wings in the mild air so swiftly
+that you could scarcely see them. Then there was that rude but
+comfortable old porch, destined to as many uses as the chest of drawers
+in the tavern of the Deserted Village. Protected by its sheltering roof
+alike from rain and sunshine, it was often used, in the mild summer
+weather, as a favorite sitting-room, and sometimes, too, converted into
+a dining-room. There, too, might be seen, suspended from the nails and
+wooden pegs driven into the locust pillars, long specimen ears of corn,
+samples of grain, and different garden seeds tied up in little linen
+bags; and in the strange medley, Mrs. Temple had hung some long strings
+of red pepper-pods, sovereign specifics in cases of sore throat, but
+which seemed, among so many objects of greater interest, to blush with
+shame at their own inferiority. It was not yet the season when the broad
+tobacco leaf, brown with the fire of curing, was exhibited, and formed
+the chief staple of conversation, as well as of trade, with the old
+crony planters. The wonderful plant was just beginning to suffer from
+the encroaches of the worm, the only animal, save man, which is
+life-proof against the deadly nicotine of this cultivated poison.
+
+In this old porch the little family was gathered on a beautiful evening
+towards the close of June, in the year 1676. The sun, not yet set, was
+just sinking below the tall forest, and was dancing and flickering
+gleefully among the trees, as if rejoicing that he had nearly finished
+his long day's journey. Colonel Temple had just returned from his
+evening survey of his broad fields of tobacco, and was quietly smoking
+his pipe, for, like most of his fellow colonists, he was an inveterate
+consumer of this home production. His good wife was engaged in knitting,
+an occupation now almost fallen into disuse among ladies, but then a
+very essential part of the duties of a large plantation. Virginia, with
+her tambour frame before her, but which she had neglected in the reverie
+of her own thoughts, was caressing the noble St. Bernard dog which lay
+at her feet, who returned her caresses by a grateful whine, as he licked
+the small white hand of his mistress. This dog, a fine specimen of that
+noble breed, was a present from Hansford, and for that reason, as well
+as for his intrinsic merits, was highly prized, and became her constant
+companion in her woodland rambles in search of health and wild flowers.
+With all the vanity of a conscious favorite, Nestor regarded with well
+bred contempt the hounds that stalked in couples about the yard, in
+anxious readiness for the next chase.
+
+As the young girl was thus engaged, there was an air of sadness in her
+whole mien—such a stranger to her usually bright, happy face, that it
+did not escape her father's notice.
+
+“Why, Jeanie,” he said, in the tender manner which he always used
+towards her, “you are strangely silent this evening. Has anything gone
+wrong with my little daughter?”
+
+“No, father,” she replied, “at least nothing that I am conscious of. We
+cannot be always gay or sad at our pleasure, you know.”
+
+“Nay, but at least,” said the old gentleman, “Nestor has been
+disobedient, or old Giles is sick, or you have been working yourself
+into a sentimental sadness over Lady Willoughby's[3] troubles.”
+
+“No, dear father; though, in reality, that melancholy story might well
+move a stouter heart than mine.”
+
+“Well, confess then,” said her father, “that, like the young French
+gentleman in Prince Arthur's days, you are sad as night only for
+wantonness. But what say you, mother, has anything gone wrong in
+household affairs to cross Virginia?”
+
+“No, Mr. Temple,” said the old lady. “Certainly, if Virginia is cast
+down at the little she has to do, I don't know what ought to become of
+me. But that's a matter of little consequence. Old people have had their
+day, and needn't expect much sympathy.”
+
+“Indeed, dear mother,” said Virginia, “I do not complain of anything
+that I have to do. I know that you do not entrust as much to me as you
+ought, or as I wish. I assure you, that if anything has made me sad, it
+is not you, dear mother,” she added, as she tenderly kissed her mother.
+
+“Oh, I know that, my dear; but your father seems to delight in always
+charging me with whatever goes wrong. Goodness knows, I toil from Monday
+morning till Saturday night for you all, and this is all the thanks I
+get. And if I were to work my old fingers to the bone, it would be all
+the same. Well, it won't last always.”
+
+To this assault Colonel Temple knew the best plan was not to reply. He
+had learned from sad experience the truth of the old adages, that
+“breath makes fire hotter,” and that “the least said is soonest mended.”
+He only signified his consciousness of what had been said by a quiet
+shrug of the shoulders, and then resumed his conversation with Virginia.
+
+“Well then, my dear, I am at a loss to conjecture the cause of your
+sadness, and must throw myself upon your indulgence to tell me or not,
+as you will. I don't think you ever lost anything by confiding in your
+old father.”
+
+“I know I never did,” said Virginia, with a gentle sigh, “and it is for
+the very reason that you always make my foolish little sorrows your own,
+that I am unwilling to trouble you with them. But really, on the present
+occasion—I scarcely know what to tell you.”
+
+“Then why that big pearl in your eye?” returned her father. “Ah, you
+little rogue, I have found you out at last. Mother, I have guessed the
+riddle. Somebody has not been here as often lately as he should. Now
+confess, you silly girl, that I have guessed your secret.”
+
+The big tears that swam in his daughter's blue eyes, and then rolling
+down, dried themselves upon her cheek, told the truth too plainly to
+justify denial.
+
+“I really think Virginia has some reason to complain,” said her mother.
+“It is now nearly three weeks since Mr. Hansford was here. A young
+lawyer's business don't keep him so much employed as to prevent these
+little courteous attentions.”
+
+“We used to be more attentive in our day, didn't we, old lady?” said
+Colonel Temple, as he kissed his good wife's cheek.
+
+This little demonstration entirely wiped away the remembrance of her
+displeasure. She returned the salutation with an affectionate smile, as
+she replied,
+
+“Yes, indeed, Henry; if there was less sentiment, there was more real
+affection in those days. Love was more in the heart then, and less out
+of books, than now.”
+
+“Oh, but we were not without our little sentiments, too. Virginia, it
+would have done you good to have seen how gaily your mother danced round
+the May-pole, with her courtly train, as the fair queen of them all; and
+how I, all ruffs and velvet, at the head of the boys, and on bended
+knee, begged her majesty to accept the homage of our loyal hearts. Don't
+you remember, Bessy, the grand parliament, when we voted you eight
+subsidies, and four fifteenths to be paid in flowers and candy, for your
+grand coronation?”
+
+“Oh, yes!” said the old lady; “and then the coronation itself, with the
+throne made of the old master's desk, all nicely carpeted and decorated
+with flowers and evergreen; and poor Billy Newton, with his long, solemn
+face, a paste-board mitre, and his sister's night-gown for a pontifical
+robe, acting the Archbishop of Canterbury, and placing the crown upon my
+head!”
+
+“And the game of Barley-break in the evening,” said the Colonel, fairly
+carried away by the recollections of these old scenes, “when you and I,
+hand in hand, pretended only to catch the rest, and preferred to remain
+together thus, in what we called the hell, because we felt that it was a
+heaven to us.”[4]
+
+“Oh, fie, for shame!” said the old lady. “Ah, well, they don't have such
+times now-a-days.”
+
+“No, indeed,” said her husband; “old Noll came with his nasal twang and
+puritanical cant, and dethroned May-queens as well as royal kings, and
+his amusements were only varied by a change from a hypocritical sermon
+to a psalm-singing conventicle.”
+
+Thus the old folks chatted on merrily, telling old stories, which,
+although Virginia had heard them a hundred times and knew them all by
+heart, she loved to hear again. She had almost forgotten her own sadness
+in this occupation of her mind, when her father said—
+
+“But, Bessy, we had almost forgotten, in our recollections of the past,
+that our little Jeanie needs cheering up. You should remember, my
+daughter, that if there were any serious cause for Mr. Hansford's
+absence, he would have written to you. Some trivial circumstance, or
+some matter of business, has detained him from day to day. He will be
+here to-morrow, I have no doubt.”
+
+“I know I ought not to feel anxious,” said Virginia, her lip quivering
+with emotion; “he has so much to do, not only in his profession, but his
+poor old mother needs his presence a great deal now; she was far from
+well when he was last here.”
+
+“Well, I respect him for that,” said her mother. “It is too often the
+case with these young lovers, that when they think of getting married,
+and doing for themselves, the poor old mothers are laid on the shelf.”
+
+“And yet,” continued Virginia, “I have a kind of presentiment that all
+may not be right with him. I know it is foolish, but I can't—I can't
+help it?”
+
+“These presentiments, my child,” said her father, who was not without
+some of the superstition of the time, “although like dreams, often sent
+by the Almighty for wise purposes, are more often but the phantasies of
+the imagination. The mind, when unable to account for circumstances by
+reason, is apt to torment itself with its own fancy—and this is wrong,
+Jeanie.”
+
+“I know all this,” replied Virginia, “and yet have no power to prevent
+it. But,” she added, smiling through her tears, “I will endeavor to be
+more cheerful, and trust for better things.”
+
+“That's a good girl; I assure you I would rather hear you laugh once
+than to see you cry a hundred times,” said the old man, repeating a
+witticism that Virginia had heard ever since her childish trials and
+tears over broken dolls or tangled hair. The idea was so grotesque and
+absurd, that the sweet girl laughed until she cried again.
+
+“Besides,” added her father, “I heard yesterday that that pestilent
+fellow, Bacon, was in arms again, and it may be necessary for Berkeley
+to use some harsh means to punish his insolence. I would not be at all
+surprised if Hansford were engaged in this laudable enterprise.”
+
+“God, in his mercy, forbid,” said Virginia, in a faint voice.
+
+“And why, my daughter? Would you shrink from lending the services of him
+you love to your country, in her hour of need?”
+
+“But the danger, father!”
+
+“There can be but little danger in an insurrection like this. Strong
+measures will soon suppress it. Nay, the very show of organized and
+determined resistance will strike terror into the white hearts of these
+cowardly knaves. But if this were not so, the duty would be only
+stronger.”
+
+“Yes, Virginia,” said her mother. “No one knows more than I, how hard it
+is for a woman to sacrifice her selfish love to her country. But in my
+day we never hesitated, and I was happy in my tears, when I saw your
+father going forth to fight for his king and country. There was none of
+your 'God forbid' then, and you need not expect to be more free from
+trials than those who have gone before you.”
+
+There was no real unkindness meant in this speech of Mrs. Temple, but,
+as we have before reminded the reader, she took especial delight in
+magnifying her own joys and her own trials, and in making an invidious
+comparison of the present day with her earlier life, always to the
+prejudice of the former. Tenderly devoted to her daughter, and deeply
+sympathizing in her distress, she yet could not forego the pleasure of
+reverting to the time when she too had similar misfortunes, which she
+had borne with such exemplary fortitude. To be sure, this heroism
+existed only in the dear old lady's imagination, for no one gave way to
+trials with more violent grief than she. Virginia, though accustomed to
+her mother's peculiar temper, was yet affected by her language, and her
+tears flowed afresh.
+
+“Cheer up, my daughter,” said her father, “these tears are not only
+unworthy of you, but they are uncalled for now. This is at last but
+conjecture of mine, and I have no doubt that Hansford is well and as
+happy as he can be away from you. But you would have proved a sad
+heroine in the revolution. I don't think you would imitate successfully
+the bravery and patriotism of Lady Willoughby, whose memoirs you have
+been reading. Oh! that was a day for heroism, when mothers devoted their
+sons, and wives their husbands, to the cause of England and of loyalty,
+almost without a tear.”
+
+“I thank God,” said the weeping girl, “that he has not placed me in such
+trying scenes. With all my admiration for the courage of my ancestors, I
+have no ambition to suffer their dangers and distress.”
+
+“Well, my dear,” replied her father, “I trust you may never be called
+upon to do so. But if such should be your fate, I also trust that you
+have a strong heart, which would bear you through the trial. Come now,
+dry your tears, and let me hear you sing that old favorite of mine,
+written by poor Dick Lovelace. His Lucasta[5] must have been something
+of the same mind as my Virginia, if she reproved him for deserting her
+for honour.”
+
+“Oh, father, I feel the justice of your rebuke. I know that none but a
+brave woman deserves the love of a brave man. Will you forgive me?”
+
+“Forgive you, my daughter?—yes, if you have done anything to be
+forgiven. Your old father, though his head is turned gray, has still a
+warm place in his heart for all your distresses, my child; and that
+heart will be cold in death before it ceases to feel for you. But come,
+I must not lose my song, either.”
+
+And Virginia, her sweet voice rendered more touchingly beautiful by her
+emotion, sang the noble lines, which have almost atoned for all the
+vanity and foppishness of their unhappy author.
+
+    “Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,
+      If from the nunnery
+    Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind,
+      To war and arms I fly.
+
+    “True, a new mistress now I chase,
+      The first foe in the field,
+    And with a stronger faith embrace
+      The sword, the horse, the shield.
+
+    “Yet, this inconstancy is such
+      As you too shall adore;
+    I had not loved thee, dear, so much,
+      Loved I not honour more!”
+
+“Yes,” repeated the old patriot, as the last notes of the sweet voice
+died away; “yes, 'I had not loved thee, dear, so much, loved I not
+honour more!' This is the language of the truly noble lover. Without a
+heart which rises superior to itself, in its devotion to honour, it is
+impossible to love truly. Love is not a pretty child, to be crowned with
+roses, and adorned with trinkets, and wooed by soft music. To the truly
+brave, it is a god to be worshipped, a reward to be attained, and to be
+attained only in the path of honour!”
+
+“I think,” said Mrs. Temple, looking towards the wood, “that Virginia's
+song acted as an incantation. If I mistake not, Master Hansford is even
+now coming to explain his own negligence.”
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[3] I have taken these beautiful memoirs, now known to be the production
+of a modern pen, to be genuine. Their truthfulness to nature certainly
+will justify me in such a liberty.
+
+[4] The modern reader will need some explanation of this old game, whose
+terms seem, to the refined ears of the present day, a little profane.
+Barley-break resembled a game which I have seen played in my own time,
+called King Cantelope, but with some striking points of difference. In
+the old game, the play-ground was divided into three parts of equal
+size, and the middle of these sections was known by the name of hell.
+The boy and girl, whose position was in this place, were to attempt,
+with joined hands, to catch those who should try to pass from one
+section to the other. As each one was caught, he became a recruit for
+the couple in the middle, and the last couple who remained uncaught took
+the places of those in hell, and thus the game commenced again.
+
+[5] The lady to whom the song is addressed. It may be found in Percy's
+Reliques, or in almost any volume of old English poetry.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+    “Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dressed,
+    Fresh as a bridegroom.”
+                                          _Henry IV._
+
+
+In truth a young man, well mounted on a powerful bay, was seen
+approaching from the forest, that lay towards Jamestown. Virginia's
+cheek flushed with pleasure as she thought how soon all her fears would
+vanish away in the presence of her lover—and she laughed confusedly, as
+her father said,
+
+“Aye, come dry your tears, you little rogue—those eyes are not as
+bright as Hansford would like to see. Tears are very pretty in poetry
+and fancy, but when associated with swelled eyes and red noses, they
+lose something of their sentiment.”
+
+As the horseman came nearer, however, Virginia found to her great
+disappointment, that the form was not that of Hansford, and with a deep
+sigh she went into the house. The stranger, who now drew up to the door,
+proved to be a young man of about thirty years of age, tall and
+well-proportioned, his figure displaying at once symmetrical beauty and
+athletic strength. He was dressed after the fashion of the day, in a
+handsome velvet doublet, trussed with gay-colored points at the waist to
+the breeches, which reaching only to the knee, left the finely turned
+leg well displayed in the closely-fitting white silk stockings. Around
+his wrists and neck were revealed graceful ruffles of the finest
+cambric. The heavy boots, which were usually worn by cavaliers, were in
+this case supplied by shoes fastened with roses of ribands. A handsome
+sword, with ornamented hilt, and richly chased scabbard, was secured
+gracefully by his side in its fringed hanger. The felt hat, whose wide
+brim was looped up and secured by a gold button in front, completed the
+costume of the young stranger. The abominable fashion of periwigs, which
+maintained its reign over the realm of fashion for nearly a century, was
+just beginning to be introduced into the old country, and had not yet
+been received as orthodox in the colony. The rich chestnut hair of the
+stranger fell in abundance over his fine shoulders, and was parted
+carefully in the middle to display to its full advantage his broad
+intellectual forehead. But in compliance with custom, his hair was
+dressed with the fashionable love-locks, plaited and adorned with
+ribands, and falling foppishly over either ear.
+
+But dress, at last, like “rank, is but the guinea's stamp, the man's the
+gowd for a' that,” and in outward appearance at least, the stranger was
+of no alloyed metal. There was in his air that easy repose and
+self-possession which is always perceptible in those whose life has been
+passed in association with the refined and cultivated. But still there
+was something about his whole manner, which seemed to betray the fact,
+that this habitual self-possession, this frank and easy carriage was the
+result of a studied and constant control over his actions, rather than
+those of a free and ingenuous heart.
+
+This idea, however, did not strike the simple minded Virginia, as with
+natural, if not laudable curiosity, she surveyed the handsome young
+stranger through the window of the hall. The kind greeting of the
+hospitable old colonel having been given, the stranger dismounted, and
+the fine bay that he rode was committed to the protecting care of a
+grinning young African in attendance, who with his feet dangling from
+the stirrups trotted him off towards the stable.
+
+“I presume,” said the stranger, as they walked towards the house, “that
+from the directions I have received, I have the honor of seeing Colonel
+Temple. It is to the kindness of Sir William Berkeley that I owe the
+pleasure I enjoy in forming your acquaintance, sir,” and he handed a
+letter from his excellency, which the reader may take the liberty of
+reading with us, over Colonel Temple's shoulder.
+
+     “Bight trusty old friend,” ran the quaint and formal, yet familiar
+     note. “The bearer of these, Mr. Alfred Bernard, a youth of good and
+     right rare merit, but lately from England, and whom by the especial
+     confidence reposed in him from our noble kinsman Lord Berkeley, we
+     have made our private secretary, hath desired acquaintance with
+     some of the established gentlemen in the colony, the better for his
+     own improvement, to have their good society. And in all good faith,
+     there is none, to whom I can more readily commend him, than Colonel
+     Henry Temple, with the more perfect confidence in his desire to
+     oblige him, who is always as of yore, his right good friend,
+
+                                                “WILLIAM BERKELEY, Kn't.
+                  “_From our Palace at Jamestown, June 20, A. D. 1676._”
+
+“It required not this high commendation, my dear sir,” said old Temple,
+pressing his guest cordially by the hand, “to bid you welcome to my poor
+roof. But I now feel that to be a special honour, which would otherwise
+be but the natural duty of hospitality. Come, right welcome to Windsor
+Hall.”
+
+With these words they entered the house, where Alfred Bernard was
+presented to the ladies, and paid his devoirs with such knightly grace,
+that Virginia admired, and Mrs. Temple heartily approved, a manner and
+bearing, which, she whispered to her daughter, was worthy of the old
+cavalier days before the revolution. Supper was soon announced—not the
+awkward purgatorial meal, perilously poised in cups, and eaten with
+greasy fingers—so dire a foe to comfort and silk dresses—but the
+substantial supper of the olden time. It is far from our intention to
+enter into minute details, yet we cannot refrain from adverting to the
+fact that the good old cavalier grace was said by the Colonel, with as
+much solemnity as his cheerful face would wear—that grace which gave
+such umbrage to the Puritans with their sour visages and long prayers,
+and which consisted of those three expressive words, “God bless us.”
+
+“I have always thought,” said the Colonel, apologetically, “that this
+was enough—for where's the use of praying over our meals, until they
+get so cold and cheerless, that there is less to be thankful for.”
+
+“Especially,” said Bernard, chiming in at once with the old man's
+prejudices, “when this brief language contains all that is
+necessary—for even Omnipotence can but bless us—and we may easily
+leave the mode to Him.”
+
+“Well said, young man, and now come and partake of our homely fare,
+seasoned with a hearty welcome,” said the Colonel, cordially.
+
+Nor loth was Alfred Bernard to do full justice to the ample store before
+him. A ride of more than thirty miles had whetted an appetite naturally
+good, and the youth of “right rare merit,” did not impress his kind host
+very strongly with his conversational powers during his hearty meal.
+
+The repast being over, the little party retired to a room, which the old
+planter was pleased to call his study, but which savored far more of the
+presence of the sportive Diana, than of the reflecting muses. Over the
+door, as you entered the room, were fastened the large antlers of some
+noble deer, who had once bounded freely and gracefully through his
+native forest. Those broad branches are now, by a sad fatality, doomed
+to support the well oiled fowling-piece that laid their wearer low.
+Fishing tackle, shot-pouches, fox brushes, and other similar evidences
+and trophies of sport, testified to the Colonel's former delight in
+angling and the chase; but now alas! owing to the growing infirmities of
+age, though he still cherished his pack, and encouraged the sport, he
+could only start the youngsters in the neighborhood, and give them God
+speed! as with horses, hounds, and horns they merrily scampered away in
+the fresh, early morning. But with his love for these active, manly
+sports, Colonel Temple was devoted to reading such works as ran with his
+prejudices, and savored of the most rigid loyalty. His books, indeed,
+were few, for in that day it was no easy matter to procure books at all,
+especially for the colonists, who cut off from the great fountain of
+literature which was then just reviving from the severe drought of
+puritanism, were but sparingly supplied with the means of information.
+But a few months later than the time of which we write, Sir William
+Berkeley boasted that education was at a low ebb in Virginia, and
+thanked his God that so far there were neither free schools nor printing
+presses in the colony—the first instilling and the last disseminating
+rebellious sentiments among the people. Yet under all these
+disadvantages, Colonel Temple was well versed in the literature of the
+last two reigns, and with some of the more popular works of the present.
+Shakspeare was his constant companion, and the spring to which he often
+resorted to draw supplies of wisdom. But Milton was held in especial
+abhorrence—for the prose writings of the eloquent old republican
+condemned unheard the sublime strains of his divine poem.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+    “A man in all the world's new fashion planted,
+    That hath a mint of phrases in his brain;
+    One, whom the music of his own vain tongue,
+    Doth ravish like enchanting harmony;
+    A man of compliments.” _Love's Labor Lost._
+
+
+“Well, Mr. Bernard,” said the old Colonel as they entered the room,
+“take a seat, and let's have a social chat. We old planters don't get a
+chance often to hear the news from Jamestown, and I am afraid you will
+find me an inquisitive companion. But first join me in a pipe. There is
+no greater stimulant to conversation than the smoke of our Virginia
+weed.”
+
+“You must excuse me,” said Bernard, smiling, “I have not yet learned to
+smoke, although, if I remain in Virginia, I suppose I will have to
+contract a habit so general here.”
+
+“What, not smoke!” said the old man, in surprise. “Why tobacco is at
+once the calmer of sorrows, the assuager of excitement; the companion of
+solitude, the life of company; the quickener of fancy, the composer of
+thought.”
+
+“I had expected,” returned Bernard, laughing at his host's enthusiasm,
+“that so rigid a loyalist as yourself, would be a convert to King
+James's Counterblast. Have you never read that work of the royal
+pedant?”
+
+“Read it!” cried the Colonel, impetuously. “No! and what's more, with
+all my loyalty and respect for his memory, I would sooner light my pipe
+with a page of his Basilicon, than subscribe to the sentiments of his
+Counterblast.”
+
+“Oh, he had his supporters too,” replied Bernard, smiling. “You surely
+cannot have forgotten the song of Cucullus in the Lover's Melancholy;”
+and the young man repeated, with mock solemnity, the lines,
+
+    “They that will learn to drink a health in hell,
+    Must learn on earth to take tobacco well,
+    For in hell they drink no wine, nor ale, nor beer,
+    But fire and smoke and stench, as we do here.”
+
+“Well put, my young friend,” said Temple, laughing in his turn. “But you
+should remember that John Ford had to put such a sentiment in the mouth
+of a Bedlamite. Here, Sandy,” he added, kicking a little negro boy, who
+was nodding in the corner, dreaming, perhaps, of the pleasures of the
+next 'possum hunt, “Run to the kitchen, Sandy, and bring me a coal of
+fire.”
+
+“And, now, Mr. Bernard, what is the news political and social in the big
+world of Jamestown?”
+
+“Much to interest you in both respects. It is indeed a part of my duty
+in this visit, to request that you and the ladies will be present at a
+grand masque ball to be given on Lady Frances's birth-night.”
+
+“A masque in Virginia!” exclaimed the Colonel, “that will be a novelty
+indeed! But the Governor has not the opportunity or the means at hand to
+prepare it.”
+
+“Oh, yes!” replied Bernard, “we have all determined to do our best. The
+assembly will be in session, and the good burgesses will aid us, and at
+any rate if we cannot eclipse old England, we must try to make up in
+pleasure, what is wanting in brilliancy. I trust Miss Temple will aid us
+by her presence, which in itself will add both pleasure and brilliancy
+to the occasion.”
+
+Virginia blushed slightly at the compliment, and replied—
+
+“Indeed, Mr. Bernard, the presence which you seem to esteem so highly
+depends entirely on my father's permission—but I will unite with you in
+urging that as it is a novelty to me, he will not deny his assent. I
+should like of all things to go.”
+
+“Well, my daughter, as you please—but what says mother to the plan? You
+know she is not queen consort only, and she must be consulted.”
+
+“I am sure, Colonel Temple,” said the good lady, “that I do as much to
+please Virginia as you can. To be sure, a masque in Virginia can afford
+but little pleasure to me, who have seen them in all their glory in
+England, but I have no doubt it will be all well enough for the young
+people, and I am always ready to contribute to their amusement.”
+
+“I know that, my dear, and Jeanie can testify to it as well as I. But,
+Mr. Bernard, what is to be the subject of this masque, and who is the
+author, or are we to have a rehash of rare Ben Jonson's Golden Age?”
+
+“It is to be a kind of parody of that, or rather a burlesque;” replied
+Bernard, “and is designed to hail the advent of the Restoration, a theme
+worthy of the genius of a Shakspeare, though, unfortunately, it is now
+in far humbler hands.”
+
+“A noble subject, truly,” said the Colonel, “and from your deprecating
+air, I have no doubt that we are to be indebted to your pen for its
+production.”
+
+“Partly, sir,” returned Bernard, with an assumption of modesty. “It is
+the joint work of Mr. Hutchinson, the chaplain of his excellency, and
+myself.”
+
+“Oh! Mr. Bernard, are you a poet,” cried the old lady in admiration;
+“this is really an honour. Mr. Temple used to write verses when we were
+young, and although they were never printed, they were far prettier than
+a great deal of the lovesick nonsense that they make such a fuss about.
+I was always begging him to publish, but he never would push himself
+forward, like others with not half his merit.”
+
+“I do not pretend to any merit, my dear madam,” said Bernard, “but I
+trust that with my rigid loyalty, and parson Hutchinson's rigid
+episcopacy, the roundhead puritans will not meet with more favour than
+they deserve. Neither of us have been long enough in the colony to have
+learned from observation the taste of the Virginians, but there is
+abundant evidence on record that they were the last to desert the cause
+of loyalty, and to submit to the sway of the puritan Protector.”
+
+“Right, my friend, and she ever will be, or else old Henry Temple will
+seek out some desolate abode untainted with treason wherein to drag out
+the remainder of his days.”
+
+“Your loyalty was never more needed,” said Bernard; “for Virginia, I
+fear, will yet be the scene of a rebellion, which may be but the brief
+epitome of the revolution.”
+
+“Aye, you refer to this Baconian movement. I had heard that the
+demagogue was again in arms. But surely you cannot apprehend any danger
+from such a source.”
+
+“Well, I trust not; and yet the harmless worm, if left to grow, may
+acquire fangs. Bacon is eloquent and popular, and has already under his
+standard some of the very flower of the colony. He must be crushed and
+crushed at once; and yet I fear the worst from the clemency and delay of
+Sir William Berkeley.”
+
+“Tell me; what is his ground of quarrel?” asked Temple.
+
+“Why, simply that having taken up arms against the Indians without
+authority, and enraging them by his injustice and cruelty, the governor
+required him to disband the force he had raised. He peremptorily
+refused, and demanded a commission from the governor as general-in-chief
+of the forces of Virginia to prosecute this unholy war.”
+
+“Why unholy?” asked the Colonel. “Rebellious as was his conduct in
+refusing to lay down his arms at the command of the governor, yet I do
+not see that it should be deemed unholy to chastise the insolence of
+these savages.”
+
+“I will tell you, then,” replied Bernard. “His avowed design was to
+avenge the murder of a poor herdsman by a chief of the Doeg tribe.
+Instead of visiting his vengeance upon the guilty, he turned his whole
+force against the Susquehannahs, a friendly tribe of Indians, and chased
+them like sheep into one of their forts. Five of the Indians relying on
+the boasted chivalry of the whites, came out of the fort unarmed, to
+inquire the cause of this unprovoked attack. They were answered by a
+charge of musketry, and basely murdered in cold blood.”
+
+“Monstrous!” cried Temple, with horror. “Such infidelity will incense
+the whole Indian race against us and involve the country in another
+general war.”
+
+“Exactly so,” returned Bernard, “and such is the governor's opinion; but
+besides this, it is suspected, and with reason too, that this Indian war
+is merely a pretext on the part of Bacon and a few of his followers, to
+cover a deeper and more criminal design. The insolent demagogue prates
+openly about equal rights, freedom, oppression of the mother country,
+and such dangerous themes, and it is shrewdly thought that, in his wild
+dreams of liberty, he is taking Cromwell for his model. He has all of
+the villainy of the old puritan, and a good deal of his genius and
+ability. But I beg pardon, ladies, all this politics cannot be very
+palatable to a lady's taste. We will certainly expect you, Mrs. Temple,
+to be present at the masque; and if Miss Virginia would prefer not to
+play her part in the exhibition, she may still be there to cheer us with
+her smiles. I can speak for the taste of all gallant young Virginians,
+that they will readily pardon her for not concealing so fair a face
+beneath a mask.”
+
+“Ah, I can easily see that you are but lately from England,” said Mrs.
+Temple, delighted with the gallantry of the young man. “Your speech,
+fair sir, savours far more of the manners of the court than of these
+untutored forests. Alas! it reminds me of my own young days.”
+
+“Well, Mr. Bernard,” said the Colonel, interrupting his wife in a
+reminiscence, which bid fair to exhaust no brief time, “you will find
+that we have only transplanted old English manners to another soil.
+
+    “'Cœlum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt.'”
+
+“I am glad to see,” said Bernard, casting an admiring glance at
+Virginia, “that this new soil you speak of, Colonel Temple, is so
+favourably adapted to the growth of the fairest flowers.”
+
+“Oh, you must be jesting, Mr. Bernard,” said the old lady, “for although
+I am always begging Virginia to pay more attention to the garden, there
+are scarcely any flowers there worth speaking of, except a few roses
+that I planted with my own hands, and a bed of violets.”
+
+“You mistake me, my dear madam,” returned Bernard, still gazing on
+Virginia with an affectation of rapture, “the roses to which I refer
+bloom on fair young cheeks, and the violets shed their sweetness in the
+depths of those blue eyes.”
+
+“Oh, you are at your poetry, are you?” said the old lady.
+
+“Not if poetry extends her sway only over the realm of fiction,” said
+Bernard, laying his hand upon his heart.
+
+“Indeed, Mr. Bernard,” said Virginia, not displeased at flattery, which
+however gross it may appear to modern ears, was common with young
+cavaliers in former days, and relished by the fair damsels, “I have been
+taught that flowers flourish far better in the cultivated parterre, than
+in the wild woods. I doubt not that, like Orlando, you are but playing
+off upon a stranger the sentiments, which, in reality, you reserve for
+some faithful Rosalind whom you have left in England.”
+
+“You now surprise me, indeed,” returned Bernard, “for do you know that
+among all the ladies that grace English society, there are but few who
+ever heard of Rosalind or her Orlando, and know as little of the forest
+of Ardennes as of your own wild forests in Virginia.”
+
+“I have heard,” said the Colonel, “that old Will Shakspeare and his
+cotemporaries—peers he has none—have been thrown aside for more modern
+writers, and I fear that England has gained nothing by the exchange. Who
+is now your prince of song?”
+
+“There is a newly risen wit and poet, John Dryden by name, who seems to
+bear the palm undisputed. Waller is old now, and though he still writes,
+yet he has lost much of his popularity by his former defection from the
+cause of loyalty.”
+
+“Well, for my part, give me old wine, old friends and old poets,” said
+the Colonel. “I confess I like a bard to be consecrated by the united
+plaudits of two or three generations, before I can give him my ready
+admiration.”
+
+“I should think your acquaintance with Horace would have taught you the
+fallacy of that taste,” said Bernard. “Do you not remember how the old
+Roman laureate complains of the same prejudice existing in his own day,
+and argues that on such a principle merit could be accorded to no poet,
+for all must have their admirers among cotemporaries, else their works
+would pass into oblivion, before their worth were fairly tested?”
+
+“I cannot be far wrong in the present age at least,” said Temple, “from
+what I learn and from what I have myself seen, the literature of the
+present reign is disgraced by the most gross and libertine sentiments.
+As the water of a healthful stream if dammed up, stagnates and becomes
+the fruitful source of unwholesome malaria, and then, when released,
+rushes forward, spreading disease and death in its course, so the
+liberal feelings and manners of old England, restrained by the rigid
+puritanism of the Protectorate, at last burst forth in a torrent of
+disgusting and diseased libertinism.”
+
+Bernard had not an opportunity of replying to this elaborate simile of
+the good old Colonel, which, like Fadladeen, he had often used and still
+reserved for great occasions. Further conversation was here interrupted
+by a new arrival, which in this case, much to the satisfaction of the
+fair Virginia, proved to be the genuine Hansford.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+                        “Speak of Mortimer!
+    Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul
+    Want mercy, if I do not join with him.”
+                                          _Henry IV._
+
+
+Thomas Hansford, in appearance and demeanour, lost nothing in comparison
+with the accomplished Bernard. He certainly did not possess in so high a
+degree the easy assurance which characterized the young courtier, but
+his self-confidence, blended with a becoming modesty, and his open,
+ingenuous manners, fully compensated for the difference. There was that
+in his clear blue eye and pleasant smile which inspired confidence in
+all whom he approached. Modest and unobtrusive in his expressions of
+opinion, he was nevertheless firm in their maintenance when announced,
+and though deferential to superiors in age and position, and respectful
+to all, he was never servile or obsequious.
+
+The same kind of difference might be traced in the dress of the two
+young men, as in their manners. With none of the ostentatious display,
+which we have described as belonging to the costume of Bernard, the
+attire of Hansford was plain and neat. He was dressed in a grey doublet
+and breeches, trussed with black silk points. His long hose were of
+cotton, and his shoes were fastened, not with the gay colored ribbons
+before described, but with stout leather thongs, such as are still often
+used in the dress of a country gentleman. His beaver was looped with a
+plain black button, in front, displaying his fair hair, which was
+brushed plainly back from his forehead. He, too, wore a sword by his
+side, but it was fastened, not by handsome fringe and sash, but by a
+plain belt around his waist. It seemed as though it were worn more for
+use than ornament. We have been thus particular in describing the dress
+of these two young men, because, as we have hinted, the contrast
+indicated the difference in their characters—a difference which will,
+however, more strikingly appear in the subsequent pages of this
+narrative.
+
+“Well, my boy,” said old Temple, heartily, “I am glad to see you; you
+have been a stranger among us lately, but are none the less welcome on
+that account. Yet, faith, lad, there was no necessity for whetting our
+appetite for your company by such a long absence.”
+
+“I have been detained on some business of importance,” replied Hansford,
+with some constraint in his manner. “I am glad, however, my dear sir,
+that I have not forfeited my welcome by my delay, for no one, I assure
+you, has had more cause to regret my absence than myself.”
+
+“Better late than never, my boy,” said the Colonel. “Come, here is a new
+acquaintance of ours, to whom I wish to introduce you. Mr. Alfred
+Bernard, Mr. Hansford.”
+
+The young men saluted each other respectfully, and Hansford passed on to
+“metal more attractive.” Seated once more by the side of his faithful
+Virginia, he forgot the presence of all else, and the two lovers were
+soon deep in conversation, in a low voice.
+
+“I hope your absence was not caused by your mother's increased
+sickness,” said Virginia.
+
+“No, dearest, the old lady's health is far better than it has been for
+some time. But I have many things to tell you which will surprise, if
+they do not please you.”
+
+“Oh, you have no idea what a fright father gave me this evening,” said
+Virginia. “He told me that you had probably been engaged by the governor
+to aid in suppressing this rebellion. I fancied that there were already
+twenty bullets through your body, and made a little fool of myself
+generally. But if I had known that you were staying away from me so long
+without any good reason, I would not have been so silly, I assure you.”
+
+“Your care for me, dear girl, is very grateful to my feelings, and
+indeed it makes me very sad to think that I may yet be the cause of so
+much unhappiness to you.”
+
+“Oh, come now,” said the laughing girl, “don't be sentimental. You men
+think very little of ladies, if you suppose that we are incapable of
+listening to anything but flattery. Now, there's Mr. Bernard has been
+calling me flowers, and roses, and violets, ever since he came. For my
+part, I would rather be loved as a woman, than admired as all the
+flowers that grow in the world.”
+
+“Who is this Mr. Bernard?” asked Hansford.
+
+“He is the Governor's private secretary, and a very nice fellow he seems
+to be, too. He has more poetry at his finger's ends than you or I ever
+read, and he is very handsome, don't you think so?”
+
+“It is very well that I did not prolong my absence another day,” said
+Hansford, “or else I might have found my place in your heart supplied by
+this foppish young fribble.”[6]
+
+“Nay, now, if you are going to be jealous, I will get angry,” said
+Virginia, trying to pout her pretty lips. “But say what you will about
+him, he is very smart, and what's more, he writes poetry as well as
+quotes it.”
+
+“And has he told you of all his accomplishments so soon?” said Hansford,
+smiling; “for I hardly suppose you have seen a volume of his works,
+unless he brought it here with him. What else can he do? Perhaps he
+plays the flute, and dances divinely; and may-be, but for 'the vile
+guns, he might have been a soldier.' He looks a good deal like Hotspur's
+dandy to my eyes.”
+
+“Oh, don't be so ill-natured,” said Virginia, “He never would have told
+about his writing poetry, but father guessed it.”
+
+“Your father must have infinite penetration then,” said Hansford, “for I
+really do not think the young gentleman looks much as though he could
+tear himself from the mirror long enough to use his pen.”
+
+“Well, but he has written a masque, to be performed day-after-to-morrow
+night, at the palace, to celebrate Lady Frances' birth-day. Are you not
+going to the ball. Of course you'll be invited.”
+
+“No, dearest,” said Hansford, with a sigh. “Sir William Berkeley might
+give me a more unwelcome welcome than to a masque.”
+
+“What on earth do you mean?” said Virginia, turning pale with alarm.
+“You have not—”
+
+“Nay, you shall know all to-morrow,” replied Hansford.
+
+“Tom,” cried Colonel Temple, in his loud, merry voice, “stop cooing
+there, and tell me where you have been all this time. I'll swear, boy, I
+thought you had been helping Berkeley to put down that d—d renegade,
+Bacon.”
+
+“I am surprised,” said Hansford, with a forced, but uneasy smile, “that
+you should suppose the Governor had entrusted an affair of such moment
+to me.”
+
+“Zounds, lad,” said the Colonel, “I never dreamed that you were at the
+head of the expedition. Oh, the vanity of youth! No, I suppose my good
+friends, Colonel Ludwell and Major Beverley, are entrusted with the
+lead. But I thought a subordinate office—”
+
+“You are mistaken altogether, Colonel,” said Hansford. “The business
+which detained me from Windsor Hall had nothing to do with the
+suppression of this rebellion, and indeed I have not been in Jamestown
+for some weeks.”
+
+“Well, keep your own counsel then, Tom; but I trust it was at least
+business connected with your profession. I like to see a young lawyer
+give his undivided attention to business. But I doubt me, Tom, that you
+cheat the law out of some of the six hours that Lord Coke has allotted
+to her.”
+
+“I have, indeed, been attending to the preparation of a cause of some
+importance,” said Hansford.
+
+“Well, I'm glad of it, my boy. Who is your client? I hope he gives you a
+good retainer.”
+
+“My fee is chiefly contingent,” replied the young lawyer, sorely pressed
+by the questions of the curious old Colonel.
+
+“Why, you are very laconic,” returned Temple, trying to enlist him in
+conversation. “Come, tell me all about it. I used to be something of a
+lawyer myself in my youth, didn't I, Bessy?”
+
+“Yes, indeed,” said his wife, who was nearly dozing over her eternal
+knitting; “and if you had stuck to your profession, and not mingled in
+politics, my dear, we would have been much better off. You know I always
+told you so.”
+
+“I believe you did, Bessy,” said the Colonel. “But what's done can't be
+undone. Take example by me, Tom, d'ye hear, and never meddle in
+politics, my boy. But I believe I retain some cobwebs of law in my brain
+yet, and I might help you in your case. Who is your client?”
+
+“The Colony is one of the parties to the cause,” replied Hansford; “but
+the details cannot interest the ladies, you know; I will confer with you
+some other time on the subject, and will be very happy to have your
+advice.”
+
+All this time, Alfred Bernard had been silently watching the countenance
+of Hansford, and the latter had been unpleasantly conscious of the fact.
+As he made the last remark, he saw the keen eyes of Bernard resting upon
+him with such an expression of suspicion, that he could not avoid
+wincing. Bernard had no idea of losing the advantage which he thus
+possessed, and with wily caution he prepared a snare for his victim,
+more sure of success than an immediate attack would have been.
+
+“I think I have heard something of the case,” he said, fixing a
+penetrating glance on Hansford as he spoke, “and I agree with Mr.
+Hansford, that its details here would not be very interesting to the
+ladies. By the way, Colonel, your conjecture, that Mr. Hansford was
+employed in the suppression of the rebellion, reminds me of a
+circumstance that I had almost forgotten to mention. You have heard of
+that fellow Bacon's perjury—”
+
+“Perjury!” exclaimed the Colonel. “No! on the contrary I had been given
+to understand that, with all his faults, his personal honour was so far
+unstained, even with suspicion.”
+
+“Such was the general impression,” returned Bernard, “but it is now
+proven that he is as capable of the greatest perfidy as of the most
+daring treason.”
+
+“You probably refer, sir, to an affair,” said Hansford, “of which I have
+some knowledge, and on which I may throw some light which will be more
+favorable to Mr. Bacon.”
+
+“Your being able to conjecture so easily the fact to which I allude,”
+said Bernard, “is in itself an evidence that the general impression of
+his conduct is not so erroneous. I am happy,” he added, with a sneer,
+“that in this free country, a rebel even can meet with so disinterested
+a defender.”
+
+“If you refer, Mr. Bernard,” replied Hansford, disregarding the manner
+of Bernard, “to the alleged infraction of his parole, I can certainly
+explain it. I know that Colonel Temple does not, and I hope that you do
+not, wish deliberately to do any man an injustice, even if he be a foe
+or a rebel.”
+
+“That's true, my boy,” said the generous old Temple. “Give the devil his
+due, even he is not as black as he is painted. That's my maxim. How was
+it, Tom? And begin at the beginning, that's the only way to straighten a
+tangled skein.”
+
+“Then, as I understand the story,” said Hansford, in a slow, distinct,
+voice, “it is this:—After Mr. Bacon returned to Henrico from his
+expedition against the Indians, he was elected to the House of
+Burgesses. On attempting to go down the river to Jamestown, to take his
+seat, he was arrested by Captain Gardiner, on a charge of treason, and
+brought as a prisoner before Sir William Berkeley. The Governor,
+expressing himself satisfied with his disclaimer and open recantation of
+any treasonable design, released him from imprisonment on parole, and,
+as is reported, promised at the same time to grant him the commission he
+desired. Mr. Bacon, hearing of the sickness of his wife, returned to
+Henrico, and while there, secret warrants were issued to arrest him
+again. Upon a knowledge of this fact he refused to surrender himself
+under his parole.”
+
+“You have made a very clear case of it, if the facts be true,” said
+Bernard, in a taunting tone, “and seem to be well acquainted with the
+motives and movements of the traitor. I have no doubt there are many
+among his deluded followers who fail to appreciate the full force of a
+parole d'honneur.”
+
+“Sir!” said Hansford, his face flushing with indignation.
+
+“I only remarked,” said Bernard, in reply, “that a traitor to his
+country knows but little of the laws which govern honourable men. My
+remark only applied to traitors, and such I conceive the followers and
+supporters of Nathaniel Bacon to be.”
+
+Hansford only replied with a bow.
+
+“And so does Tom,” said Temple, “and so do we all, Mr. Bernard. But
+Hansford knew Bacon before this late movement of his, and he is very
+loth to hear his old friend charged with anything that he does not
+deserve. But see, my wife there is nodding over her knitting, and
+Jeanie's pretty blue eyes, I know, begin to itch. Our motto is, Mr.
+Bernard, to go to bed with the chickens and rise with the lark. But we
+have failed in the first to-night, and I reckon we will sleep a little
+later than lady lark to-morrow. So, to bed, to bed, my lord.”
+
+So saying, the hospitable old gentleman called a servant to show the
+gentlemen to their separate apartments.
+
+“You will be able to sleep in an old planter's cabin, Mr. Bernard,” he
+said, “where you will find all clean and comfortable, although perhaps a
+little rougher than you are accustomed to. Tom, boy, you know the ways
+of the house, and I needn't apologize to you. And so pleasant dreams and
+a good night to you both.”
+
+After the Colonel had gone, and before the servant had appeared,
+Hansford touched Bernard lightly on the shoulder. The latter turned
+around with some surprise.
+
+“You must be aware, Mr. Bernard,” said Hansford, “that your language
+to-night remained unresented only because of my respect for the company
+in which we were.”
+
+“I did not deem it of sufficient importance,” replied Bernard, assuming
+an indifferent tone, “to inquire whether your motives for silence were
+respect for the family or regard for yourself.”
+
+“You now at least know, sir. Let me ask you whether you made the remark
+to which I refer with a full knowledge of who I was, and what were my
+relations towards Mr. Bacon.”
+
+“I decline making any explanation of language which, both in manner and
+expression, was sufficiently intelligible.”
+
+“Then, sir,” said Hansford, resolutely, “there is but one reparation
+that you can make,” and he laid his hand significantly on his sword.
+
+“I understand you,” returned Bernard, “but do not hold myself
+responsible to a man whose position in society may be more worthy of my
+contempt than of my resentment.”
+
+“The company in which you found me, and the gentleman who introduced us,
+are sufficient guarantees of my position. If under these circumstances
+you refuse, you take advantage of a subterfuge alike unworthy of a
+gentleman or a brave man.”
+
+“Even this could scarcely avail you, since the family are not aware of
+the treason by which you have forfeited any claim to their protection.
+But I waive any such objection, sir, and accept your challenge.”
+
+“Being better acquainted with the place than yourself,” said Hansford,
+“I would suggest, sir, that there is a little grove in rear of the
+barn-yard, which is a fit spot for our purpose. There will there be no
+danger of interruption.”
+
+“As you please, sir,” replied Bernard. “To-morrow morning, then, at
+sunrise, with swords, and in the grove you speak of.”
+
+The servant entered the room at this moment, and the two young men
+parted for the night, having thus settled in a few moments the
+preliminaries of a mortal combat, with as much coolness as if it had
+been an agreement for a fox-hunt.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[6] A coxcomb, a popinjay.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+    “'We try this quarrel hilt to hilt.'
+    Then each at once his falchion drew,
+    Each on the ground his scabbard threw,
+    Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain,
+    As what they ne'er might see again;
+    Then foot, and point, and eye opposed,
+    In dubious strife they darkly closed.”
+                                    _Lady of the Lake._
+
+
+It is a happy thing for human nature that the cares, and vexations, and
+fears, of this weary life, are at least excluded from the magic world of
+sleep. Exhausted nature will seek a respite from her trials in
+forgetfulness, and steeped in the sacred stream of Lethe, like the young
+Achilles, she becomes invulnerable. It is but seldom that care dares
+intrude upon this quiet realm, and though it may be truly said that
+sleep “swift on her downy pinions flies from woe,” yet, when at last it
+does alight on the lid sullied by a tear, it rests as quietly as
+elsewhere. We have scarcely ever read of an instance where the last
+night of a convict was not passed in tranquil slumber, as though Sleep,
+the sweet sister of the dread Terror, soothed more tenderly, in this
+last hour, the victim of her gloomy brother's dart.
+
+Thomas Hansford, for with him our story remains, slept as calmly on this
+night as though a long life of happiness and fame stretched out before
+his eyes. 'Tis true, that ere he went to bed, as he unbelted his trusty
+sword, he looked at its well-tempered steel with a confident eye, and
+thought of the morrow. But so fully imbued were the youth of that iron
+age with the true spirit of chivalry, that life was but little regarded
+where honour was concerned, and the precarious tenure by which life was
+held, made it less prized by those who felt that they might be called on
+any day to surrender it. Hansford, therefore, slept soundly, and the
+first red streaks of the morning twilight were smiling through his
+window when he awoke. He rose, and dressing himself hastily, he repaired
+to the study, where he wrote a few hasty lines to his mother and to
+Virginia—the first to assure her of his filial love, and to pray her
+forgiveness for thus sacrificing life for honour; and the second
+breathing the warm ardour of his heart for her who, during his brief
+career, had lightened the cares and shared the joys which fortune had
+strewn in his path. As he folded these two letters and placed them in
+his pocket, he could not help drawing a deep sigh, to think of these two
+beings whose fate was so intimately entwined with his own, and whose
+thread of life would be weakened when his had been severed. Repelling
+such a thought as unworthy a brave man engaged in an honourable cause,
+he buckled on his sword and repaired with a firm step to the place of
+meeting. Alfred Bernard, true to his word, was there.
+
+And now the sun was just rising above the green forest, to the eastward.
+The hands, as by a striking metonymy those happy laborers were termed,
+who never knew the cares which environ the head, were just going out to
+their day's work. Men, women and children, some to plough the corn, and
+one a merry teamster, who, with his well attended team, was driving to
+the woods for fuel. And in the barn-yard were the sleek milch cows,
+smelling fresh with the dewy clover from the meadow, and their hides
+smoking with the early dew of morning; and the fowls, that strutted and
+clucked, and cackled, in the yard, all breakfasting on the scanty grains
+that had fallen from the horse-troughs—all save one inquisitive old
+rooster, who, flapping his wings and mounting the fence to crow, eyed
+askant the two young men, as though, a knight himself, he guessed their
+bloody intent. And the birds, too, those joyous, happy beings, who pass
+their life in singing, shook the fresh dew from their pretty wings,
+cleared their throats in the bracing air, and like the pious Persian,
+pouring forth their hymn of praise to the morning sun, fluttered away to
+search for their daily food. All was instinct with happiness and beauty.
+All were seeking to preserve the life which God had given but two, and
+they stood there, in the bright, dewy morning, to stain the fair robe of
+nature with blood. It is a sad thought, that of all the beings who
+rejoice in life, he alone, who bears the image of his Maker, should have
+wandered from His law.
+
+The men saluted one another coldly as Hansford approached, and Bernard
+said, with a firm voice, “You see, sir, I have kept my appointment. I
+believe nothing remains but to proceed.”
+
+“You must excuse me for again suggesting,” said Hansford, “that we wait
+a few moments, until these labourers are out of sight. We might be
+interrupted.”
+
+Bernard silently acquiesced, and the combatants stood at a short
+distance apart, each rapt in his own reflections. What those reflections
+were may be easily imagined. Both were young men of talent and promise.
+The one, the favourite of Sir William Berkeley, saw fame and distinction
+awaiting him in the colony. The other, the beloved of the people, second
+only to Bacon in their affections, and by that great leader esteemed as
+a friend and entrusted as a confidant, had scarce less hope in the
+future. The one a stranger, almost unknown in the colony, with little to
+care for in the world but self; the other the support of an aged mother,
+and the pride of a fair and trusting girl—the strong rock, on whose
+protection the grey lichen of age had rested, and around which the green
+tendrils of love entwined. Both men of erring hearts, who in a few
+moments might be summoned to appear at that dread bar, where all the
+secrets of their hearts are known, and all the actions of their lives
+are judged. The two combatants were nearly equally matched in the use
+of the sword. Bernard's superior skill in fence being fully compensated
+by the superior coolness of his adversary.
+
+Just as the last labourer had disappeared, both swords flashed in the
+morning sun. The combat was long, and the issue doubtful. Each seemed so
+conscious of the skill of the other, that both acted chiefly on the
+defensive. But the protracted length of the fight turned to the
+advantage of Hansford, who, from his early training and hardy exercise,
+was more accustomed to endure fatigue. Bernard became weary of a contest
+of such little interest, and at last, forgetting the science in which he
+was a complete adept, he made a desperate lunge at the breast of the
+young colonist. This thrust Hansford parried with such success, that he
+sent the sword of his adversary flying through the air. In attempting to
+regain possession of his sword, Bernard's foot slipped, and he fell
+prostrate to the ground.
+
+“Now yield you,” cried the victor, as he stood above the prostrate form
+of his antagonist, “and take back the foul stain which you have placed
+upon my name, or, by my troth, you had else better commend yourself to
+Heaven.”
+
+“I cannot choose but yield,” said Bernard, rising slowly from the
+ground, while his face was purple with rage and mortification. “But look
+ye, sir rebel, if but I had that good sword once more in my hand, I
+would prove that I can yet maintain my honour and my life against a
+traitor's arm. I take my life at your hands, but God do so to me, and
+more also, if the day do not come when you will wish that you had taken
+it while it was in your power. The life you give me shall be devoted to
+the one purpose of revenge.”
+
+“As you please,” said Hansford, eyeing him with an expression of bitter
+contempt. “Meantime, as you value your life, dedicated to so unworthy an
+object, let me hear no more of your insolence.”
+
+“Nay, by my soul,” cried Bernard, “I will not bear your taunts. Draw and
+defend yourself!” At the same time, with an active spring, he regained
+possession of his lost sword. But just as they were about to renew the
+attack, there appeared upon the scene of action a personage so strange
+in appearance, and so wild in dress, that Bernard dropped his weapon in
+surprise, and with a vacant stare gazed upon the singular apparition.
+
+The figure was that of a young girl, scarce twenty years of age, whose
+dark copper complexion, piercing black eyes, and high cheek bones, all
+proclaimed her to belong to that unhappy race which had so long held
+undisputed possession of this continent. Her dress was fantastic in the
+highest degree. Around her head was a plait of peake, made from those
+shells which were used by the Indians at once as their roanoke, or
+money, and as their most highly prized ornament of dress. A necklace and
+bracelets of the same adorned her neck and arms. A short smock, made of
+dressed deer-skin, which reached only to her knees, and was tightly
+fitted around the waist with a belt of wampum, but scantily concealed
+the swelling of her lovely bosom. Her legs, from the knee to the ancle,
+were bare, and her feet were covered with buckskin sandals, ornamented
+with beads, such as are yet seen in our western country, as the
+handiwork of the remnant of this unhappy race. Such a picturesque
+costume well became the graceful form that wore it. Her long, dark hair,
+which, amid all these decorations, was her loveliest ornament, fell
+unbound over her shoulders in rich profusion. As she approached, with
+light and elastic step, towards the combatants, Bernard, as we have
+said, dropped his sword in mute astonishment. It is true, that even in
+his short residence in Virginia, he had seen Indians at Jamestown, but
+they had come with friendly purpose to ask favors of the English. His
+impressions were therefore somewhat similar to those of a man who,
+having admired the glossy coat, and graceful, athletic form of a tiger
+in a menagerie, first sees that fierce animal bounding towards him from
+his Indian jungle. The effect upon him, however, was of course but
+momentary, and he again raised his sword to renew the attack. But his
+opponent, without any desire of engaging again in the contest, turned to
+the young girl and said, in a familiar voice, “Well, Mamalis, what
+brings you to the hall so early this morning?”
+
+“There is danger there,” replied the young girl, solemnly, and in purer
+English than Bernard was prepared to hear. “If you would help me, put up
+your long knife and follow me.”
+
+“What do you mean?” asked Hansford, alarmed by her manner and words.
+
+“Manteo and his braves come to take blood for blood,” returned the girl.
+“There is no time to lose.”
+
+“In God's name, Mr. Bernard,” said Hansford, quickly, “come along with
+us. This is no time for private quarrel. Our swords are destined for
+another use.”
+
+“Most willingly,” replied Bernard; “our enmity will scarcely cool by
+delay. And mark me, young man, Alfred Bernard will never rest until he
+avenges the triumph of your sword this morning, or the foul blot which
+you have placed upon his name. But let that pass now. Can this
+creature's statement be relied on?”
+
+“She is as true as Heaven,” whispered Hansford. “Come on, for we have
+indeed but little time to lose; at another time I will afford you ample
+opportunity to redeem your honour or to avenge yourself. You will not
+find my blood cooler by delay.” And so the three walked on rapidly
+towards the house, the two young men side by side, after having sworn
+eternal hostility to one another, but yet willing to forget their
+private feud in the more important duties before them.
+
+The reader of the history of this interesting period, will remember
+that there were, at this time, many causes of discontent prevailing
+among the Indians of Virginia. As has been before remarked, the murder
+of a herdsman, Robert Hen by name, and other incidents of a similar
+character, were so terribly avenged by the incensed colonists, not only
+upon the guilty, but upon friendly tribes, that the discontent of the
+Indians was wide spread and nearly universal. Nor did it cease until the
+final suppression of the Indian power by Nathaniel Bacon, at the battle
+of Bloody Run. This, however, was but the immediate cause of
+hostilities, for which there had already been, in the opinion of the
+Indians, sufficient provocation. Many obnoxious laws had been passed by
+the Assembly, in regard to the savages, that were so galling to their
+independence, that the seeds of discord and enmity were already widely
+sown. Among these were the laws prohibiting the trade in guns and
+ammunition with the Indians; requiring the warriors of the peaceful
+tribes to wear badges in order that they might be recognized;
+restricting them in their trade to particular marts; and, above all,
+providing that the _Werowance_, or chief of a tribe, should hold his
+position by the appointment of the Governor, and not by the choice of
+his braves. This last provision, which struck at the very independence
+of the tribes, was so offensive, that peaceable relations with the
+Indians could not long be maintained. Add to this the fact, which for
+its inhumanity is scarcely credible, that the English at Monados, now
+the island of New York, had, with a view of controlling the monopoly of
+the trade in furs and skins, inspired the Indians with a bitter
+hostility toward the Virginians, and it will easily be seen that the
+magazine of discontent needed but a spark to explode in open hostility.
+
+So much is necessary to be premised in order that the reader may
+understand the relations which existed, at this period, between the
+colonists and the Indians around them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+    “And in, the buskined hunters of the deer,
+    To Albert's home with shout and cymbal throng.”
+                                            _Campbell._
+
+
+The surprise and horror with which the intelligence of this impending
+attack was received by the family at Windsor Hall may be better imagined
+than described. Manteo, the leader of the party, a young Indian of the
+Pamunkey tribe, was well known to them all. With his sister, the young
+girl whom we have described, he lived quietly in his little wigwam, a
+few miles from the hall, and in his intercourse with the family had been
+friendly and even affectionate. But with all this, he was still ardently
+devoted to his race, and thirsting for fame; and stung by what he
+conceived the injustice of the whites, he had leagued himself in an
+enterprise, which, regardless of favour or friendship, was dictated by
+revenge.
+
+It was, alas! too late to hope for escape from the hall, or to send to
+the neighboring plantations for assistance; and, to add to their
+perplexity, the whole force of the farm, white servants and black, had
+gone to a distant field, where it was scarcely possible that they could
+hear of the attack until it was too late to contribute their aid in the
+defence. But with courage and resolution the gentlemen prepared to make
+such defence or resistance as was in their power, and, indeed, from the
+unsettled character of the times, a planter's house was no mean
+fortification against the attacks of the Indians. Early in the history
+of the colony, it was found necessary, for the general safety, to enact
+laws requiring each planter to provide suitable means of defence, in
+case of any sudden assault by the hostile tribes. Accordingly, the doors
+to these country mansions were made of the strongest material, and in
+some cases, and such was the case at Windsor Hall, were lined on the
+interior by a thick sheet of iron. The windows, too, or such as were low
+enough to be scaled from the ground, were protected by shutters of
+similar material. Every planter had several guns, and a sufficient store
+of ammunition for defence. Thus it will be seen that Windsor Hall,
+protected by three vigorous men, well armed and stout of heart, was no
+contemptible fortress against the rude attacks of a few savages, whose
+number in all probability would not exceed twenty. The greatest
+apprehension was from fire; but, strange to say, the savages but seldom
+resorted to this mode of vengeance, except when wrought up to the
+highest state of excitement.[7]
+
+“At any rate,” said the brave old Colonel, “we will remain where we are
+until threatened with fire, and then at least avenge our lives with the
+blood of these infamous wretches.”
+
+The doors and lower windows had been barricaded, and the three men,
+armed to the teeth, stood ready in the hall for the impending attack.
+Virginia and her mother were there, the former pale as ashes, but
+suppressing her emotions with a violent effort in order to contribute to
+her mother's comfort. In fact, the old lady, notwithstanding her boast
+of bravery on the evening before, stood in need of all the consolation
+that her daughter could impart. She vented her feelings in screams as
+loud as those of the Indians she feared, and refused to be comforted.
+Virginia, forgetful of her own equal danger, leant tenderly over her
+mother, who had thrown herself upon a sofa, and whispered those sweet
+words of consolation, which religion can alone suggest in the hour of
+our trial:
+
+“Mother, dear mother,” she said, “remember that although earthly
+strength should fail, we are yet in the hands of One who is mighty.”
+
+“Well, and what if we are,” cried her mother, whose faith was like that
+of the old lady, who, when the horses ran away with her carriage,
+trusted in Providence till the breeching broke. “Well, and what if we
+are, if in a few minutes our scalps may be taken by these horrible
+savages?”
+
+“But, dear mother, He has promised—”
+
+“Oh, I don't know whether he has or not—but as sure as fate there they
+come,” and the old lady relapsed into her hysterics.
+
+“Mother, mother, remember your duty as a Christian—remember in whom you
+have put your trust,” said Virginia, earnestly.
+
+“Oh, yes, that's the way. Of course I know nothing of my duty, and I
+don't pretend to be as good as others. I am nothing but a poor, weak old
+woman, and must be reminded of my duty by my daughter, although I was a
+Christian long before she was born. But, for my part, I think it's
+tempting Providence to bear such a judgment with so much indifference.”
+
+“But, Bessy,” interposed the Colonel, seeing Virginia was silent under
+this unusual kind of argument, “your agitation will only make the matter
+worse. If you give way thus, we cannot be as ready and cool in action as
+we should. Come now, dear Bessy, calm yourself.”
+
+“Oh, yes, it's well to say that, after bringing me all the way into this
+wild country, to be devoured by these wild Indians. Oh, that I should
+ever have consented to leave my quiet home in dear old England for this!
+And all because a protector reigned instead of a king. Protector,
+forsooth; I would rather have a hundred protectors at this moment than
+one king.”
+
+“Father,” said Virginia, in a tremulous voice, “had we not better retire
+to some other part of the house? We can only incommode you here.”
+
+“Right, my girl,” said her father. “Take your mother up stairs into your
+room, and try and compose her.”
+
+“Take me, indeed,” said his worthy spouse. “Colonel Temple, you speak as
+if I was a baby, to be carried about as you choose. I assure you, I will
+not budge a foot from you.”
+
+“Stay where you are then,” replied Temple, impatiently, “and for God's
+sake be calm. Ha! now my boys—here they come!” and a wild yell, which
+seemed to crack the very welkin, announced the appearance of the enemy.
+
+“I think we had all better go to the upper windows,” said Hansford,
+calmly. “There is nothing to be done by being shut up in this dark hall;
+while there, protected from their arrows, we may do some damage to the
+enemy. If we remain, our only chance is to make a desperate sally, in
+which we would be almost certainly destroyed.”
+
+“Mr. Hansford,” said Virginia, “give me a gun—there is one left—and
+you shall see that a young girl, in an hour of peril like this, knows
+how to aid brave men in her own defence.”
+
+Hansford bent an admiring glance upon the heroic girl, as he placed the
+weapon in her hands, while her father said, with rapture, “God bless
+you, my daughter. If your arm were strong as your heart is brave, you
+had been a hero. I retract what I said on yesterday,” he added in a
+whisper, with a sad smile, “for you have this day proved yourself worthy
+to be a brave man's wife.”
+
+The suggestion of Hansford was readily agreed upon, and the little party
+were soon at their posts, shielded by the windows from the attack of the
+Indians, and yet in a position from which they could annoy the enemy
+considerably by their own fire. From his shelter there, Bernard, to whom
+the sight was entirely new, could see rushing towards the hall, a party
+of about twenty savages, painted in the horrible manner which they adopt
+to inspire terror in a foe, and attired in that strange wild costume,
+which is now familiar to every school-boy. Their leader, a tall,
+athletic young Indian, surpassed them all in the hideousness of his
+appearance. His closely shaven hair was adorned with a tall eagle's
+feather, and pendant from his ears were the rattles of the rattlesnake.
+The only garment which concealed his nakedness was a short smock, or
+apron, reaching from his waist nearly to his knees, and made of dressed
+deer skin, adorned with beads and shells. Around his neck and wrists
+were strings of peake and roanoke. His face was painted in the most
+horrible manner, with a ground of deep red, formed from the dye of the
+pocone root, and variegated with streaks of blue, yellow and green.
+Around his eyes were large circles of green paint. But to make his
+appearance still more hideous, feathers and hair were stuck all over his
+body, upon the fresh paint, which made the warrior look far more like
+some wild beast of the forest than a human being.
+
+Brandishing a tomahawk in one hand, and holding a carbine in the other,
+Manteo, thus disguised, led on his braves with loud yells towards the
+mansion of Colonel Temple. How different from the respectful demeanour,
+and more modest attire, in which he was accustomed to appear before the
+family of Windsor Hall.
+
+To the great comfort of the inmates, his carbine was the only one in the
+party, thanks to the wise precaution of the Assembly, in restricting the
+sale of such deadly weapons to the Indians. His followers, arrayed in
+like horrible costume with himself, followed on with their tomahawks and
+bows; their arrows were secured in a quiver slung over the shoulder,
+which was formed of the skins of foxes and raccoons, rendered more
+terrible by the head of the animal being left unsevered from the skin.
+To the loud shrieks and yells of their voices, was added the unearthly
+sound of their drums and rattles—the whole together forming a
+discordant medley, which, as brave old John Smith has well and quaintly
+observed, “would rather affright than delight any man.”
+
+All this the besieged inmates of the hall saw with mingled feelings of
+astonishment and dread, awaiting with intense anxiety the result.
+
+“Now be perfectly quiet,” said Hansford, in a low tone, for, by tacit
+consent, he was looked upon as the leader of the defence. “The house
+being closed, they may conclude that the family are absent, and so,
+after their first burst of vengeance, retire. Their bark is always worse
+than their bite.”
+
+Such indeed seemed likely to be the case, for the Indians, arrived at
+the porch, looked around with some surprise at the barred doors and
+windows, and began to confer together. Whatever might have been the
+event of their conference, their actions, however, were materially
+affected by an incident which, though intended for the best, was well
+nigh resulting in destruction to the whole family.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[7] This fact, which I find mentioned by several historians, is
+explained by Kercheval, in his history of the Valley of Virginia, by the
+supposition that the Indians for a long time entertained the hope of
+reconquering the country, and saved property from destruction which
+might be of use to them in the future. See page 90 of Valley of Va.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+    “Like gun when aimed at duck or plover,
+    Kicks back and knocks the shooter over.”
+
+
+There was at Windsor Hall, an old family servant, known alike to the
+negroes and the “white folks,” by the familiar appellation of Uncle
+Giles. He was one of those old-fashioned negroes, who having borne the
+heat and burden of the day, are turned out to live in comparative
+freedom, and supplied with everything that can make their declining
+years comfortable and happy. Uncle Giles, according to his own account,
+was sixty-four last Whitsuntide, and was consequently born in Africa. It
+is a singular fact connected with this race, that whenever consulted
+about their age, they invariably date the anniversary of their birth at
+Christmas, Easter or Whitsuntide, the triennial holydays to which they
+are entitled. Whether this arises from the fact that a life which is
+devoted to the service of others should commence with a holyday, or
+whether these three are the only epochs known to the negro, is a
+question of some interest, but of little importance to our narrative. So
+it was, that old uncle Giles, in his own expressive phrase was, “after
+wiking all his born days, done turn out to graze hisself to def.” The
+only business of the old man was to keep himself comfortable in winter
+by the kitchen fire, and in summer to smoke his old corn-cob pipe on the
+three legged bench that stood at the kitchen door. Added to this, was
+the self-assumed duty of “strapping” the young darkies, and lecturing
+the old ones on the importance of working hard, and obeying “old massa,”
+cheerfully in everything. And so old uncle Giles, with white and black,
+with old and young, but especially with old uncle Giles himself, was a
+great character. Among other things that increased his inordinate
+self-esteem, was the possession of a rusty old blunderbuss, which, long
+since discarded as useless by his master, had fallen into his hands, and
+was regarded by him and his sable admirers as a pearl of great price.
+
+Now it so happened, that on the morning to which our story refers, uncle
+Giles was quietly smoking his pipe, and muttering solemnly to himself in
+that grumbling tone so peculiar to old negroes. When he learned,
+however, of the intended attack of the Indians, the old man, who well
+remembered the earlier skirmishes with the savages, took his old
+blunderbuss from its resting-place above the door of the kitchen, and
+prepared himself for action. The old gun, which owing to the growing
+infirmities of its possessor, had not been called into use for years,
+was now rusted from disuse and neglect; and a bold spider had even dared
+to seek, not the bubble reputation, but his more substantial gossamer
+palace, at the very mouth of the barrel. Notwithstanding all this, the
+gun had all the time remained loaded, for Giles was too rigid an
+economist to waste a charge without some good reason. Armed with this
+formidable weapon, Giles succeeded in climbing up the side of the low
+cabin kitchen, by the logs which protruded from either end of the wall.
+Arrived at the top and screening himself behind the rude log and mud
+chimney, he awaited with a patience and immobility which Wellington
+might have envied, the arrival of the foe. Here then he was quietly
+seated when the conference to which we have alluded took place between
+the Indian warriors.
+
+“Bird flown,” said Manteo, the leader of the party. “Nest empty.”
+
+Two or three of the braves stooped down and began to examine the soft
+sandy soil to discover if there were any tracks or signs of the family
+having left. Fortunately the search seemed satisfactory, for the
+foot-prints of Bernard's and Hansford's horses, as they were led from
+the house towards the stable on the previous evening, were still quite
+visible.
+
+This little circumstance seemed to determine the party, and they had
+turned away, probably to seek their vengeance elsewhere, or to return at
+a more propitious moment, when the discharge of a gun was heard, so
+loud, so crashing, and so alarming, that it seemed like the sudden
+rattling of thunder in a storm.
+
+Luckily, perhaps for all parties, while the shot fell through the poplar
+trees like the first big drops of rain in summer, the only damage which
+was done was in clipping off the feather which was worn by Manteo as a
+badge of his position. When we say this, however, we mean to refer only
+to the effect of the _charge_, not of the _discharge_ of the gun, for
+the breech rebounding violently against old Giles shoulder, the poor
+fellow lost his balance and came tumbling to the ground. The cabin was
+fortunately not more than ten feet high, and our African hero escaped
+into the kitchen with a few bruises—a happy compromise for the fate
+which would have inevitably been his had he remained in his former
+position. The smoke of his fusil mingling with the smoke from the
+chimney, averted suspicion, and with the simple-minded creatures who
+heard the report and witnessed its effects the whole matter remained a
+mystery.
+
+“Tunder,” said one, looking round in vain for the source from which an
+attack could be made.
+
+“Call dat tunder,” growled Manteo, pointing significantly to his moulted
+plume that lay on the ground.
+
+“Okees[8] mad. Shoot Pawcussacks[9] from osies,”[10] said one of the
+older and more experienced of the party, endeavouring to give some
+rational explanation of so inexplicable a mystery.
+
+A violent dispute here arose between the different warriors as to the
+cause of this sudden anger of the gods; some contending that it was
+because they were attacking a Netoppew or friend, and others with equal
+zeal contending that it was to reprove the slowness of their vengeance.
+
+From their position above, all these proceedings could be seen, and
+these contentions heard by the besieged party. The mixed language in
+which the men spoke, for they had even thus early appropriated many
+English words to supply the deficiencies in their own barren tongue, was
+explained by Mamalis, where it was unintelligible to the whites. This
+young girl felt a divided interest in the fate of the besieging and
+besieged parties; for all of her devotion to Virginia Temple could not
+make her entirely forget the fortunes of her brave brother.
+
+In a few moments, she saw that it was necessary to take some decisive
+step, for the faction which was of harsher mood, and urged immediate
+vengeance, was seen to prevail in the conference. The fatal word “fire”
+was several times heard, and Manteo was already starting towards the
+kitchen to procure the means of carrying into effect their deadly
+purpose.
+
+“I see nothing left, but to defend ourselves as we may,” said Hansford
+in a low voice, at the same time raising his musket, and advancing a
+step towards the window, with a view of throwing it open and commencing
+the attack.
+
+“Oh, don't shoot,” said Mamalis, imploringly, “I will go and save all.”
+
+“Do you think, my poor girl, that they will hearken to mercy at your
+intercession,” said Colonel Temple, shaking his head, sorrowfully.
+
+“No!” replied Mamalis, “the heart of a brave knows not mercy. If he gave
+his ear to the cry of mercy, he would be a squaw and not a brave. But
+fear not, I can yet save you,” she added confidently, “only do not be
+seen.”
+
+The men looked from one to the other to decide.
+
+“Trust her, father,” said Virginia, “if you are discovered blood must be
+shed. She says she can save us all. Trust her, Hansford. Trust her, Mr.
+Bernard.”
+
+“We could lose little by being betrayed at this stage of the game,” said
+Temple, “so go, my good girl, and Heaven will bless you!”
+
+Quick as thought the young Indian left the room, and descended the
+stairs. Drawing the bolt of the back door so softly, that she scarcely
+heard it move, herself, she went to the kitchen, where old Giles, a prey
+to a thousand fears, was seated trembling over the fire, his face of
+that peculiar ashy hue, which the negro complexion sometimes assumes as
+an humble apology for pallor. As she touched the old man on the
+shoulder, he groaned in despair and looked up, showing scarcely anything
+but the whites of his eyes, while his woolly head, thinned and white
+with age, resembled ashes sprinkled over a bed of extinguished charcoal.
+Seeing the face of an Indian, and too terrified to recognize Mamalis, he
+fell on his knees at her feet, and cried,
+
+“Oh, for de Lord sake, massa, pity de poor old nigger! My lod a messy,
+massa, I neber shoot anudder gun in all my born days.”
+
+“Hush,” said Mamalis, “and listen to me. I tell lie, you say it is
+truth; I say whites in Jamestown; you say so too—went yesterday.”
+
+“But bress your soul, missis,” said Giles, “sposen dey ax me ef I shot
+dat cussed gun, me say dat truf too?”
+
+“No, say it was thunder.”
+
+At this moment the tall dark form of Manteo entered the room. He started
+with surprise, as he saw his sister there, and in such company. His dark
+eye darted a fierce glance at Giles, who quailed beneath its glare.
+Then turning again to his sister, he said in the Indian tongue, which
+we freely translate:
+
+“Mamalis with the white man! where is he that I may drown my vengeance
+in his blood.”
+
+“He is gone; he is not within the power of Manteo. Manitou[11] has saved
+Manteo from the crime of killing his best friend.”
+
+“His people have killed my people for the offence of the few, I will
+kill him for the cruelty of many. For this is the calumet[12] broken.
+For this is the tree of peace[13] cut down by the tomahawk of war.”
+
+“Say not so,” replied Mamalis. “Temple is the netoppew[14] of Manteo. He
+is even now gone to the grand sachem of the long knives, to make Manteo
+the Werowance[15] of the Pamunkeys.”
+
+“Ha! is this true?” asked Manteo, anxiously.
+
+“Ask this old man,” returned Mamalis. “They all went to Jamestown
+yesterday, did they not?” she asked in English of Giles, who replied, in
+a trembling voice,
+
+“Yes, my massa, dey has all gone to Jimson on yestiddy.”
+
+“And I a Werowance!” said the young man proudly, in his own language.
+“Spirits of Powhatan and Opechancanough, the name of Manteo shall live
+immortally as yours. His glory shall be the song of our race, and the
+young men of his tribe shall emulate his deeds. His life shall be
+brilliant as the sun's bright course, and his spirit shall set in the
+spirit land, bright with unfading glory.”
+
+Then turning away with a lofty step, he proceeded to rejoin his
+companions.
+
+The stratagem was successful, and Manteo, the bravest, the noblest of
+the braves, succeeded after some time in persuading them to desist from
+their destructive designs. In a few moments, to the delight of the
+little besieged party, the Indians had left the house, and were soon
+buried in the deep forest.
+
+“Thanks, my brave, generous girl,” said Temple, as Mamalis, after the
+success of her adventure, entered the room. “To your presence of mind we
+owe our lives.”
+
+“But I told a lie,” said the girl, looking down; “I said you had gone to
+make Manteo the Werowance of the Pamunkeys.”
+
+“Well, my girl, he shall not want my aid in getting the office. So you,
+in effect, told the truth.”
+
+“No, no; I said you had gone. It was a lie.”
+
+“Ah, but, Mamalis,” said Virginia, in an encouraging voice, for she had
+often impressed upon the mind of the poor savage girl the nature of a
+lie, “when a falsehood is told for the preservation of life, the sin
+will be freely forgiven which has accomplished so much good.”
+
+“Ignatius Loyola could not have stated his favourite principle more
+clearly, Miss Temple,” said Bernard, with a satirical smile. “I see that
+the Reformation has not made so wide a difference in the two Churches,
+after all.”
+
+“No, Mr. Bernard,” said old Temple, somewhat offended at the young man's
+tone; “the stratagem of the soldier, and the intrigue of the treacherous
+Jesuit, are very different. The one is the means which brave men may use
+to accomplish noble ends; the other is the wily machinations of a
+perfidious man to attain his own base purposes. The one is the skilful
+fence and foil of the swordsman, the other the subtle and deceitful
+design of the sneaking snake.”
+
+“Still they both do what is plainly a deception, in order to accomplish
+an end which they each believe to be good. Once break down the barrier
+to the field of truth, and it is impossible any longer to distinguish
+between virtue and error.”
+
+“Well,” said Mrs. Temple, “I am the last to blame the bridge which
+carries me over, and I'll warrant there is not one here, man or woman,
+who isn't glad that our lives have been saved by Mamalis's
+falsehood—for I have not had such a fright in all my days.”
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[8] Gods.
+
+[9] Guns.
+
+[10] Heaven.
+
+[11] The good spirit of the Indians.
+
+[12] The pipe of peace.
+
+[13] When a peace was concluded a tree was planted, and the contracting
+parties declared that the peace should be as long lived as the tree.
+
+[14] The friend or benefactor.
+
+[15] The Werowance, or chief of a tribe, was appointed by the Governor,
+and this mode of appointment gave great dissatisfaction to the Indians.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+    “Religion, 'tis that doth distinguish us
+    From their bruit humour, well we may it know,
+    That can with understanding argue thus,
+    Our God is truth, but they cannot do so.”
+                                      _Smith's History._
+
+
+As may be well imagined, the Indian attack formed the chief topic of
+conversation at Windsor Hall during the day. Many were the marvellous
+stories which were called to memory, of Indian warfare and of Indian
+massacres—of the sad fate of those who had been their victims, the
+tortures to which their prisoners had been subjected, and the relentless
+cruelty with which even the tender babe, while smiling in the face of
+its ruthless murderer, was dashed pitilessly against a tree. Among these
+narratives, the most painful was that detailing the fate of George
+Cassen, who, tied to a tree by strong cords, was doomed to see his flesh
+and joints cut off, one by one, and roasted before his eyes; his head
+and face flayed with sharp mussel shells, and his belly ripped open;
+until at last, in the extremity of his agony, he welcomed the very
+flames which consumed him, and rescued his body from their cruelty.[16]
+
+Uncle Giles, whose premature action had so nearly ruined them all, and
+yet had probably been the cause of their ultimate safety, was the hero
+of the day, and loud was the laugh at the incident of the gun and
+kitchen chimney. The old man's bruises were soon tended and healed, and
+the grateful creature declared that “Miss Ginny's _lineaments_ always
+did him more good than all the doctors in the world;” and in truth they
+were good for sore eyes.
+
+It was during the morning's conversation that Bernard learned from his
+host, and from Virginia, the intimate relations existing between Mamalis
+and the family at Windsor Hall. Many years before, there had been, about
+two miles from the hall, an Indian village, inhabited by some of the
+tribe of the Pamunkeys. Among them was an old chieftain named
+Nantaquaus,[17] who claimed to be of the same lineage as Powhatan, and
+who, worn out with war, now resided among his people as their
+patriarchal counsellor. In the hostilities which had existed before the
+long peace, which was only ended by the difficulties that gave rise to
+Bacon's Rebellion, the whole of the inhabitants of the little village
+had been cut off by the whites, with the exception of this old patriarch
+and his two orphan grand-children, who were saved through the
+interposition of Colonel Temple, exerted in their behalf on account of
+some kindness he had received at their hands. Grateful for the life of
+his little descendants, for he had long since ceased to care for the
+prolongation of his own existence, old Nantaquaus continued to live on
+terms approaching even to intimacy with the Temples. When at length he
+died, he bequeathed his grand-children to the care of his protector. It
+was his wish, however, that they should still remain in the old wigwam
+where he had lived, and where they could best remember him, and, in
+visions, visit his spirit in the far hunting ground. In compliance with
+this, his last wish, Manteo and Mamalis continued their residence in
+that rude old hut, and secured a comfortable subsistence—he by fishing
+and the chase, and she by the cultivation of their little patch of
+ground, where maize, melons, pompions, cushaus, and the like, rewarded
+her patient labour with their abundant growth. Besides these duties, to
+which the life of the Indian woman was devoted, the young girl in her
+leisure moments, and in the long winter, made, with pretty skill, mats,
+baskets and sandals, weaving the former curiously with the long willow
+twigs which grew along the banks of the neighbouring York river, and
+forming the latter with dressed deer skin, ornamented with flowers made
+of beads and shells, or with the various coloured feathers of the birds.
+Her little manufactures met with a ready sale at the hall, being
+exchanged for sugar and coffee, and other such comforts as civilization
+provides; and for the sale of the excess of these simple articles over
+the home demand, she found a willing agent in the Colonel, who, in his
+frequent visits to Jamestown, disposed of them to advantage.
+
+Despite these associations, however, Manteo retained much of the
+original character of his race, and the wild forest life which he led,
+bringing him into communication with the less civilized members of his
+tribe, helped to cherish the native-fierceness of his temper. Clinging
+with tenacity to the superstitions and pursuits of his fathers, his mind
+was of that sterile soil, in which the seeds of civilization take but
+little root. His sister, without having herself lost all the peculiar
+features of her natural character, was still formed in a different
+mould, and her softer nature had already received some slight impress
+from Virginia's teachings, which led her by slow but certain degrees
+towards the truth. His was of that fierce, tiger nature, which Horace
+has so finely painted in his nervous description of Achilles,
+
+    “Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer!”
+
+While her's can be best understood by her name, Mamalis, which,
+signifying in her own language a young fawn, at once expressed the grace
+of her person and the gentleness of her nature.
+
+Such is a brief but sufficient description of the characters and
+condition of these two young Indians, who play an important part in this
+narrative. The description, we may well suppose, derived additional
+interest to Bernard, from its association with the recent exciting
+scene, and from the interest which his heart began already to entertain
+for the fair narrator.
+
+But probably the most amusing, if not the most instructive portion of
+the morning's conversation, was that in which Mrs. Temple bore a
+conspicuous part. The danger being past, the good woman adverted with
+much pride to the calmness and fortitude which she had displayed during
+the latter part of the trying scene. She never suspected that her
+conduct had been at all open to criticism, for in the excess of her
+agitation, she had not been aware, either of her manner or her language.
+
+“The fact is, gentlemen,” she said, “that while you all displayed great
+coolness and resolution, it was well that you were not surrounded by
+timid women to embarrass you with their fears. I was determined that
+none of you should see my alarm, and I have no doubt you were surprised
+at my calmness.”
+
+“It was very natural for ladies to feel alarm,” said Hansford, scarcely
+able to repress the rising smile, “under circumstances, which inspired
+even strong men with fear. I only wonder that you bore it so well.”
+
+“Ah, it is easy to see you are apologizing for Virginia, and I must
+confess that once or twice she did almost shake my self-possession a
+little by her agitation. But poor thing! we should make allowance for
+her. She is unaccustomed to such scenes. I, who was, you may say,
+cradled in a revolution, and brought up in civil war, am not so easily
+frightened.”
+
+“No, indeed, Bessy,” said old Temple, smiling good humouredly, “so
+entirely were you free from the prevailing fears, that I believe you
+were unconscious half the time of what was going on.”
+
+“Well, really, Colonel Temple,” said the old lady, bristling up at this
+insinuation, “I think it ill becomes you to be exposing me as a jest
+before an entire stranger. However, it makes but little difference. It
+won't last always.”
+
+This prediction of his good wife, that “It,” which always referred to
+her husband's conduct immediately before, was doomed like all other
+earthly things to terminate, was generally a precursor to hysterics. And
+so she shook her head and patted her foot hysterically, while the
+Colonel wholly unconscious of any reasonable cause for the offence he
+had given, rolled up his eyes and shrugged his shoulders in silence.
+
+Leaving the good couple to settle at their leisure those little disputes
+which never lasted on an average more than five minutes, let us follow
+Virginia as she goes down stairs to make some preparation for dinner. As
+she passed through the hall on her way to the store-room, she saw the
+graceful form of Mamalis just leaving the house. In the conversation
+which ensued we must beg the reader to imagine the broken English in
+which the young Indian expressed herself, while we endeavor to give it a
+free and more polite translation.
+
+“Mamalis, you are not going home already, are you,” said Virginia, in a
+gentle voice.
+
+“Yes,” replied the girl, with a sigh.
+
+“Why do you sigh, Mamalis? Are you unhappy, my poor girl?”
+
+“It is very sad to be alone in my poor wigwam,” she replied.
+
+“Then stay with us, Manteo is away, and will probably not be back for
+some days.”
+
+“He would be angry if he came home and found me away.”
+
+“Oh, my poor girl,” said Virginia, taking her tenderly by the hand, “I
+wish you could stay with me, and let me teach you as I used to about God
+and heaven. Oh, think of these things, Mamalis, and they will make you
+happy even when alone. Wouldn't you like to have a friend always near
+you when Manteo is away?”
+
+“Oh yes,” said the girl earnestly.
+
+“Well, there is just such a Friend who will never desert you; who is
+ever near to protect you in danger, and to comfort you in distress.
+Whose eye is never closed in sleep, and whose thoughts are never
+wandering from his charge.”
+
+“That cannot be,” said the young Indian, incredulously.
+
+“Yes, it both can be and is so,” returned her friend. “One who has
+promised, that if we trust in him he will never leave us nor forsake us.
+That friend is the powerful Son of God, and the loving Brother of simple
+man. One who died to show his love, and who lives to show his power to
+protect. It is Jesus Christ.”
+
+“You told me about him long ago,” said Mamalis, shaking her head, “but I
+never saw him. He never comes to Manteo's wigwam.”
+
+“Nay, but He is still your friend,” urged Virginia earnestly. “When you
+left the room this morning on that work of mercy to save us all, I did
+not see you, and yet I told my father that I knew you would do us good.
+Were you less my friend because I didn't see you?
+
+“No.”
+
+“No,” continued Virginia, “you were more my friend, for if you had
+remained with me, we might all have been lost. And so Jesus has but
+withdrawn Himself from our eyes that He may intercede with his offended
+father, as you did with Manteo.”
+
+“Does he tell lies for us?” said the girl with artless simplicity, and
+still remembering her interview with her brother. Virginia felt a thrill
+of horror pass through her heart as she heard such language, but
+remembering the ignorance of her poor blinded pupil, she proceeded.
+
+“Oh! Mamalis, do not talk thus. He of whom I speak is not as we are, and
+cannot commit a sin. But while He cannot commit sin Himself, He can die
+for the sins of others.”
+
+“Well,” said the poor girl, seeing that she had unwittingly hurt the
+feelings of her friend, “I don't understand all that. Your God is so
+high, mine I can see and understand. But you love your God, I only fear
+mine.”
+
+“And do you not believe that God is good, my poor friend?” said
+Virginia, with a sigh.
+
+“From Manitou all good proceeds,” replied Mamalis, as with beautiful
+simplicity she thus detailed her simple creed, which she had been taught
+by her fathers. “From him is life, and joy, and love. The blue sky is
+his home, and the green earth he has made for his pleasure. The fresh
+smelling flowers and the pure air are his breath, and the sweet music of
+the wind through the woods is his voice. The stars that he has sown
+through heaven, are the pure shells which he has picked up by the rivers
+which flow through the spirit land; and the sun is his chariot, with
+which he drives through heaven, while he smiles upon the world. Such is
+Manitou, whose very life is the good giving; the bliss-bestowing.”
+
+“My sweet Mamalis,” said Virginia, “you have, indeed, in your ignorance,
+painted a beautiful picture of the beneficence of God. And can you
+not—do you not thank this Giver of every good and perfect gift for all
+his mercies?”
+
+“I cannot thank him for that which he must bestow,” said the girl. “We
+do not thank the flower because its scent is sweet; nor the birds that
+fill the woods with their songs, because their music is grateful to the
+ear. Manitou is made to be adored, not to be thanked, for his very
+essence is good, and his very breath is love.”
+
+“But remember, my friend, that the voice of this Great Spirit is heard
+in the thunder, as well as in the breeze, and his face is revealed in
+the lightning as well as in the flower. He is the author of evil as well
+as of good, and should we not pray that He would avert the first, even
+if He heed not our prayer to bestow the last.”
+
+If Virginia was shocked by the sentiments of her pupil before, Mamalis
+was now as much so. Such an idea as ascribing evil to the great Spirit
+of the Universe, never entered the mind of the young savage, and now
+that she first heard it, she looked upon it as little less than open
+profanity.
+
+“Manitou is not heard in the thunder nor seen in the lightning,” she
+replied. “It is Okee whose fury against us is aroused, and who thus
+turns blessings into curses, and good into evil. To him we pray that he
+look not upon us with a frown, nor withhold the mercies that flow from
+Manitou; that the rains may fall upon our maize, and the sun may ripen
+it in the full ear; that he send the fat wild deer across my brother's
+path, and ride on his arrow until it reach its heart; that he direct the
+grand council in wisdom, and guide the tomahawk in its aim in battle.
+But I have tarried too long, my brother may await my coming.”
+
+“Nay, but you shall not go—at least,” said Virginia, “without something
+for your trouble. You have nearly lost a day, already. And come often
+and see me, Mamalis, and we will speak of these things again. I will
+teach you that your Manitou is good, as well as the author of good; and
+that he is love, as well as the fountain of love in others; that it is
+to him we should pray and in whom we should trust, and he will lead us
+safely through all our trials in this life, and take us to a purer
+spirit land than that of which you dream.”
+
+Mamalis shook her head, but promised she would come. Then loading her
+with such things as she thought she stood in need of, and which the poor
+girl but seldom met with, except from the same kind hand, Virginia bid
+her God speed, and they parted; Mamalis to her desolate wigwam, and
+Virginia to her labours in the household affairs, which had devolved
+upon her.[18]
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[16] Fact.
+
+[17] This was also the name of the only son of the great Powhatan, as
+appears by John Smith's letter to the Queen, introducing the Princess
+Pocahontas.
+
+[18] In the foregoing scene the language of Mamalis has been purposely
+rendered more pure than as it fell from her lips, because thus it was
+better suited to the dignity of her theme. As for the creed itself, it
+is taken from so many sources, that it would be impossible, even if
+desirable, to quote any authorities. The statements of Smith and
+Beverley, are, however, chiefly relied upon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+    “And will you rend our ancient love asunder,
+    And join with men in scorning your poor friend.”
+                                  _Midsummer Night's Dream._
+
+
+While Virginia was thus engaged, she was surprised by hearing a light
+step behind her, and looking up she saw Hansford pale and agitated,
+standing in the room.
+
+“What in the world is the matter?” she cried, alarmed at his appearance;
+“have the Indians—”
+
+“No, dearest, the Indians are far away ere this. But alas! there are
+other enemies to our peace than they.”
+
+“What do you mean?” she said, “speak! why do you thus agitate me by
+withholding what you would say.”
+
+“My dear Virginia,” replied her lover, “do you not remember that I told
+you last night that I had something to communicate, which would surprise
+and grieve you. I cannot expect you to understand or appreciate fully my
+motives. But you can at least hear me patiently, and by the memory of
+our love, by the sacred seal of our plighted troth, I beg you to hear me
+with indulgence, if not forgiveness.”
+
+“There are but few things, Hansford, that you could do,” said Virginia,
+gravely, “that love would not teach me to forgive. Go on. I hear you
+patiently.”
+
+“My story will be brief,” said Hansford, “although it may involve sad
+consequences to me. I need only say, that I have felt the oppressions of
+the government, under which the colony is groaning; I have witnessed the
+duplicity and perfidy of Sir William Berkeley, and I have determined
+with the arm and heart of a man, to maintain the rights of a man.”
+
+“What oppressions, what perfidy, what rights, do you mean?” said
+Virginia, turning pale with apprehension.
+
+“You can scarcely understand those questions dearest. But do you not
+know that the temporizing policy, the criminal delay of Berkeley, has
+already made the blood of Englishmen flow by the hand of savages. Even
+the agony which you this morning suffered, is due to the indirect
+encouragement given to the Indians by his fatal indulgence.”
+
+“And you have proved false to your country,” cried Virginia. “Oh!
+Hansford, for the sake of your honour, for the sake of your love, unsay
+the word which stains your soul with treason.”
+
+“Nay, my own Virginia, understand me. I may be a rebel to my king. I may
+almost sacrifice my love, but I am true, ever true to my country. The
+day has passed, Virginia, when that word was so restricted in its
+meaning as to be confounded with the erring mortal, who should be its
+minister and not its tyrant. The blood of Charles the First has mingled
+with the blood of those brave martyrs who perished for liberty, and has
+thus cemented the true union between a prince and his people. It has
+given to the world, that useful lesson, that the sovereign is invested
+with his power, to protect, and not to destroy the rights of his people;
+that freemen may be restrained by wholesome laws, but that they are
+freemen still. That lesson, Sir William Berkeley must yet be taught. The
+patriot who dares to teach him, is at last, the truest lover of his
+country.”
+
+“I scarcely know what you say,” said the young girl, weeping, “but tell
+me, oh, tell me, have you joined your fortunes with a rebel?”
+
+“If thus you choose to term him who loves freedom better than chains,
+who would rather sacrifice life itself than to drag out a weary
+existence beneath the galling yoke of oppression, I have. I know you
+blame me. I know you hate me now,” he added, in a sad voice, “but while
+it was my duty, as a freeman and a patriot, to act thus, it was also my
+duty, as an honourable man, to tell you all. You remember the last lines
+of our favourite song,
+
+    “I had not loved thee dear, so much,
+    Loved I not honour more.”
+
+“Alas! I remember the words but too well,” replied Virginia, sadly, “but
+I had been taught that the honour there spoken of, was loyalty to a
+king, not treason. Oh, Hansford, forgive me, but how can I, reared as I
+have been, with such a father, how can I”—she hesitated, unable to
+complete the fatal sentence.
+
+“I understand you,” said Hansford. “But one thing then remains undone.
+The proscribed rebel must be an outlaw to Virginia Temple's heart. The
+trial is a sore one, but even this sacrifice can I make to my beloved
+country. Thus then I give you back your troth. Take it—take it,” he
+cried, and with one hand covering his eyes, he seemed with the other to
+tear from his heart some treasured jewel that refused to yield its
+place.
+
+The violence of his manner, even more than the fatal words he had
+spoken, alarmed Virginia, and with a wild scream, that rang through the
+old hall, she threw herself fainting upon his neck. The noise reached
+the ears of the party, who remained above stairs, and Colonel Temple,
+his wife, and Bernard, threw open the door and stood for a moment silent
+spectators of the solemn scene. There stood Hansford, his eye lit up
+with excitement, his face white as ashes, and his strong arm supporting
+the trembling form of the young girl, while with his other hand he was
+chafing her white temples, and smoothing back the long golden tresses
+that had fallen dishevelled over her face.
+
+“My child, my child,” shrieked her mother, who was the first to speak,
+“what on earth is the matter?”
+
+“Yes, Hansford, in the devil's name, what is to pay?” said the old
+colonel. “Why, Jeanie,” he added, taking the fair girl tenderly in his
+arms, “you are not half the heroine you were when the Indians were here.
+There now, that's a sweet girl, open your blue eyes and tell old father
+what is the matter.”
+
+“Nothing, dear father,” said Virginia, faintly, as she slowly opened her
+eyes. “I have been very foolish, that's all.”
+
+“Nay, Jeanie, it takes more than nothing or folly to steal the bloom
+away from these rosy cheeks.”
+
+“Perhaps the young gentleman can explain more easily,” said Bernard,
+fixing his keen eyes on his rival. “A little struggle, perhaps, between
+love and loyalty.”
+
+“Mr. Bernard, with all his shrewdness, would probably profit by the
+reflection,” said Hansford, coldly, “that as a stranger here, his
+opinions upon a matter of purely family concern, are both unwelcome and
+impertinent.”
+
+“May be so,” replied Bernard with a sneer; “but scarcely more unwelcome
+than the gross and continued deception practised by yourself towards
+those who have honoured you with their confidence.”
+
+Hansford, stung by the remark, laid his hand upon his sword, but was
+withheld by Colonel Temple, who cried out with impatience,
+
+“Why, what the devil do you mean? Zounds, it seems to me that my house
+is bewitched to-day. First those cursed Indians, with their infernal
+yells, threatening death and destruction to all and sundry; then my
+daughter here, playing the fool before my face, according to her own
+confession; and lastly, a couple of forward boys picking a quarrel with
+one another after a few hours' acquaintance. Damn it, Tom, you were wont
+to have a plain tongue in your head. Tell me, what is the matter?”
+
+“My kind old friend,” said Hansford, with a tremulous voice, “I would
+fain have reserved for your private ear, an explanation which is now
+rendered necessary by that insolent minion, whose impertinence had
+already received the chastisement it deserves, but for an unfortunate
+interruption.”
+
+“Nay, Tom,” said the Colonel, “no harsh words. Remember this young man
+is my guest, and as such, entitled to respect from all under my roof.”
+
+“Well then, sir,” continued Hansford, “this young lady's agitation was
+caused by the fact that I have lately pursued a course, which, while I
+believe it to be just and honourable, I fear will meet with but little
+favour in your eyes.”
+
+“As much in the dark as ever,” said the Colonel, perplexed beyond
+measure, for his esteem for Hansford prevented him from suspecting the
+true cause of his daughter's disquiet. “Damn it, man, Davus sum non
+Œdipus. Speak out plainly, and if your conduct has been, as you say,
+consistent with your honour, trust to an old friend to forgive you.
+Zounds, boy, I have been young myself, and can make allowance for the
+waywardness of youth. Been gaming a little too high, hey; well, the
+rest[19] was not so low in my day, but that I can excuse that, if you
+didn't 'pull down the side.'”[20]
+
+“I would fain do the young man a service, for I bear him no ill-will,
+though he has treated me a little harshly,” said Bernard, as he saw
+Hansford silently endeavouring to frame a reply in the most favourable
+terms, “I see he is ashamed of his cause, and well he may be; for you
+must know that he has become a great man of late, and has linked his
+fate to a certain Nathaniel Bacon.”
+
+The old loyalist started as he heard this unexpected announcement, then
+with a deep sigh, which seemed to come from his very soul, he turned to
+Hansford and said, “My boy, deny the foul charge; say it is not so.”
+
+“It is, indeed, true,” replied Hansford, mournfully, “but when—”
+
+“But when the devil!” cried the old man, bursting into a fit of rage;
+“and you expect me to stand here and listen to your justification.
+Zounds, sir, I would feel like a traitor myself to hear you speak. And
+this is the serpent that I have warmed and cherished at my hearth-stone.
+Out of my house, sir!”
+
+“To think,” chimed in Mrs. Temple, for once agreeing fully with her
+husband, “how near our family, that has always prided itself on its
+loyalty, was being allied to a traitor. But he shall never marry
+Virginia, I vow.”
+
+“No, by God,” said the enraged loyalist; “she should rot in her grave
+first.”
+
+“Miss Temple is already released from her engagement,” said Hansford,
+recovering his calmness in proportion as the other party lost their's.
+“She is free to choose for herself, sir.”
+
+“And that choice shall never light on you, apostate,” cried Temple,
+“unless she would bring my grey hairs in sorrow to the grave.”
+
+“And mine, too,” said the old lady, beginning to weep.
+
+“I will not trouble you longer with my presence,” said Hansford,
+proudly, “except to thank you for past kindness, which I can never
+forget. Farewell, Colonel Temple, I respect your prejudices, though they
+have led you to curse me. Farewell, Mrs. Temple, I will ever think of
+your generous hospitality with gratitude. Farewell, Virginia, forget
+that such a being as Thomas Hansford ever darkened your path through
+life, and think of our past love as a dream. I can bear your
+forgetfulness, but not your hate. For you, sir,” he added, turning to
+Alfred Bernard, “let me hope that we will meet again, where no
+interruption will prevent our final separation.”
+
+With these words, Hansford, his form proudly erect, but his heart bowed
+down with sorrow, slowly left the house.
+
+“Are you not a Justice of the Peace?” asked Bernard, with a meaning
+look.
+
+“And what is that to you, sir?” replied the old man, suspecting the
+design of the question.
+
+“Only, sir, that as such it is your sworn duty to arrest that traitor. I
+know it is painful, but still it is your duty.”
+
+“And who the devil told you to come and teach me my duty, sir?” said the
+old man, wrathfully. “Let me tell you, sir, that Tom Hansford, with all
+his faults, is a d—d sight better than a great many who are free from
+the stain of rebellion. Rebellion!—oh, my God!—poor, poor Tom.”
+
+“Nay, then, sir,” said Bernard, meekly, “I beg your pardon. I only felt
+it my duty to remind you of what you might have forgotten. God forbid
+that I should wish to endanger the life of a poor young man, whose only
+fault may be that he was too easily led away by others.”
+
+“You are right, by God,” said the Colonel, quickly. “He is the victim of
+designing men, and yet I never said a word to reclaim him. Oh, I have
+acted basely and not like a friend. I will go now and bring him back,
+wife; though if he don't repent—zounds!—neither will I; no, not for a
+million friends.”
+
+So saying, the noble-hearted old loyalist, whose impulsive nature was as
+prompt to redeem as to commit an error, started from the room to reclaim
+his lost boy. It was too late. Hansford, anticipating the result of the
+fatal revelation, had ordered his horse even before his first interview
+with Virginia. The old Colonel only succeeded in catching a glimpse of
+him from the porch, as at a full gallop he disappeared through the
+forest.
+
+With a heavy sigh he returned to the study, there to meet with the
+consolations of his good wife, which were contained in the following
+words:
+
+“Well, I hope and trust he is gone, and will never darken our doors
+again. You know, my dear, I always told you that you were wrong about
+that young man, Hansford. There always seemed to be a lack of frankness
+and openness in his character, and although I do not like to interpose
+my objections, yet I never altogether approved of the match. You know I
+always told you so.”
+
+“Told the devil!” cried the old man, goaded to the very verge of despair
+by this new torture. “I beg your pardon, Bessy, for speaking so hastily,
+but, damn it, if all the angels in Heaven had told me that Tom Hansford
+could prove a traitor, I would not have believed it.”
+
+And how felt she, that wounded, trusting one, who thus in a short day
+had seen the hopes and dreams of happiness, which fancy had woven in her
+young heart, all rudely swept away! 'Twere wrong to lift the veil from
+that poor stricken heart, now torn with grief too deep for words—too
+deep, alas! for tears. With her cheek resting on her white hand, she
+gazed tearlessly, but vacantly, towards the forest where he had so
+lately vanished as a dream. To those who spoke to her, she answered
+sadly in monosyllables, and then turned her head away, as if it were
+still sweet to cherish thus the agony which consumed her. But the
+bitterest drop in all this cup of woe, was the self-reproach which
+mingled with her recollection of that sad scene. When he had frankly
+given back her troth, she, alas! had not stayed his hand, nor by a word
+had told him how truly, even in his guilt, her heart was his. And now,
+she thought, when thus driven harshly into the cold world, his only
+friends among the enemies to truth, his enemies its friends, how one
+little word of love, or even of pity, might have redeemed him from
+error, or at least have cheered him in his dark career.
+
+But bear up bravely, sweet one; for heavier, darker sorrows yet must
+cast their shadows on thy young heart, ere yet its warm pulsations cease
+to beat, and it be laid at rest.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[19] Rest was the prescribed limit to the size of the venture.
+
+[20] To pull down the side was a technical term with our ancestors for
+cheating.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+    “Wounded in both my honour and my love;
+      They have pierced me in two tender parts.
+    Yet, could I take my just revenge,
+      It would in some degree assuage my smart.”
+                                          _Vanbrugh._
+
+
+It was at an early hour on the following morning that the queer old
+chariot of Colonel Temple—one of the few, by the way, which wealth had
+as yet introduced into the colony—was drawn up before the door. The two
+horses of the gentlemen were standing ready saddled and bridled, in the
+care of the hostler. In a few moments, the ladies, all dressed for the
+journey, and the gentlemen, with their heavy spurs, long, clanging
+swords, and each with a pair of horseman's pistols, issued from the
+house into the yard. The old lady, declaring that they were too late,
+and that, if her advice had been taken, they would have been half way to
+Jamestown, was the first to get into the carriage, armed with a huge
+basket of bread, beef's tongue, cold ham and jerked venison, which was
+to supply the place of dinner on the road. Virginia, pale and sad, but
+almost happy at any change from scenes where every object brought up
+some recollection of the banished Hansford, followed her mother; and the
+large trunk having been strapped securely behind the carriage, and the
+band-box, containing the old lady's tire for the ball and other light
+articles of dress, having been secured, the little party were soon in
+motion.
+
+The hope and joy with which Virginia had looked forward to this trip to
+Jamestown had been much enhanced by the certainty that Hansford would be
+there. With the joyousness of her girlish heart, she had pictured to
+herself the scene of pleasure and festivity which awaited her. The Lady
+Frances' birth-day, always celebrated at the palace with the voice of
+music and the graceful dance—with the presence of the noblest cavaliers
+from all parts of the colony, and the smiles of the fairest damsels who
+lighted the society of the Old Dominion—was this year to be celebrated
+with unusual festivities. But, alas! how changed were the feelings of
+Virginia now!—how blighted were the hopes which had blossomed in her
+heart!
+
+Their road lay for the most part through a beautiful forest, where the
+tall poplar, the hickory, the oak and the chestnut were all indigenous,
+and formed an avenue shaded by their broad branches from the intense
+rays of the summer sun. Now and then the horses were startled at the
+sudden appearance of some fairy-footed deer, as it bounded lightly but
+swiftly through the woods; or at the sudden whirring of the startled
+pheasant, as she flew from their approach; or the jealous gobble of the
+stately turkey, as he led his strutting dames into his thicket-harem.
+The nimble grey squirrel, too, chattered away saucily in his high leafy
+nest, secure from attack from his very insignificance. Birds innumerable
+were seen flitting from branch to branch, and tuning their mellow voices
+as choristers in this forest-temple of Nature. The song of the thrush
+and the red-bird came sweetly from the willows, whose weeping branches
+overhung the neighbouring banks of a broad stream; the distant dove
+joined her mournful melody to their cheerful notes, and the woodpecker,
+on the blasted trunk of some stricken oak, tapped his rude bass in
+unison with the happy choir of the forest.
+
+All this Virginia saw and heard, and _felt_—yes, felt it all as a
+bitter mockery: as if, in these joyous bursts from the big heart of
+Nature, she were coldly regardless of the sorrows of those, her
+children, who had sought their happiness apart; as though the avenging
+Creator had given man naught but the bitter fruit of that fatal tree of
+knowledge, while he lavished with profusion on all the rest of his
+creation the choicest fruits that flourished in His paradise.
+
+In vain did Bernard, with his soft and winning voice, point out these
+beauties to Virginia. In vain, with all the rich stores of his gifted
+mind, did he seek to alienate her thoughts from the one subject that
+engrossed them. She scarcely heard what he said, and when at length
+urged by the impatient nudges of her mother to answer, she showed by her
+absence of mind how faint had been the impression which he made. A
+thousand fears for the safety of her lover mingled with her thoughts.
+Travelling alone in that wild country, with hostile Indians infesting
+the colony, what, alas! might be his fate! Or even if he should escape
+these dangers, still, in open arms against his government, proclaimed a
+rebel by the Governor, a more horrible destiny might await him. And then
+the overwhelming thought came upon her, that be his fate in other
+respects what it might—whether he should fall by the cruelty of the
+savage, the sword of the enemy, or, worst of all, by the vengeance of
+his indignant country—to her at least he was lost forever.
+
+Avoiding carefully any reference to the subject of her grief, and
+bending his whole mind to the one object of securing her attention,
+Alfred Bernard endeavored to beguile her with graphic descriptions of
+the scenes he had left in England. He spoke—and on such subjects none
+could speak more charmingly—of the brilliant society of wits, and
+statesmen, and beauties, which clustered together in the metropolis and
+the palace of the restored Stuart. Passing lightly over the vices of the
+court, he dwelt upon its pageantry, its wit, its philosophy, its poetry.
+The talents of the gay and accomplished, but vicious Rochester, were no
+more seen dimmed in their lustre by his faithlessness to his wife, or
+his unprincipled vices in the _beau monde_ of London. Anecdote after
+anecdote, of Waller, of Cowley, of Dryden, flowed readily from his lips.
+The coffee-houses were described, where wit and poetry, science and art,
+politics and religion, were discussed by the first intellects of the
+age, and allured the aspiring youth of England from the vices of
+dissipation, that they might drink in rich draughts of knowledge from
+these Pierian springs. The theatre, the masque, the revels, which the
+genial rays of the Restoration had once more warmed into life, next
+formed the subjects of his conversation. Then passing from this picture
+of gay society, he referred to the religious discussions of the day. His
+eye sparkled and his cheek glowed as he spoke of the triumphs of the
+established Church over puritanical heresy; and his lip curled, and he
+laughed satirically, as he described the heroic sufferings of some
+conscientious Baptist, dragged at the tail of a cart, and whipped from
+his cell in Newgate to Tyburn hill. Gradually did Virginia's thoughts
+wander from the one sad topic which had engrossed them, and by
+imperceptible degrees, even unconsciously to herself, she became deeply
+interested in his discourse. Her mother, whom the wily Bernard took
+occasion ever and anon, to propitiate with flattery, was completely
+carried away, and in the inmost recesses of her heart a hope was
+hatched that the eloquent young courtier would soon take the place of
+the rebel Hansford, in the affections of her daughter.
+
+We have referred to a stream, along whose forest-banks their road had
+wound. That stream was the noble York, whose broad bosom, now broader
+and more beautiful than ever, lay full in their view, and on which the
+duck, the widgeon and the gull were quietly floating. Here and there
+could be seen the small craft of some patient fisherman, as it stood
+anchored at a little distance from the shore, its white sail shrouding
+the solitary mast; and at an opening in the woods, about a mile ahead,
+rose the tall masts of an English vessel, riding safely in the broad
+harbour of Yorktown—then the commercial rival of Jamestown in the
+colony.
+
+The road now became too narrow for the gentlemen any longer to ride by
+the side of the carriage, and at the suggestion of the Colonel, an
+arrangement was adopted by which he should lead the little party in
+front, while Bernard should bring up the rear. This precaution was the
+more necessary, as the abrupt banks of the river, with the dense bushes
+which grew along them, was a safe lurking place for any Indians who
+might be skulking about the country.
+
+“A very nice gentleman, upon my word,” said Mrs. Temple, when Alfred
+Bernard was out of hearing. “Virginia, don't you like him?”
+
+“Yes, very much, as far as I have an opportunity of judging.”
+
+“His information is so extensive, his views so correct, his conversation
+so delightful. Don't you think so?”
+
+“Yes, mother,” replied Virginia.
+
+“Yes, mother! Why don't you show more spirit?” said her mother. “There
+you sat moping in the carriage the whole way, looking for all the world
+as if you didn't understand a word he was saying. That isn't right, my
+dear; you should look up and show more spirit—d'ye hear!”
+
+“You mistake,mother; I did enjoy the ride very much, and found Mr.
+Bernard very agreeable.”
+
+“Well, but you were so lack-a-daisical and yea, nay, in your manner to
+him. How do you expect a young man to feel any interest in you, if you
+never give him any encouragement?”
+
+“Why, mother, I don't suppose Mr. Bernard takes any more interest in me
+than he would in any casual acquaintance; and, indeed, if he did, I
+certainly cannot return it. But I will try and cheer up, and be more
+agreeable for your sake.”
+
+“That's right, my dear daughter; remember that your old mother knows
+what is best for you, and she will never advise you wrong. I think it is
+very plain that this young gentleman has taken a fancy to you already,
+and while I would not have you too pert and forward, yet it is well
+enough to show off, and, in a modest way, do everything to encourage
+him. You know I always said, my dear, that you were too young when you
+formed an attachment for that young Hansford, and that you did not know
+your own heart, and now you see I was right.”
+
+Virginia did not see that her mother was right, but she was too well
+trained to reply; and so, without a word, she yielded herself once more
+to her own sad reflections, and, true-hearted girl that she was, she
+soon forgot the fascinations of Alfred Bernard in her memory of
+Hansford.
+
+They had not proceeded far, when Bernard saw, seated on the trunk of a
+fallen tree, the dusky form of a young Indian, whom he soon recognized
+as the leader of the party who the day before had made the attack upon
+Windsor Hall. The interest which he felt in this young man, whose early
+history he had heard, combined with a curiosity to converse with one of
+the strange race to which he belonged, and, as will be seen, a darker
+motive and a stronger reason than either, induced Bernard to rein up his
+horse, and permitting his companions to proceed some distance in front,
+to accost the young Indian. Alfred Bernard, by nature and from
+education, was perfectly fearless, though he lacked the magnanimity
+which, united with fearlessness, constitutes bravery. Laying his hand on
+his heart, which, as he had already learned, was the friendly salutation
+used with and toward the savages, he rode slowly towards Manteo. The
+young Indian recognized the gesture which assured him of his friendly
+intent, and rising from his rude seat, patiently waited for him to
+speak.
+
+“I would speak to you,” said Bernard.
+
+“Speak on.”
+
+“Are you entirely alone?”
+
+“Ugh,” grunted Manteo, affirmatively.
+
+“Where are those who were with you at Windsor Hall?”
+
+“Gone to Delaware,[21] to Matchicomoco.”[22]
+
+“Why did you not go with them?” asked Bernard.
+
+“Manteo love long-knife—Pamunkey hate Manteo—drive him away from his
+tribe,” said the young savage, sorrowfully.
+
+The truth flashed upon Bernard at once. This young savage, who, in a
+moment of selfish ambition, for his own personal advancement, had
+withheld the vengeance of his people, was left by those whom he had once
+led, as no longer worthy of their confidence. In the fate of this
+untutored son of the forest, the young courtier had found a sterner
+rebuke to selfishness and ambition than he had ever seen in the court of
+the monarch of England.
+
+“And so you are alone in the world now?” said Bernard.
+
+“Ugh!”
+
+“With nothing to hope or to live for?”
+
+“One hope left,” said Manteo, laying his hand on his tomahawk.
+
+“What is that?”
+
+“Revenge.”
+
+“On whom?”
+
+“On long-knives and Pamunkeys.”
+
+“If you live for revenge,” said Bernard, “we live for nearly the same
+object. You may trust me—I will be your friend. Do you know me?”
+
+“No!” said Manteo, shaking his head.
+
+“Well, I know you,” said Bernard. “Now, what if I help you to the sweet
+morsel of revenge you speak of?”
+
+“I tank you den.”
+
+“Do you know your worst enemy?”
+
+“Manteo!”
+
+“How—why so?”
+
+“I make all my oder enemy.”
+
+“Nay, but I know an enemy who is even worse than yourself, because he
+has made you your own enemy. One who oppresses your race, and is even
+now making war upon your people. I mean Thomas Hansford.”
+
+“Ugh!” said Manteo, with more surprise than he had yet manifested; and
+for once, leaving his broken English, he cried in his own tongue,
+“Ahoaleu Virginia.” (He loves Virginia Temple.)
+
+“And do you?” said Bernard, guessing at his meaning, and marking with
+surprise the more than ordinary feeling with which Manteo had uttered
+these words.
+
+“See dere,” replied Manteo, holding up an arrow, which he had already
+taken from his quiver, as if with the intention of fixing it to his
+bow-string. “De white crenepo,[23] de maiden, blunt Manteo's arrow when
+it would fly to her father's heart.” At the same time he pointed towards
+the road along which the carriage had lately passed.
+
+“By the holy Virgin,” muttered Bernard, “methinks the whole colony,
+Indians, negroes, and all, are going stark mad after this girl. And so
+you hate Hansford, then?” he said aloud.
+
+“No, I can't hate what she loves,” replied Manteo, feelingly.
+
+“Why did you aid in attacking her father's house then, yesterday?”
+
+“Long-knives strike only when dey hate; Pamunkey fight from duty. If
+Manteo drop de tomahawk because he love, he is squaw, not a brave.”
+
+“But this Hansford,” said Bernard, “is in arms against your people, whom
+the government would protect.”
+
+“Ugh!” grunted the young warrior. “Pamunkey want not long-knives'
+protect. De grand werowance of long-knives has cut down de peace tree
+and broke de pipe, and de tomahawk is now dug up. De grand werowance
+protect red man like eagle protect young hare.”
+
+“Nay, but we would be friends with the Indians,” urged Bernard. “We
+would share this great country with them, and Berkeley would be the
+great father of the Pamunkeys.”
+
+The Indian looked with ineffable disdain on his companion, and then
+turning towards the river, he pointed to a large fish-hawk, who, with a
+rapid swoop, had caught in his talons a fish that had just bubbled above
+the water for breath, and borne him far away in the air.
+
+“See dere,” said Manteo; “water belong to fish—hawk is fish's friend.”
+
+Bernard saw that he had entirely mistaken the character of his
+companion. The vengeance of the Indians being once aroused, they failed
+to discriminate between the authors of the injuries which they had
+received, and those who sought to protect them; and they attributed to
+the great werowance of the long-knives (for so they styled the Governor
+of Virginia) all the blame of the attack and slaughter of the
+unoffending Susquehannahs. But the wily Bernard was not cast down by his
+ill success, in attempting to arouse the vengeance of Manteo against his
+rival.
+
+“Your sister is at the hall often, is she not?” he asked, after a brief
+pause.
+
+“Ugh,” said the Indian, relapsing into this affirmative grunt.
+
+“So is Hansford—your sister knows him.”
+
+“What of dat?”
+
+“Excuse me, my poor friend,” said Bernard, “but I came to warn you that
+your sister knows him as she should not.”
+
+The forest echoed with the wild yell that burst from the lips of Manteo
+at this cruel fabrication—so loud, so wild, so fearful, that the ducks
+which had been quietly basking in the sun, and admiring their graceful
+shadows in the water, were startled, and with an alarmed cry flew far
+away down the river.
+
+The Indian character, although still barbarous, had been much improved
+by association with the English. Respect for the female sex, and a
+scrupulous regard for female purity, which are ever the first results of
+dawning civilization, had already taken possession of the benighted
+souls of the Indians of Virginia. More especially was this so with the
+young Manteo, whose association with the whites, notwithstanding his
+strong devotion to his own race, had imparted more refinement and purity
+to his nature than was enjoyed by most of his tribe. Mamalis, the pure,
+the spotless Mamalis—she, whom from his earliest boyhood he had hoped
+to bestow on some young brave, who, foremost in the chase, or most
+successful in the ambuscade, could tell the story of his achievements
+among the chieftains at the council-fire—it was too much; the stern
+heart of the young Indian, though “trained from his tree-rocked cradle
+the fierce extremes of good and ill to bear,” burst forth in a gush of
+agony, as he thus heard the fatal knell of all his pride and all his
+hope.
+
+Bernard was at first startled by the shriek, but soon regained his
+composure, and calm and composed regarded his victim. When at length the
+first violence of grief had subsided, he said, with a soft, mild voice,
+which fell fresh as dew upon the withered heart of the poor Indian,
+
+“I am sorry for you, my friend, but it is too true. And now, Manteo,
+what can be your only consolation?”
+
+“Revenge is de wighsacan[24] to cure dis wound,” said the poor savage.
+
+“Right. This is the only food for brave and injured men. Well, we
+understand each other now—don't we?”
+
+“Ugh,” grunted Manteo, with a look of satisfaction.
+
+“Very well,” returned Bernard, “is your tomahawk sharp?”
+
+“It won't cut deep as dis wound, but I will sharpen it on my broken
+heart,” replied Manteo, with a heavy sigh.
+
+“Right bravely said. And now farewell; I will help you as I can,” said
+Alfred Bernard, as he turned and rode away, while the poor Indian sank
+down again upon his rude log seat, his head resting on his hands.
+
+“And this the world calls villainy!” mused Bernard, as he rode along.
+“But it is the weapon with which nature has armed the weak, that he may
+battle with the strong. For what purpose was the faculty of intrigue
+bestowed upon man, if it were not to be exercised? and, if exercised at
+all, why surely it can never be directed to a purer object than the
+accomplishment of good. Thus, then, what the croaking moralist calls
+evil, may always be committed if good be the result; and what higher
+good can be attained in life than happiness, and what purer happiness
+can there be than revenge? No man shall ever cross my path but once with
+safety, and this young Virginia rebel has already done so. He has shown
+his superior skill and courage with the sword, and has made me ask my
+life at his hands. Let him look to it that he may not have to plead for
+his own life in vain. This young Indian's thirst will not be quenched
+but with blood. By the way, a lucky hit was that. His infernal yell is
+sounding in my ears yet. But Hansford stands in my way besides. This
+fair young maiden, with her beauty, her intellect, and her land, may
+make my fortune yet; and who can blame the poor, friendless orphan, if
+he carve his way to honour and independence even through the blood of a
+rival. The poor, duped savage whom I just left, said that he was his own
+worst enemy; I am wiser in being my own best friend. Tell me not of the
+world—it is mine oyster, which I will open by my wits as well as by my
+sword. Prate not of morality and philanthropy. Man is a microcosm, a
+world within himself, and he only is a wise one who uses the world
+without for the success of the world within. Once supplant this Hansford
+in the love of his betrothed bride, and I succeed to the broad acres of
+Windsor Hall. Old Berkeley shall be the scaffolding by which I will rise
+to power and position, and when he rots down, the building I erect will
+be but the fairer for the riddance. Who recks the path which he has
+trod, when home and happiness are in view? What general thinks of the
+blood he has shed, when the shout of victory rings in his ears? Be true
+to yourself, Alfred Bernard, though false to all the world beside! At
+last, good father Bellini, thou hast taught me true wisdom—'Success
+sanctifies sin.'”
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[21] The name of the village at the confluence of Pamunkey and
+Mattapony, now called West Point.
+
+[22] Grand Council of the Indians.
+
+[23] A woman.
+
+[24] A root used by the Indians successfully in the cure of all wounds.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+    “Is this your joyous city, whose antiquity is of ancient days?”
+                                                              _Isaiah._
+
+        “One mouldering tower, o'ergrown with ivy, shows
+        Where first Virginia's capital arose,
+        And to the tourist's vision far withdrawn
+        Stands like a sentry at the gates of dawn.
+        The church has perished—faint the lines and dim
+        Of those whose voices raised the choral hymn,
+        Go read the record on the mossy stone,
+        'Tis brief and sad—oblivion claims its own!”
+                                        _Thompson's Virginia._
+
+
+The traveller, as he is borne on the bosom of the noble James, on the
+wheezing, grunting steamboat, may still see upon the bank of the river,
+a lonely ruin, which is all that now remains of the old church at
+Jamestown. Despite its loneliness and desolation, that old church has
+its memories, which hallow it in the heart of every Virginian. From its
+ruined chancel that “singular excellent” Christian and man, good Master
+Hunt, was once wont, in far gone times, to preach the gospel of peace to
+those stern old colonists, who in full armour, and ever prepared for
+Indian interruptions, listened with devout attention. There in the front
+pew, which stood nearest the chancel, had sat John Smith, whose sturdy
+nature and strong practical sense were alone sufficient to repel the
+invasion of heathen savages, and provide for the wants of a famishing
+colony. Yet, with all the sternness and rigour of his character, his
+heart was subdued by the power of religion, as he bowed in meek
+submission to its precepts, and relied with humble confidence upon its
+promises. The pure light of Heaven was reflected even from that strong
+iron heart. At that altar had once knelt a dusky but graceful form, the
+queenly daughter of a noble king; and, her savage nature enlightened by
+the rays of the Sun of righteousness, she had there received upon her
+royal brow the sacred sign of her Redeemer's cross. And many a dark eye
+was bedewed with tears, and many a strong heart was bowed in prayer, as
+the stout old colonists stood around, and saw the baptismal rite which
+sealed the profession and the faith of the brave, the beautiful, the
+generous Pocahontas.
+
+But while this old ruin thus suggests many an association with the olden
+time, there is nothing left to tell the antiquary of the condition and
+appearance of Jamestown, the first capital of Virginia. The island, as
+the narrow neck of land on which the town was built is still erroneously
+called, may yet be seen; but not a vestige of the simple splendour, with
+which colonial pride delighted to adorn it, remains to tell the story of
+its glory or destruction. And yet, to the eye and the heart of the
+colonist, this little town was a delight: for here were assembled the
+Governor and his council, who, with mimic pride, emulated the grandeur
+and the pageant of Whitehall. Here, too, were the burgesses congregated
+at the call of the Governor, who, with their stately wives and blooming
+daughters, contributed to the delight of the metropolitan society. Here,
+too, was the principal mart, where the planters shipped their tobacco
+for the English market, and received from home those articles of
+manufacture and those rarer delicacies which the colony was as yet
+unable to supply. And here, too, they received news from Europe, which
+served the old planters and prurient young statesmen with topics of
+conversation until the next arrival; while the young folks gazed with
+wonder and delight at the ship, its crew and passengers, who had
+actually been in that great old England of which they had heard their
+fathers talk so much.
+
+The town, like an old-fashioned sermon, was naturally divided into two
+parts. The first, which lay along the river, was chiefly devoted to
+commercial purposes—the principal resort of drunken seamen, and those
+land harpies who prey upon them for their own subsistence. Here were
+located those miserable tippling-houses, which the Assembly had so long
+and so vainly attempted to suppress. Here were the busy forwarding
+houses, with their dark counting-rooms, their sallow clerks, and their
+bills of lading. Here the shrewd merchant and the bluff sea-captain
+talked loudly and learnedly of the laws of trade, the restrictive policy
+of the navigation laws, and the growing importance of the commercial
+interests of the colony. And here was the immense warehouse, under the
+especial control of the government, with its hundreds of hogsheads of
+tobacco, all waiting patiently their turn for inspection; and the
+sweating negroes, tearing off the staves of the hogsheads to display the
+leaf to view, and then noisily hammering them together again, while the
+impatient inspector himself went the rounds and examined the wide spread
+plant, and adjudged its quality; proving at the same time his capacity
+as a connoisseur, by the enormous quid which he rolled pleasantly in his
+mouth.
+
+But it is the more fashionable part of the town, with which our story
+has to do; and here, indeed, even at this early day, wealth and taste
+had done much to adorn the place, and to add to the comfort of the
+inhabitants. At one end of the long avenue, which was known as Stuart
+street, in compliment to the royal family, was situated the palace of
+Sir William Berkeley. Out of his private means and the immense salary of
+his office, the governor had done much to beautify and adorn his
+grounds. A lawn, with its well shaven turf, stretched in front of the
+house for more than a hundred yards, traversed in various directions
+with white gravelled walks, laid out with much taste, and interspersed
+with large elms and poplars. In the centre of the lawn was a beautiful
+summer-house, over which the white jessamine and the honeysuckle,
+planted by Lady Frances' own hand, clambered in rich profusion. The
+house, itself, though if it still remained, it would seem rather quaint
+and old-fashioned, was still very creditable as a work of architecture.
+A long porch, or gallery, supported by simple Doric pillars, stretched
+from one end of it to the other, and gave an air of finish and beauty to
+the building. The house was built of brick, brought all the way from
+England, for although the colonists had engaged in the manufacture of
+brick to a certain extent, yet for many years after the time of which we
+write, they persisted in this extraordinary expense, in supplying the
+materials for their better class of buildings.
+
+At the other end of Stuart street was the state-house, erected in
+pursuance of an act, the preamble of which recites the disgrace of
+having laws enacted and judicial proceedings conducted in an ale-house.
+This building, like the palace, was surrounded by a green lawn,
+ornamented with trees and shrubbery, and enclosed by a handsome
+pale—midway the gate and the portico, on either side of the broad
+gravel walk, were two handsome houses, one of which was the residence of
+Sir Henry Chicherley, Vice-President of the Council, and afterwards
+deputy-governor upon the death of Governor Jeffreys. The other house was
+the residence of Thomas Ludwell, Secretary to the colony, and brother to
+Colonel Philip Ludwell, whose sturdy and unflinching loyalty during the
+rebellion, has preserved his name to our own times.
+
+The state-house, itself, was a large brick building, with two wings, the
+one occupied by the governor and his council, the other by the general
+court, composed indeed of the same persons as the council, but acting in
+a judicial capacity. The centre building was devoted to the House
+Burgesses exclusively, containing their hall, library, and apartments
+for different offices. The whole structure was surmounted by a queer
+looking steeple, resembling most one of those high, peaked hats, which
+Hogarth has placed on the head of Hudibras and his puritan compeers.
+
+Between the palace and the state-house, as we have said before, ran
+Stuart street, the thoroughfare of the little metropolis, well built up
+on either side with stores and the residences of the prominent citizens
+of the town. There was one peculiarity in the proprietors of these
+houses, which will sound strangely in the ears of their descendants.
+Accustomed to the generous hospitality of the present day, the reader
+may be surprised to learn that most of the citizens of old Jamestown
+entertained their guests from the country for a reasonable compensation;
+and so, when the gay cavalier from Stafford or Gloucester had passed a
+week among the gaieties or business of the metropolis,
+
+    He called for his horse and he asked for his way,
+    While the jolly old landlord cried “_Something_ to pay.”
+
+But when we reflect that Jamestown was the general resort of persons
+from all sections of the colony, and that the tavern accommodations were
+but small, we need not be surprised at a state of things so different
+from the glad and gratuitous welcome of our own day.
+
+Such, briefly and imperfectly described, was old Jamestown, the first
+capital of Virginia, as it appeared in 1676, to the little party of
+travellers, whose fortunes we have been following, as they rode into
+Stuart street, late in the evening of the day on which they left Windsor
+Hall. The arrival, as is usual in little villages, caused quite a
+sensation. The little knot of idlers that gathered about the porch of
+the only regular inn, desisted from whittling the store box, in the
+demolishing of which they had been busily engaged—and looked up with
+an impertinent stare at the new comers. Mine host bustled about as the
+carriage drove up before the door, and his jolly red face grew redder by
+his vociferous calls for servants. In obedience to his high behest, the
+servants came—the hostler, an imported cockney, to examine the points
+of the horses committed to his care, and to measure his provender by
+their real worth; the pretty Scotch chambermaid to conduct the ladies to
+their respective rooms, and a brisk and dapper little French barber to
+attack the colonel vehemently with a clothes-brush, as though he had
+hostile designs upon the good man's coat.
+
+Bernard, in the meantime, having promised to come for Virginia, and
+escort her to the famous birth-night ball, rode slowly towards the
+palace; now and then casting a haughty glance around him on those worthy
+gossips, who followed his fine form with their admiring eyes, and
+whispered among themselves that “Some folks was certainly born to luck;
+for look ye, Gaffer, there is a young fribble, come from the Lord knows
+where, and brought into the colony to be put over the heads of many
+worthier; and for all he holds his head so high, and sneers so mighty
+handsome with his lip, who knows what the lad may be. The great folk aye
+make a warm nest for their own bastards, and smooth the outside of the
+blanket as softly as the in, while honester folks must e'en rough it in
+frieze and Duffield. But na'theless, I say nothing, neighbor.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+    “There was a sound of revelry by night—
+      And Belgium's capital had gathered then
+    Her beauty and her chivalry; and bright
+      The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men;
+    A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
+      Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
+    Soft eyes looked love to eyes that spoke again,
+      And all went merry as a marriage bell.”
+                                      _Childe Harold._
+
+
+The ball at Sir William Berkeley's palace was of that character, which,
+in the fashionable world, is described as brilliant; and was long
+remembered by those who attended it, as the last scene of revelry that
+was ever known in Jamestown. The park or lawn which we have described
+was brilliantly illuminated with lamps and transparencies hung from the
+trees. The palace itself was a perfect blaze of light. The coaches of
+the cavaliers rolled in rapid succession around the circular path that
+led to the palace, and deposited their fair burdens, and then rolled
+rapidly away to await the breaking up of the ball. Young beaux, fairly
+glittering with gold embroidery, with their handsome doublets looped
+with the gayest ribbons, and their hair perfumed and oiled, and plaited
+at the sides in the most captivating love-knots; their cheeks
+beplastered with rouge, and their moustache carefully trimmed and
+brushed, passed gracefully to and fro, through the vast hall, and looked
+love to soft eyes that spake again. And those young eyes, how brightly
+did they beam, and how freshly did the young cheeks of their lovely
+owners blush, even above the rouge with which they were painted, as
+they met the admiring glance of some favored swain bent lovingly upon
+them! How graceful, too, the attitude which these fair maidens assumed,
+with their long trails sweeping and fairly carpetting the floor, or when
+held up by their tapering fingers, how proudly did they step, as they
+crossed the room to salute the stately and dignified, but now smiling
+Lady Frances Berkeley—and she the queenly centre of that vast throng,
+leaning upon the arm of her noble and venerable husband, with what grace
+and dignity she bowed her turbaned head in response to their
+salutations; and with what a majestic air of gratified vanity did she
+receive the courteous gratulations of the chivalrous cavaliers as they
+wished her many returns of the happy day, and hoped that the hours of
+her life would be marked by the lapse of diamond sands, while roses grew
+under her feet!
+
+Sir William Berkeley, of whose extraordinary character we know far more
+than of any of the earlier governors of Virginia, was now in the evening
+of his long and prosperous life. “For more than thirty years he had
+governed the most flourishing country the sun ever shone upon,”[25] and
+had won for himself golden opinions from all sorts of people. Happy for
+him, and happy for his fame, if he had passed away ere he had become
+“encompassed,” as he himself expresses it, “with rebellion, like
+waters.” To all he had endeared himself by his firmness of character and
+his suavity of manner. In 1659, he was called, by the spontaneous
+acclaim of the people of Virginia, to assume the high functions of the
+government, of which he had been deprived during the Protectorate, and,
+under his lead, Virginia was the first to throw off her allegiance to
+the Protector, and to declare herself the loyal realm of the banished
+Charles. Had William Berkeley died before the troublous scenes which now
+awaited him, and which have cast so dark a shadow upon his character,
+scarce any man in colonial history had left so pure a name, or been
+mourned by sincerer tears. Death is at last the seal of fame, and over
+the grave alone can we form a just estimate of human worth and human
+virtue.
+
+In person he was all that we delight to imagine in one who is truly
+great. Age itself had not bent his tall, majestic figure, which rose,
+like the form of the son of Kish, above all the people. His full black
+eye was clear and piercing, and yet was often softened by a benevolent
+expression. And this was the true nature of his heart, formed at once
+for softness and for rigour. His mouth, though frequently a pleasant
+smile played around it, expressed the inflexible firmness and decision
+of his character. No man to friends was more kind and gentle; no man to
+a foe was more relentless and vindictive. The only indication of
+approaching age was in the silver colour of his hair, which he did not
+conceal with the recently introduced periwig, and which, combed back to
+show to its full advantage his fine broad brow, fell in long silvery
+clusters over his shoulders.
+
+Around him were gathered the prominent statesmen of the colony, members
+of the Council and of the House of Burgesses, conversing on various
+subjects of political interest. Among those who chose this rational mode
+of entertainment was our old friend, Colonel Henry Temple, who met many
+an old colleague among the guests, and everywhere received the respect
+and attention which his sound sense, his sterling worth, and his former
+services so richly deserved.
+
+The Lady Frances, too, withdrawing her arm from that of her husband,
+engaged in elegant conversation with the elderly dames who sought her
+society; now conversing with easy dignity with the accomplished wives of
+the councillors; now, with high-bred refinement, overlooking the awkward
+blunders of some of the plainer matrons, whose husbands were in the
+Assembly; and now smiling good-humouredly at the old-fashioned vanity
+and assumed dignity of Mrs. Temple. The comparison of the present order
+of things with that to which she had been accustomed in her earlier
+days, formed, as usual, the chief theme of this good lady's discourse.
+But, to the attentive observer, the glance of pride with which from time
+to time she looked at her daughter, who, with graceful step and glowing
+cheek, was joining in the busy dance, plainly showed that, in some
+respects at least, Mrs. Temple had to acknowledge that the bright
+present had even eclipsed her favourite past.
+
+Yes, to the gay sound of music, amid the bright butterflies of fashion,
+who flew heartlessly through the mazes of the graceful dance, Virginia
+Temple moved—with them, but not of them. She had not forgotten
+Hansford, but she had forgotten self, and, determined to please her
+mother, she had sought to banish from her heart, for the time, the
+sorrow which was still there. She had come to the ball with Bernard, and
+he, seeing well the effort she had made, bent all the powers of his
+gifted mind to interest her thoughts, and beguile them from the
+absorbing subject of her grief. She attributed his efforts to a generous
+nature, and thanked him in her heart for thus devoting himself to her
+pleasure. She had attempted to return his kindness by an assumed
+cheerfulness, which gradually became real and natural, for shadows rest
+not long upon a young heart. They fly from the blooming garden of youth,
+and settle themselves amid the gloom and ruins of hoary age. And never
+had Alfred Bernard thought the fair girl more lovely, as, with just
+enough of pensive melancholy to soften and not to sadden her heart, she
+moved among the gay and thoughtless throng around her.
+
+The room next to the ball-room was appropriated to such of the guests as
+chose to engage in cards and dice; for in this, as in many other
+respects, the colony attempted to imitate the vices of the mother
+country. It is true the habit of gaming was not so recklessly
+extravagant as that which disgraced the corrupt court of Charles the
+Second, and yet the old planters were sufficiently bold in their risks,
+and many hundreds of pounds of tobacco often hung upon the turn of the
+dice-box or the pip[26] of a card. Seated around the old fashioned
+card-table of walnut, were sundry groups of those honest burgesses, who
+were ready enough in the discharge of their political functions in the
+state-house, but after the adjournment were fully prepared for all kinds
+of fun. Some were playing at gleek, and, to the uninitiated,
+incomprehensible was the jargon in which the players indulged. “Who'll
+buy the stock?” cries the dealer. “I bid five”—“and I ten”—“and I
+fifty.” Vie, revie, surrevie, capote, double capote, were the terms that
+rang through the room, as the excited gamesters, with anxious faces,
+sorted and examined their cards. At another table was primero, or
+thirty-one, a game very much resembling the more modern game of
+vingt-et-un; and here, too, loud oaths of “damn the luck,” escaped the
+lips of the betters, as, with twenty-two in their hands, they drew a
+ten, and burst with a pip too many. Others were moderate in their risks,
+rattled the dice at tra-trap, and playing for only an angel a game,
+smoked their pipes sociably together, and talked of the various measures
+before the Assembly.
+
+Thus the first hours of the evening passed rapidly away, when suddenly
+the sound of the rebecks[27] ceased in the ball-room, the gaming was
+arrested in an instant, and at the loud cry of hall-a-hall,[28] the
+whole company repaired to the long, broad porch, crowding and pushing
+each other, the unwary cavaliers treading on the long trains of the fair
+ladies, and receiving a well-merited frown for their carelessness. The
+object of this general rush was to see the masque, which was to be
+represented in the porch, illuminated and prepared for the purpose. At
+one end of the porch a stage was erected, with all the simple machinery
+which the ingenuity of the youth of Jamestown could devise, to aid in
+the representation—the whole concealed for the present from the view of
+the spectators by a green baize curtain.
+
+The object of the masque, imitated from the celebrated court masques of
+the seventeenth century, which reflected so much honour on rare Ben
+Jonson, and aided in establishing the early fame of John Milton, was to
+celebrate under a simple allegory the glories of the Restoration. Alfred
+Bernard, who had witnessed such a representation in England, first
+suggested the idea of thus honouring the birth-night of the Lady
+Frances, and the suggestion was eagerly taken hold of by the loyal young
+men of the little colonial capital, who rejoiced in any exhibition that
+might even faintly resemble the revels to which their loyal ancestors,
+before the revolution, were so ardently devoted.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[25] This is his own language.
+
+[26] Pip signified the spot on a card.
+
+[27] Fiddles.
+
+[28] The cry of the herald for silence at the beginning of the masque.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+    “Then help with your call
+    For a hall, a hall!
+    Stand up by the wall,
+    Both good-men and tall,
+    We are one man's all!”
+          _The Gipsey Metamorphosea._
+
+
+With the hope that a description of the sports and pastimes of their
+ancestors may meet with like favour from the reader, we subjoin the
+following account of this little masque which was prepared for the
+happy occasion by Alfred Bernard, aided by the grave chaplain, Arthur
+Hutchinson, and performed by some of the gay gallants and blooming
+damsels of old Jamestown. We flatly disclaim in the outset any
+participation in the resentment or contempt which was felt by these
+loyal Virginians towards the puritan patriots of the revolution.
+
+The curtain rises and discovers the genius of True Liberty, robed in
+white, with a wreath of myrtle around her brow; holding in her right
+hand a sceptre entwined with myrtle, as the emblem of peace, and in her
+left a sprig of evergreen, to represent the fabled Moly[29] of Ulysses.
+As she advances to slow and solemn music, she kneels at an altar clothed
+with black velvet, and raising her eyes to heaven, she exclaims:—
+
+    “How long, oh Heaven! shall power with impious hand
+    In cruel bondage bind proud Britain's land,
+    Or heresy in fair Religion's robe
+    Usurp her empire and control the globe!—
+    Hypocrisy in true Religion's name
+    Has filled the land of Britain long with shame,
+    And Freedom, captive, languishes in chains,
+    While with her sceptre, Superstition reigns.
+      Restore, oh Heaven! the reign of peace and love,
+    And let thy wisdom to thy people prove
+    That Freedom too is governed by her rules,—
+    No toy for children, and no game for fools;—
+    Freed from restraint the erring star would fly
+    Darkling, and guideless, through the untravelled sky—
+    The stubborn soil would still refuse to yield
+    The whitening harvest of the fertile field;
+    The wanton winds, when loosened from their caves,
+    Would drive the bark uncertain through the waves
+    This magnet lost, the sea, the air, the world,
+    To wild destruction would be swiftly hurled!
+    And say, just Heaven, oh say, is feeble man
+    Alone exempt from thy harmonious plan?
+    Shall he alone, in dusky darkness grope,
+    Free from restraint, and free, alas! from hope?
+    Slave to his passions, his unbridled will,
+    Slave to himself, and yet a freeman still?
+    No! teach him in his pride to own that he
+    Can only in obedience be free—
+    That even he can only safely move,
+    When true to loyalty, and true to love.”
+
+As she speaks, a bright star appears at the farther end of the stage,
+and ascending slowly, at length stands over the altar, where she kneels.
+Extending her arm towards the star, she rises and cries in triumph:—
+
+    “I hail the sign, pure as the starry gem,
+    Which rested o'er the babe of Bethlehem—
+    My prayer is heard, and Heaven's sublime decree
+    Will rend our chains, and Britain shall be free!”
+
+Then enters the embodiment of Puritanism, represented in the peculiar
+dress of the Roundheads—with peaked hat, a quaint black doublet and
+cloak, rigidly plain, and cut in the straight fashion of the sect; black
+Flemish breeches, and grey hose; huge square-toed shoes, tied with
+coarse leather thongs; and around the waist a buff leather belt, in
+which he wears a sword. He comes in singing, as he walks, one of the
+Puritan versions, or rather perversions of the Psalms, which have so
+grossly marred the exquisite beauty of the original, and of which one
+stanza will suffice the reader:—
+
+    “Arise, oh Lord, save me, my God,
+    For thou my foes hast stroke,
+    All on the cheek-bone, and the teeth
+    Of wicked men hast broke.”[30]
+
+Then standing at some distance from the altar, he rolls up his eyes,
+till nothing but the whites can be seen, and is exercised in prayer.
+With a smile of bitter contempt the genius of True Liberty proceeds:—
+
+    “See where he comes, with visage long and grim,
+    Whining with nasal twang his impious hymn!
+    See where he stands, nor bows the suppliant knee,
+    He apes the Publican, but acts the Pharisee—
+    Snatching the sword of just Jehovah's wrath,
+    And damning all who leave _his_ thorny path.
+      Now by this wand which Hermes, with a smile,
+    Gave to Ulysses in the Circean isle,
+    I will again exert the power divine,
+    And change to Britons these disgusting swine.”
+
+She waves the sprig of Moly over the head of the Puritan three or four
+times, who, sensible of the force of the charm, cries out:—
+
+    “Hah! what is this! strange feelings fill my heart;
+    Avaunt thee, tempter! I defy thy art—
+    Up, Israel! hasten to your tents, and smite
+    These sons of Belial, and th' Amalekite,—
+    Philistia is upon us with Goliah,
+    Come, call the roll from twelfth of Nehemiah,[31]
+    Gird up your loins and buckle on your sword,
+    Fight with your prayers, your powder, and the word.
+    How, General 'Faint-not,'[32] has your spirit sunk?
+    Let not God's soldier yield unto a Monk.”[33]
+
+Then, as the charm increases, he continues in a feebler voice:
+
+    “Curse on the tempter's art! that heathenish Moly
+    Has in an instant changed my nature wholly;
+    The past, with all its triumphs, is a trance,
+    My legs, once taught to kneel, incline to dance,
+    My voice, which to some holy psalm belongs,
+    Is twisting round into these carnal songs.
+    Alas! I'm lost! New thoughts my bosom swell;
+    Habakuk, Barebones, Cromwell, fare ye well.
+    Break up conventicles, I do insist,
+    Sing the doxology and be dismissed.”
+
+As he finishes the last line, the heavy roll of thunder is heard, and
+suddenly the doors of a dungeon in the background fly open, from which
+emerges the impersonation of Christmas, followed by the Queen of May.
+Christmas is represented by a jolly, round-bellied, red-nosed, laughing
+old fellow, dressed in pure white. His hair is thickly powdered, and his
+face red with rouge. In his right hand he holds a huge mince-pie, which
+ever and anon he gnaws with exquisite humour, and in his left is a bowl
+of generous wassail, from which he drinks long and deeply. His brows are
+twined with misletoe and ivy, woven together in a fantastic wreath, and
+to his hair and different parts of his dress are attached long pendants
+of glass, to represent icicles. As he advances to the right of the
+stage, there descends from the awning above an immense number of small
+fragments of white paper, substitutes for snow-flakes, with which that
+part of the floor is soon completely covered.
+
+The Queen of May takes her position on the left. She is dressed in a
+robe of pure white, festooned with flowers, with a garland of white
+roses twined with evergreen upon her brow. In her hand is held the
+May-pole, adorned with ribbons of white, and blue, and red, alternately
+wrapped around it, and surmounted with a wreath of various flowers. As
+she assumes her place, showers of roses descend from above, envelope her
+in their bloom, and shed a fresh fragrance around the room.
+
+The Genius of Liberty points out the approaching figures to the Puritan,
+and exclaims:
+
+    “Welcome, ye happy children of the earth,
+    Who strew life's weary way with guileless mirth!
+    Thus Joy should ever herald in the morn
+    On which the Saviour of the world was born,
+    And thus with rapture should we ever bring
+    Fresh flowers to twine around the brow of Spring.
+    Think not, stern mortal, God delights to scan,
+    With fiendish joy, the miseries of man;
+    Think not the groans that rend your bosom here
+    Are music to Jehovah's listening ear.
+    Formed by His power, the children of His love,
+    Man's happiness delights the Sire above;
+    While the light mirth which from his spirit springs
+    Ascends like incense to the King of kings.”
+
+Christmas, yawning and stretching himself, then roars out in a merry,
+lusty voice:
+
+    “My spirit rejoices to hear merry voices,
+      With a prospect of breaking my fast,
+    For with such a lean platter, these days they call latter[34]
+      Were very near being my last.
+
+    “In that cursed conventicle, as chill as an icicle,
+      I caught a bad cold in my head,
+    And some impudent vassal stole all of my wassail,
+      And left me small beer in its stead.
+
+    “Of all that is royal and all that is loyal
+      They made a nice mess of mince-meat.
+    With their guns and gunpowder, and their prayers that are louder,
+      But the de'il a mince-pie did I eat.
+
+    “No fat sirloin carving, I scarce kept from starving,
+      And my bones have become almost bare,
+    As if I were the season of the gunpowder treason,
+      To be hallowed with fasting and prayer.
+
+    “If they fancy pulse diet, like the Jews they may try it,
+      Though I think it is fit but to die on.
+    But may the Emanuel long keep this new Daniel
+      From the den of the brave British Lion.
+
+    “In the juice of the barley I'll drink to King Charley,
+      The bright star of royalty risen,
+    While merry maids laughing and honest men quaffing
+      Shall welcome old Christmas from prison.”
+
+As he thunders out the last stave of his song, the Queen of May steps
+forward, and sings the following welcome to Spring:
+
+    “Come with blooming cheek, Aurora,
+      Leading on the merry morn;
+    Come with rosy chaplets, Flora,
+      See, the baby Spring is born.
+
+    “Smile and sing each living creature,
+      Britons, join me in the strain;
+    Lo! the Spring is come to Nature,
+      Come to Albion's land again.
+
+    “Winter's chains of icy iron
+      Melt before the smile of Spring;
+    Cares that Albion's land environ
+      Fade before our rising king.
+
+    “Crown his brow with freshest flowers,
+      Weave the chaplet fair as May,
+    While the sands with golden hours
+      Speed his happy life away.
+
+    “Crown his brow with leaves of laurel,
+      Twined with myrtle's branch of peace—
+    A hero in fair Britain's quarrel,
+      A lover when her sorrows cease.
+
+    “Blessings on our royal master,
+      Till in death he lays him down,
+    Free from care and from disaster,
+      To assume a heavenly crown.”
+
+As she concludes her lay, she places the May-pole in the centre of the
+stage, and a happy throng of gay young swains and damsels enter and
+commence the main dance around it. The Puritan watches them at first
+with a wild gaze, in which horror is mingled with something of
+admiration. Gradually his stern features relax into a grim smile, and at
+last, unable longer to restrain his feelings, he bursts forth in a most
+immoderate and carnal laugh. His feet at first keep time to the gay
+music; he then begins to shuffle them grotesquely on the floor, and
+finally, overcome by the wild spirit of contagion, he unites in the
+dance to the sound of the merry rebecks. While the dance continues, he
+shakes off the straight-laced puritan dress which he had assumed, and
+tossing the peaked hat high in the air, appears, amid the deafening
+shouts of the delighted auditory, in the front of the stage in the rich
+costume of the English court, and with a royal diadem upon his brow, the
+mimic impersonation of Charles the Second.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[29] The intelligent reader, familiar with the Odyssey, need not to be
+reminded that with this wand of Moly, which Mercury presented to
+Ulysses, the Grecian hero was enabled to restore his unhappy companions,
+who, by the magic of the goddess Circe, had been transformed into swine.
+
+[30] A true copy from the records.
+
+[31] “Cromwell,” says an old writer, “hath beat up his drums clean
+through the Old Testament. You may learn the genealogy of our Saviour by
+the names of his regiment. The muster-master has no other list than the
+first chapter of St. Matthew.” If the Puritan sergeant had lost this
+roll, Nehemiah XII. would serve him instead.
+
+[32] The actual name of one of the Puritans.
+
+[33] General Monk, the restorer of royalty.
+
+[34] The Puritans believed the period of the revolution to be the latter
+days spoken of in prophecy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+     “I charge you, oh women! for the love you bear to men, to like as
+     much of this play as please you; and I charge you, oh men! for the
+     love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering, none of
+     you hate them,) that between you and the women the play may
+     please.”
+                                                     _As you Like It._
+
+     “There is the devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man;
+     a tun of man is thy companion.”
+                                                           _Henry IV._
+
+
+The good-natured guests at the Governor's awarded all due, and more than
+due merit to the masque which was prepared for their entertainment.
+Alfred Bernard became at once the hero of the evening, and many a bright
+eye glanced towards him, and envied the fair Virginia the exclusive
+attention which he paid to her. Some young cavaliers there were, whose
+envy carried them so far, that they sneered at the composition of the
+young poet; declared the speeches of Liberty to be prosy and tiresome;
+and that the song of Christmas was coarse, rugged, and devoid of wit;
+nay, they laughed at the unnatural transformation of the grim-visaged
+Puritan into the royal Charles, and referred sarcastically to the
+pretentious pedantry of the young author, in introducing the threadbare
+story of Ulysses and the Moly into a modern production—and at the
+inconsistent jumble of ancient mythology and pure Christianity. Bernard
+heard them not, and if he had, he would have scorned their strictures,
+instead of resenting them. But he was too much engrossed in conversation
+with Virginia to heed either the good-natured applause of his friends,
+or the peevish jealousy of his young rivals. Indeed, the loyalty of the
+piece amply atoned for all its imperfections, and the old colonists
+smiled and nodded their heads, delighted at the wholesome tone of
+sentiment which characterized the whole production.
+
+The character of Christmas was well sustained by Richard Presley,[35] a
+member of the House of Burgesses, whose jolly good humour, as broad
+sometimes as his portly stomach, fitted him in an eminent degree for the
+part. He was indeed one of those merry old wags, who, in an illustrated
+edition of Milton, might have appeared in L'Allegro, to represent the
+idea of “Laughter holding both his sides.”
+
+Seeing Sir William Berkeley and Colonel Temple engaged in earnest
+conversation, in one corner of the room, the old burgess bustled, or
+rather waddled up to them, and remaining quiet just long enough to hear
+the nature of their conversation chimed in, with,
+
+“Talking about Bacon, Governor? Why he is only imitating old St. Albans,
+and trying to establish a _novum organum_ in Virginia. By God, it seems
+to me that Sir Nicholas exhausted the whole of his _mediocria firma_
+policy, and left none of it to his kinsmen. Do you not know what he
+meant by that motto, Governor?”
+
+“No;” said Sir William, smiling blandly.
+
+“Well, I'll tell you, and add another wrinkle to your face. Mediocria
+firma, when applied to Bacon, means nothing more nor less than sound
+middlings. But I tell you what, this young mad-cap, Bacon, will have to
+adopt the motto of another namesake of his, and ancestor, perhaps, for
+friars aye regarded their tithes more favourably than their vows of
+virtue—and were fathers in the church as well by the first as the
+second birth.”
+
+“What ancestor do you allude to now, Dick?” asked the Governor.
+
+“Why, old Friar Bacon, who lamented that time was, time is, and time
+will be. And to my mind, when time shall cease with our young squealing
+porker here, we will e'en substitute hemp in its stead.”
+
+“Thou art a mad wag, Presley,” said the Governor, laughing, “and seem to
+have sharpened thy wit by strapping it on the Bible containing the whole
+Bacon genealogy. Come, Temple, let me introduce to your most favourable
+acquaintance, Major Richard Presley, the Falstaff of Virginia, with as
+big a paunch, and if not as merry a wit, at least as great a love for
+sack—aye, Presley?”
+
+“Yes, but indifferent honest, Governor, which I fear my great prototype
+was not,” replied the old wag, as he shook hands with Colonel Temple.
+
+“Well, I believe you can be trusted, Dick,” said the Governor, kindly,
+“and I may yet give you a regiment of foot to quell this modern young
+Hotspur of Virginia.”
+
+“Aye, that would be rare fun,” said Presley, with a merry laugh, “but
+look ye, I must take care to attack him in as favourable circumstances
+as the true Falstaff did, or 'sblood he might embowell me.”
+
+“I would like to own the tobacco that would be raised over your grave
+then, Dick,” said the Governor, laughing, “but never fear but I will
+supply you with a young Prince Hal, as merry, as wise, and as brave.”
+
+“Which is he, then? for I can't tell your true prince by instinct yet.”
+
+“There he stands talking to Miss Virginia Temple. You know him, Colonel
+Temple, and I trust that you have not found that my partiality has
+overrated his real merit.”
+
+“By no means,” returned Temple; “I never saw a young man with whom I was
+more pleased. He is at once so ingenuous and frank, and so intelligent
+and just in his views and opinions on all subjects—who is he, Sir
+William? One would judge, from his whole mien and appearance, that noble
+blood ran in his veins.”
+
+“I believe not,” replied Berkeley, “or if so, as old Presley would say,
+he was hatched in the nest where some noble eagle went a birding. I am
+indebted to my brother, Lord Berkeley, for both my chaplain and my
+private secretary. Good Parson Hutchinson seems to have been the
+guardian of Bernard in his youth, but what may be the real relation
+between them I am unable to say.”
+
+“Perhaps, like Major Presley's old Friar Bacon,” said Temple, “the good
+parson may have been guilty of some indiscretion in his youth, for which
+he would now atone by his kindness to the offspring of his early crime.”
+
+“Hardly so,” replied the Governor, “or he would probably acknowledge him
+openly as his son, without all this mystery. I have several times hinted
+at the subject to Mr. Hutchinson, but it seems to produce so much real
+sorrow, that I have never pushed my inquiries farther. All that I know
+is what I tell you, that my brother, in whose parish this Mr. Hutchinson
+long officiated as rector, recommended him to me—and the young man, who
+has been thoroughly educated by his patron, or guardian, by the same
+recommendation, has been made my private secretary.”
+
+“He is surely worthy to fill some higher post,” said Temple.
+
+“And he will not want my aid in building up his fortunes,” returned
+Berkeley; “but they have only been in the colony about six months as
+yet—and the young man has entwined himself about my heart like a son.
+My own bed, alas! is barren, as you know, and it seems that a kind
+providence had sent this young man here as a substitute for the
+offspring which has been denied to me. See Temple,” he added, in a
+whisper, “with what admiring eyes he regards your fair daughter. And if
+an old man may judge of such matters, it is with maiden modesty
+returned.”
+
+“I think that you are at fault,” said Temple, with a sigh; “my
+daughter's affections are entirely disengaged at present.”
+
+“Well, time will develope which of us is right. It would be a source of
+pride and pleasure, Harry, if I could live to see a union between this,
+my adopted boy, and the daughter of my early friend,” said the old
+Governor, as a tear glistened in his eye; “but come, Presley, the
+dancing has ceased for a time,” he added aloud, “favour the company with
+a song.”
+
+“Oh, damn it, Governor,” replied the old burgess, “my songs won't suit a
+lady's ear. They are intended for the rougher sex.”
+
+“Well, never fear,” said the Governor, “I will check you if I find you
+are overleaping the bounds of propriety.”
+
+“Very well, here goes then—a loyal ditty that I heard in old England,
+about five years agone, while I was there on a visit. Proclaim order,
+and join in the chorus as many as please.”
+
+And with a loud, clear, merry voice, the old burgess gave vent to the
+following, which he sung to the tune of the “Old and Young Courtier;” an
+air which has survived even to our own times, though adapted to the more
+modernized words, and somewhat altered measure of the “Old English
+Gentleman:”—
+
+    “Young Charley is a merry prince; he's come unto his own,
+    And long and merrily may he fill his martyred father's throne;
+    With merry laughter may he drown old Nolly's whining groan,
+    And when he dies bequeath his crown to royal flesh and bone.
+              Like a merry King of England,
+              And England's merry King.
+
+    “With bumpers full, to royal Charles, come fill the thirsty glasses,
+    The pride of every loyal heart, the idol of the masses;
+    Yet in the path of virtue fair, old Joseph far surpasses,
+    The merry prince, whose sparkling eye delights in winsome lasses.
+              Like a merry King of England,
+              And England's merry King.
+
+    “For Joseph from dame Potiphar, as holy men assert,
+    Leaving his garment in her hand, did naked fly unhurt;
+    But Charley, like an honest lad, will not a friend desert,
+    And so he still remains behind, nor leaves his only shirt.
+              Like a merry King of England,
+              And England's merry King.
+
+    “Then here's to bonny Charley, he is a prince divine,
+    He hates a Puritan as much as Jews detest a swine;
+    But, faith, he loves a shade too much his mistresses and wine,
+    Which makes me fear that he will not supply the royal line,
+              With a merry King of England,
+              And England's merry King.”
+
+The singer paused, and loud and rapturous was the applause which he
+received, until, putting up his hand in a deprecating manner, silence
+was again restored, and with an elaborate _impromptu_, which it had
+taken him about two hours that morning to spin from his old brain, he
+turned to Berkeley, and burst forth again.
+
+    “Nor let this mirror of the king by us remain unsung,
+    To whom the hopes of Englishmen in parlous times have clung:
+    Let Berkeley's praises still be heard from every loyal tongue,
+    While Bacon and his hoggish herd be cured, and then be hung.
+              Like young rebels of the King,
+              And the King's young rebels.”
+
+Various were the comments drawn forth by the last volunteer stanza of
+the old loyalist. With lowering looks, some of the guests conversed
+apart in whispers, for there were a good many in the Assembly, who,
+though not entirely approving the conduct of Bacon, were favourably
+disposed to his cause. Sir William Berkeley himself restrained his
+mirth out of respect for a venerable old man, who stood near him, and
+towards whom many eyes were turned in pity. This was old Nathaniel
+Bacon, the uncle of the young insurgent, and himself a member of the
+council. There were dark rumours afloat, that this old man had advised
+his nephew to break his parole and fly from Jamestown; but, although
+suspicion had attached to him, it could never be confirmed. Even those
+who credited the rumour rather respected the feelings of a near
+relative, in thus taking the part of his kinsman, than censured his
+conduct as savouring of rebellion.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[35] This jovial old colonist is referred to in the T. M. account of the
+Rebellion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+    “And first she pitched her voice to sing,
+    Then glanced her dark eye on the king,
+    And then around the silent ring,
+    And laughed, and blushed, and oft did say
+    Her pretty oath, by yea and nay,
+    She could not, would not, durst not play.”
+                                        _Marmion._
+
+
+“How did _you_ like Major Presley's song?” said Bernard to Virginia, as
+he leaned gracefully over her chair, and played carelessly with the
+young girl's fan.
+
+“Frankly, Mr. Bernard,” she replied, “not at all. There was only one
+thing which seemed to me appropriate in the exhibition.”
+
+“And what was that?”
+
+“The coarse language and sentiment of the song comported well with the
+singer.”
+
+“Oh, really, Miss Temple,” returned Bernard, “you are too harsh in your
+criticism. It is not fair to reduce the habits and manners of others to
+your own purer standard of excellence, any more than to censure the
+scanty dress of your friend Mamalis, which, however picturesque in
+itself, would scarcely become the person of one of these fair ladies
+here.”
+
+“And yet,” said Virginia, blushing crimson at the allusion, “there can
+be no other standard by which I at least can be governed, than that
+established by my own taste and judgment. You merely asked me _my_
+opinion of Major Presley's performance; others, it is true, may differ
+with me, but their decisions can scarcely affect my own.”
+
+“The fact that there is such a wide variance in the taste of
+individuals,” argued Bernard, “should, however, make us cautious of
+condemning that which may be sustained by the judgment of so many. Did
+you know, by the way, Miss Virginia, that 'habit' and 'custom' are
+essentially the same words as 'habit' and 'costume.' This fact—for the
+history of a nation may almost be read in the history of its
+language—should convince you that the manners and customs of a people
+are as changeable as the fashions of their dress.”
+
+“I grant you,” said Virginia, “that the mere manners of a people may
+change in many respects; but true taste, when founded on a true
+appreciation of right, can never change.”
+
+“Why, yes it can,” replied her companion, who delighted in bringing the
+young girl out, as he said, and plying her with specious sophisms.
+“Beauty, certainly, is an absolute and not a relative emotion, and yet
+what is more changeable than a taste in beauty. The Chinese bard will
+write a sonnet on the oblique eyes, flat nose and club feet of his
+saffron Amaryllis, while he would revolt with horror from the fair
+features of a British lassie. Old Uncle Giles will tell you that the
+negro of his Congo coast paints his Obi devil white, in order to inspire
+terror in the hearts of the wayward little Eboes. The wild Indians of
+Virginia dye their cheeks—”
+
+“Nay, there you will not find so great a difference between us,” said
+Virginia, interrupting him, as she pointed to the plastered rouge on
+Bernard's cheek. “But really, Mr. Bernard, you can scarcely be serious
+in an opinion so learnedly argued. You must acknowledge that right and
+wrong are absolute terms, and that a sense of them is inherent in our
+nature.”
+
+“Well then, seriously, my dear Miss Temple,” replied Bernard, “I do not
+see so much objection to the gay society of England, which is but a
+reflection from the mirror of the court of Charles the Second.”
+
+“When the mirror is stained or imperfect, Mr. Bernard, the image that it
+reflects must be distorted too. That society which breaks down the
+barriers that a refined sentiment has erected between the sexes, can
+never develope in its highest perfection the purity of the human heart.”
+
+“Well, I give up the argument,” said Bernard, “for where sentiment is
+alone concerned, there is no more powerful advocate than woman. But, my
+dear Miss Temple, you who have such a pure and correct taste on this
+subject, can surely illustrate your own idea by an example. Will you not
+sing? I know you can—your mother told me so.”
+
+“You must excuse me, Mr. Bernard; I would willingly oblige you, but I
+fear I could not trust my voice among so many strangers.”
+
+“You mistake your own powers,” urged Bernard. “There is nothing easier,
+believe me, after the first few notes of the voice, which sound
+strangely enough I confess, than for any one to recover self-possession
+entirely. I well remember the first time I attempted to speak before a
+large audience. When I arose to my feet, my knees trembled, and my lips
+actually felt heavy as lead. It seemed as though every drop of blood in
+my system rushed back to my heart. The vast crowd before me was nothing
+but an immense assemblage of eyes, all bent with the most burning power
+upon me; and when at length I opened my mouth, and first heard the tones
+of my own voice, it sounded strange and foreign to my ear. It seemed as
+though it was somebody else, myself and yet not myself, who was
+speaking; and my utterance was so choked and discordant, that I would
+have given worlds if I could draw back the words that escaped me. But
+after a half dozen sentences, I became perfectly composed and
+self-possessed, and cared no more for the gaping crowd than for the idle
+wind which I heed not. So it will be with your singing, but rest assured
+that the discord of your voice will only exist in your own fancy. Now
+will you oblige me?”
+
+“Indeed, Mr. Bernard, I cannot say that you have offered much
+inducement,” said Virginia, laughing at the young man's description of
+his forensic debut. “Nothing but the strongest sense of duty would impel
+me to pass through such an ordeal as that which you have described.
+Seriously you must excuse me. I cannot sing.”
+
+“Oh yes you can, my dear,” said her mother, who was standing near, and
+heard the latter part of the conversation. “What's the use of being so
+affected about it! You know you can sing, my dear—and I like to see
+young people obliging.”
+
+“That's right, Mrs. Temple,” said Bernard, “help me to urge my petition;
+I don't think Miss Virginia can be disobedient, even if it were in her
+power to be disobliging.”
+
+“The fact is, Mr. Bernard,” said the old lady, “that the young people of
+the present day require so much persuading, that its hardly worth the
+trouble to get them to do any thing.”
+
+“Well, mother, if you put it on that ground,” said Virginia, “I suppose
+I must waive my objections and oblige you.”
+
+So saying, she rose, and taking Bernard's arm, she seated herself at
+Lady Frances' splendid harp, which was sent from England as a present by
+her brother-in-law, Lord Berkeley. Drawing off her white gloves, and
+running her little tapering fingers over the strings, Virginia played a
+melancholy symphony, which accorded well with the sad words that came
+more sadly on the ear through the medium of her plaintive voice:—
+
+    “Fondly they loved, and her trusting heart
+      With the hopes of the future bounded,
+    Till the trumpet of Freedom condemned them to part,
+      And the knell of their happiness sounded.
+
+    “But his is a churl's and a traitor's choice,
+      Who, deaf to the call of duty,
+    Would linger, allured by a syren's voice,
+      On the Circean island of beauty.
+
+    “His country called! he had heard the sound,
+      And kissed the pale cheek of the maiden,
+    Then staunched with his blood his country's wound,
+      And ascended in glory to Aidenn.
+
+    “The shout of victory lulled him to sleep
+      The slumber that knows no dreaming,
+    But a martyr's reward he will proudly reap,
+      In the grateful tears of Freemen.
+
+    “And long shall the maidens remember her love,
+      And heroes shall dwell on his story;
+    She died in her constancy like the lone dove,
+      But he like an eagle in glory.
+
+    “Oh let the dark cypress mourn over her grave,
+      And light rest the green turf upon her;
+    While over his ashes the laurel shall wave,
+      For he sleeps in the proud bed of honour.”
+
+The reader need not be told that this simple little ballad derived new
+beauty from the feeling with which Virginia sang it. The remote
+connection of its story with her own love imparted additional sadness to
+her sweet voice, and as she dwelt on the last line, her eyes filled with
+tears and her voice trembled. Bernard marked the effect which had been
+produced, and a thrill of jealousy shot through his heart at seeing this
+new evidence of the young girl's constancy.
+
+But while he better understood her feelings than others around her, all
+admired the plaintive manner in which she had rendered the sentiment of
+the song, and attributed her emotion to her own refined appreciation and
+taste. Many were the compliments which were paid to the fair young
+minstrel by old and young; by simpering beaux and generous maidens. Sir
+William Berkeley, himself, gallantly kissed her cheek, and said that
+Lady Frances might well be jealous of so fair a rival; and added, that
+if he were only young again, Windsor Hall might be called upon to yield
+its fair inmate to adorn the palace of the Governor of Virginia.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+    “Give me more love or more disdain,
+      The torrid or the frozen zone;
+    Bring equal ease unto my pain,
+      The temperate affords me none;
+    Either extreme of love or hate,
+    Is sweeter than a calm estate.”—_Thomas Carew._
+
+
+While Virginia thus received the meed of merited applause at the hands
+of all who were truly generous, there were some then, as there are many
+now, in whose narrow and sterile hearts the success of another is ever a
+sufficient incentive to envy and depreciation. Among these was a young
+lady, who had hitherto been the especial favourite of Alfred Bernard,
+and to whom his attentions had been unremittingly paid. This young lady,
+Miss Matilda Bray, the daughter of one of the councillors, vented her
+spleen and jealousy in terms to the following purport, in a conversation
+with the amiable and accomplished Caroline Ballard.
+
+“Did you ever, Caroline, see any thing so forward as that Miss Temple?”
+
+“I am under a different impression,” replied her companion. “I was
+touched by the diffidence and modesty of her demeanor.”
+
+“I don't know what you call diffidence and modesty; screeching here at
+the top of her voice and drowning every body's conversation. Do you
+think, for instance, that you or I would presume to sing in as large a
+company as this—with every body gazing at us like a show.”
+
+“No, my dear Matilda, I don't think that we would. First, because no one
+would be mad enough to ask us; and, secondly, because if we did
+presume, every body would be stopping their ears, instead of admiring us
+with their eyes.”
+
+“Speak for yourself,” retorted Matilda. “I still hold to my opinion,
+that it was impertinent to be stopping other people's enjoyment to
+listen to her.”
+
+“On the contrary, I thought it a most welcome interruption, and I
+believe that most of the guests, as well as Sir William Berkeley,
+himself, concurred with me in opinion.”
+
+“Well, I never saw any body so spiteful as you've grown lately,
+Caroline. There's no standing you. I suppose you will say next that this
+country girl is beautiful too, with her cotton head and blue china
+eyes.”
+
+“I am a country girl myself, Matilda,” returned Caroline, “and as for
+the beauty of Miss Temple, whatever I may think, I believe that our
+friend, Mr. Bernard, is of that opinion.”
+
+“Oh, you needn't think, with your provoking laugh,” said Miss Bray,
+“that I care a fig for Mr. Bernard's attention to her.”
+
+“I didn't say so.”
+
+“No, but you thought so, and you know you did; and what's more, it's too
+bad that you should take such a delight in provoking me. I believe it's
+all jealousy at last.”
+
+“Jealousy, my dear Matilda,” said her companion, “is a jaundiced jade,
+that thinks every object is of its own yellow colour. But see, the dance
+is about to commence again, and here comes my partner. You must excuse
+me.” And with a smile of conscious beauty, Caroline Ballard gave her
+hand to the handsome young gallant who approached her.
+
+Bernard and Virginia, too, rose from their seats, but, to the surprise
+of Matilda Bray, they did not take their places in the dance, but walked
+towards the door. Bernard saw how his old flame was writhing with
+jealousy, and as he passed her he said, maliciously,
+
+“Good evening, Miss Matilda; I hope you are enjoying the ball.”
+
+“Oh, thank you, exceedingly,” said Miss Bray, patting her foot
+hysterically on the floor, and darting from her fine black eyes an angry
+glance, which gave the lie to her words.
+
+Leaving her to digest her spleen at her leisure, the handsome pair
+passed out of the ball-room and into the lawn. It was already thronged
+with merry, laughing young people, who, wearied with dancing, were
+promenading through the gravelled walks, or sitting on the rural
+benches, arranged under the spreading trees.
+
+“Oh, this is really refreshing,” said the young girl, as she smoothed
+back her tresses from her brow, to enjoy the delicious river breeze.
+“Those rooms were very oppressive.”
+
+“I scarcely found them so,” said Bernard, gallantly; “for when the mind
+is agreeably occupied we soon learn to forget any inconvenience to which
+the body may be subjected. But I knew you would enjoy a walk through
+this fine lawn.”
+
+“Oh, indeed I do; and truly, Mr. Bernard,” said the ingenuous girl, “I
+have much to thank you for. Nearly a stranger in Jamestown, you have
+made my time pass happily away, though I fear you have deprived yourself
+of the society of others far more agreeable.”
+
+“My dear Miss Temple, I will not disguise from you, even to retain your
+good opinion of my generosity, the fact that my attention has not been
+so disinterested as you suppose.”
+
+“I thank you, sir,” said Virginia, “for the compliment; but I am afraid
+that I have not been so agreeable, in return for your civility, as I
+should. You were witness to a scene, Mr. Bernard, which would make it
+useless to deny that I have much reason to be sad; and it makes me more
+unhappy to think that I may affect others by my gloom.”
+
+“I know to what you allude,” replied Bernard, “and believe me, fair
+girl, sweeter to me is this sorrow in your young heart, than all the
+gaudy glitter of those vain children of fashion whom we have left. But,
+alas! I myself have much cause to be sad—the future looms darkly before
+me, and I see but little left in life to make it long desirable.”
+
+“Oh, say not so,” said Virginia, moved by the air of deep melancholy
+which Bernard had assumed, but mistaking its cause. “You are young yet,
+and the future should be bright. You have talents, acquirements,
+everything to ensure success; and the patronage and counsel of Sir
+William Berkeley will guide you in the path to honourable distinction.
+Fear not, my friend, but trust hopefully in the future.”
+
+“There is one thing, alas!” said Bernard, in the same melancholy tone,
+“without which success itself would scarcely be desirable.”
+
+“And what is that?” said the young girl, artlessly. “Believe me, you
+will always find in me, Mr. Bernard, a warm friend, and a willing if not
+an able counsellor.”
+
+“But this is not all,” cried Bernard, passionately. “Does not your own
+heart tell you that there must be something more than friendship to
+satisfy the longings of a true heart? Oh, Virginia—yes, permit me to
+call you by a name now doubly dear to me, as the home of my adoption and
+as the object of my earnest love. Dearest Virginia, sweet though it be
+to the heart of a lonely orphan, drifting like a sailless vessel in this
+rugged world, to have such a friend, yet sweeter far would it be to live
+in the sunlight of your love.”
+
+“Mr. Bernard!” exclaimed Virginia, with unfeigned surprise.
+
+“Nay, dearest, do you, can you wonder at this revelation? I had striven,
+but in vain, to conceal a hope which I knew was too daring. Oh, do not
+by a word destroy the faint ray which has struggled so bravely in my
+heart.”
+
+“Mr. Bernard,” said Virginia, as she withdrew her arm from his, “I can
+no longer permit this. If your feelings be such as you profess, and as I
+believe they are—for I know your nature to be honorable—I regret that
+I can only respect a sentiment which I can never return.”
+
+“Oh, say not thus, my own Virginia, just as a new life begins to dawn
+upon me. At least be not so hasty in a sentence which seals my fate
+forever.”
+
+“I am not too hasty,” replied Virginia. “But I would think myself
+unworthy of the love you have expressed, if I held out hopes which can
+never be realized. You know my position is a peculiar one. My hand but
+not my heart is disengaged. Nor could you respect the love of a woman
+who could so soon forget one with whom she had promised to unite her
+destiny through life. I have spoken thus freely, Mr. Bernard, because I
+think it due to your feelings, and because I am assured that what I say
+is entrusted to an honourable man.”
+
+“Indeed, my dear Miss Temple, if such you can only be to me,” said her
+wily lover, “I do respect from my heart your constancy to your first
+love. That unwavering devotion to another, whom I esteem, because he is
+loved by you, only makes you more worthy to be won. May I not still hope
+that time may supply the niche, made vacant in your heart, by another
+whose whole life shall be devoted to the one object of making you
+happy?”
+
+“Mr. Bernard, candour compels me to say no, my friend; there are vows
+which even time, with its destroying hand can never erase, and which are
+rendered stronger and more sacred by the very circumstances which
+prevent their accomplishment. Fate, my friend, may interpose her stern
+decree and forever separate me from the presence of Mr. Hansford, but
+my heart is still unchangeably his. Ha! what is that?” she added, with a
+faint scream, as from the little summer-house, which we have before
+described, there came a deep, prolonged groan.
+
+As she spoke, and as Bernard laid his hand upon his sword to avenge
+himself upon the intruder, a dark figure issued from the door of the
+arbor, and stood before them. The young man stood appalled as he
+recognized by the uncertain light of a neighbouring lamp, the dark,
+swarthy features of Master Hutchinson, the chaplain of the Governor.
+
+“Put up your sword, young man,” said the preacher, gravely; “they who
+use the sword shall perish by the sword.”
+
+“In the devil's name,” cried Bernard, forgetful of the presence of
+Virginia, “how came you here?”
+
+“Not to act the spy at least,” said Hutchinson, “such is not my
+character. Suffice it to say, that I came as you did, to enjoy this
+fresh air—and sought the quiet of this arbour to be free from the
+intrusion of others. I have lived too long to care for the frivolities
+which I have heard, and your secret is safe in my breast—a repository
+of many a darker confidence than that.” With these words the bent form
+of the melancholy preacher passed out of their sight.
+
+“A singular man,” said Bernard, in a troubled voice, “but entirely
+innocent in his conduct. An abstracted book-worm, he moves through the
+world like a stranger in it. Will you return now?”
+
+“Thank you,” said Virginia, “most willingly—for I confess my nerves are
+a little unstrung by the fright I received. And now, my friend, pardon
+me for referring to what has passed, but you will still be my friend,
+won't you?”
+
+“Oh, certainly,” said Bernard, in an abstracted manner. “I wonder,” he
+muttered “what he could have meant by that hideous groan?”
+
+And sadly and silently the rejected lover and his unhappy companion
+returned to the heartless throng, who still lit up the palace with their
+hollow smiles.
+
+Alike the joyous dance, the light mirth, and the splendid entertainment
+passed unheeded by Virginia, as she sat silently abstracted, and
+returned indifferent answers to the questions which were asked her. And
+Bernard, the gay and fascinating Bernard, wandered through the crowd,
+like a troubled spectre, and ever and anon muttered to himself, “I
+wonder what he could have meant by that hideous groan?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+    “His heart has not half uttered itself yet,
+    And much remains to do as well as they.
+    The heart is sometime ere it finds its focus,
+    And when it does with the whole light of nature
+    Strained through it to a hair's breadth, it but burns
+    The things beneath it which it lights to death.”
+                                                    _Festus._
+
+
+And now the ball is over. Mothers wait impatiently for their fair
+daughters, who are having those many last words so delightful to them,
+and so provoking to those who await their departure. Carriages again
+drive to the door, and receive their laughing, bright-eyed burdens, and
+then roll away through the green lawn, while the lamps throw their
+broad, dark shadows on the grass. Gay young cavaliers, who have come
+from a distance to the ball, exchange their slippers for their heavy
+riding-boots and spurs, and mount their pawing and impatient steeds.
+Sober-sided old statesmen walk away arm-in-arm, and discuss earnestly
+the business of the morrow. The gamesters and dicers depart, some with
+cheerful smiles, chuckling over their gains, and others with empty
+pockets, complaining how early the party had broken up, and proposing a
+renewal of the game the next night at the Blue Chamber at the Garter
+Inn. Old Presley has evidently, to use his own phrase, “got his load,”
+and waddling away to his quarters, he winks his eye mischievously at the
+lamps, which, under the multiplying power of his optics, have become
+more in number than the stars. Thus the guests all pass away, and the
+lights which flit for a few moments from casement to casement in the
+palace, are one by one extinguished, and all is dark, save where one
+faint candle gleams through an upper window and betrays the watchfulness
+of the old chaplain.
+
+And who is he, with his dark, melancholy eyes, which tell so plainly of
+the chastened heart—he who seeming so gentle and kind to all, reserves
+his sternness for himself alone—and who, living in love with all God's
+creatures, seems to hate with bitterness his own nature? It was not then
+as it is sometimes now, that every man's antecedents were inquired into
+and known, and that the young coxcomb, who disgraces the name that he
+bears and the lineage of which he boasts, is awarded a higher station in
+society than the self-sustaining and worthy son of toil, who builds his
+reputation on the firmer foundation of substantial worth. Every ship
+brought new emigrants from England, who had come to share the fate and
+to develope the destiny of the new colony, and who immediately assumed
+the position in society to which their own merit entitled them. And thus
+it was, that when Arthur Hutchinson came to Virginia, no one asked,
+though many wondered, what had blighted his heart, and cast so dark a
+shadow on his path. There was one man in the colony, and one alone, who
+had known him before—and yet Alfred Bernard, with whom he had come to
+Virginia, seemed to know little more of his history and his character
+than those to whom he was an entire stranger.
+
+Arthur Hutchinson was in appearance about fifty years of age. His long
+hair, which had once been black as the raven's wing, but was now thickly
+sprinkled with grey, fell profusely over his stooping shoulders. There
+was that, too, in the deep furrows on his broad brow, and in the
+expression of his pale thin lips which told that time and sorrow had
+laid their heavy hands upon him. As has been before remarked, by the
+recommendation of Lord Berkeley, which had great weight with his
+brother, Hutchinson had been installed as Chaplain to Sir William, and
+through his influence with the vestry, presented to the church in
+Jamestown. Although, with his own private resources, the scanty
+provision of sixteen thousand pounds of tobacco per annum, (rated at
+about eighty pounds sterling,) was ample for his comfortable support,
+yet good Master Hutchinson had found it very convenient to accept Sir
+William Berkeley's invitation to make his home at the palace. Here,
+surrounded by his books, which he regarded more as cheerful companions,
+than as grim instructors, he passed his life rather in inoffensive
+meditation than in active usefulness. The sad and quiet reserve of his
+manners, which seemed to spring from the memory of some past sorrow,
+that while it had ceased to give pain, was still having its silent
+effect upon its victim, made him the object of pity to all around him.
+The fervid eloquence and earnestness of his sermons carried conviction
+to the minds of the doubting, arrested the attention of the thoughtless
+and the wayward, and administered the balm of consolation to the
+afflicted child of sorrow. The mysterious influence which he exerted
+over the proud spirit of Alfred Bernard, even by one reproving glance
+from those big, black, melancholy eyes, struck all who knew them with
+astonishment. He took but little interest in the political condition of
+the colony, or in the state of society around him, and while, by this
+estrangement, and his secluded life, he made but few warm friends, he
+made no enemies. The good people of the parish were content to let the
+parson pursue his own quiet life undisturbed, and he lost none of their
+respect, while he gained much of their regard by his refusal to make the
+influence of the church the weapon of political warfare.
+
+Hutchinson, who had retired to his room some time before the guests had
+separated, was quietly reading from one of the old fathers, when his
+attention was arrested by a low tap at the door, which he at once
+recognized as Bernard's. At the intimation to come in, the young man
+entered, and throwing himself into a chair, he rested his face upon his
+hand, and sighed deeply.
+
+“Alfred,” said the preacher, after watching him for a moment in silence,
+“I am glad you have come. I have somewhat to say to you.”
+
+“Well, sir, I will hear you patiently. What would you say?”
+
+“I would warn you against letting a young girl divert you from the
+pursuit of higher objects than are to be attained by love.”
+
+“How, sir?” exclaimed Bernard, with surprise.
+
+“Alfred Bernard, look at me. Read in this pale withered visage, these
+sunken cheeks, this bent form, and this broken heart, the brief summary
+of a history which cannot yet be fully known. You have seen and known
+that I am not as other men—that I walk through the world a stranger
+here, and that my home is in the dark dungeon of my own bitter thoughts.
+Would you know what has thus severed the chain which bound me to the
+world? Would you know what it is that has blighted a heart which might
+have borne rich fruit, and turned it to ashes? Would you know what is
+the vulture, too cruel to destroy, which feeds upon this doomed form?”
+
+“In God's name, Mr. Hutchinson, why do you speak thus wildly?” said
+Bernard, for he had never before heard such language fall from the lips
+of the reserved and quiet preacher. “I know that you have had your
+sorrows, for the foot-prints of sorrow are indeed on you, but I have
+often admired the stoical philosophy with which you have borne the
+burden of care.”
+
+“Stoical philosophy!” exclaimed the preacher, pressing his hand to his
+heart. “The name that the world has given to the fire which burns here,
+and whose flame is never seen. Think you the pain is less, because all
+the heat is concentrated in the heart, not fanned into a flame by the
+breath of words?”
+
+“Well, call it what you will,” said Bernard, “and suffer as you will,
+but why reserve until to-night a revelation which you have so long
+refused to make?”
+
+“Simply because to-night I have seen and heard that which induces me to
+warn you from the course that you are pursuing. Young man, beware how
+you seek your happiness in a woman's smile.”
+
+“You must excuse me, my old friend,” said Bernard, smiling, “if I remind
+you of an old adage which teaches us that a burnt child dreads the fire.
+If trees were sentient, would you have them to fly from the generous
+rain of heaven, by which they grow, and live, and bloom, because,
+forsooth, one had been blasted by the lightning of the storm?”
+
+Hutchinson only replied with a melancholy shake of the head, and the two
+men gazed at each other in silence. Bernard, with all his sagacity and
+knowledge of human nature, in vain attempted to read the secret thoughts
+of his old guardian, whose dark eyes, lit up for a moment with
+excitement, had now subsided into the pensive melancholy which we have
+more than once remarked. The affectionate solicitude with which he had
+ever treated him, prevented Bernard from being offended at his freedom,
+and yet, with a vexed heart, he vainly strove to solve a mystery which
+thus seemed to surround Virginia and himself, who, until a few days
+before, had been entire strangers to each other.
+
+“Alfred Bernard,” said the old man at length, with his sweet gentle
+voice, “do you remember your father? You are very like him.”
+
+“How can you ask me such a question, when you yourself have told me so
+often that I never saw him.”
+
+“True, I had forgotten,” returned Hutchinson, with a sigh, “but your
+mother you remember?”
+
+“Oh yes,” said the young man, with a tear starting in his eye, “I can
+never forget her sad, pensive countenance. I have been a wild, bad man,
+Mr. Hutchinson, but often in my darkest hours, the memory of my mother
+would come over me, as though her spirit, like a dove, was descending
+from her place in heaven to watch over her boy. Alas! I feel that if I
+had followed the precepts which she taught me, I would now be a better
+and a happier man.”
+
+No heart is formed entirely hard; there are moments and memories which
+melt the most obdurate heart, as the wand of the prophet smote water
+from the rock. And Alfred Bernard, with all his cold scepticism and
+selfish nature, was for a moment sincerely repentant.
+
+“I have often thought, Mr. Hutchinson,” he continued, “that if it had
+pleased heaven to give me some near relative on earth, around whom my
+heart could delight to cling, I would have been a better man. Some kind
+brother who could aid and sympathize with me in my struggle with the
+world, or some gentle sister, in whose love I could confide, and to
+whose sweet society I might repair from the bitter trials of this rugged
+life; if these had been vouchsafed me, my heart would have expanded into
+more sympathy with my race than it can ever now feel.”
+
+Hutchinson smiled sadly, and replied—
+
+“It has been my object in life, Alfred Bernard, to supply the place of
+those nearer and dearer objects of affection which have been denied you.
+I hope in this I have not been unsuccessful.”
+
+“I am aware, Mr. Hutchinson,” said Bernard, bitterly, “that to you I am
+indebted for my education and support. I hope I have ever manifested a
+becoming sense of gratitude, and I only regret that in this alone am I
+able to repay you.”
+
+“And do you think that I wished to remind you of your dependence,
+Alfred? Oh, no—you owe me nothing. I have discharged towards you a
+solemn, a sacred duty, which you had a right to claim. I took you, a
+little homeless orphan, and sought to cultivate your mind and train your
+heart. In the first you have done more than justice to my tuition and my
+care. I am proud of the plant that I have reared. But how have you
+repaid me? You have imbibed sentiments and opinions abhorrent to all
+just and moral men. You have slighted my advice, and at times have even
+threatened the adviser.”
+
+“If you refer to the difference in our faith,” said Bernard, “you must
+remember that it was from your teachings that I derived the warrant to
+follow the dictates of my conscience and my reason. If they have led me
+into error, you must charge it upon these monitors which God has given
+me. You cannot censure me.”
+
+“I confess I am to blame,” said the good old man, with a sigh. “But who
+could have thought, that when, with my hard earnings, I had saved enough
+to send you to France, in order to give you a more extensive
+acquaintance with the world you were about to enter—who would have
+thought that it would result in your imbibing such errors as these! Oh,
+my son, what freedom of conscience is there in a faith like papacy,
+which binds your reason to the will of another? And what purity can
+there be in a religion which you dare not avow?”
+
+“Naaman bowed in the house of Rimmon,” returned Bernard, carelessly,
+“and if the prophet forgave him for thus following the customs of his
+nation, that he might retain a profitable and dignified position, I
+surely may be forgiven, under a milder dispensation, for suppressing my
+real sentiments in order to secure office and preferment.”
+
+“Alas!” murmured Hutchinson, bitterly. “Well, it is a sentiment worthy
+of Edward's son. But go, my poor boy, proud in your reason, which but
+leads you astray—wresting scripture in order to justify hypocrisy, and
+profaning religion with vice. You shall not yet want my prayers that you
+may be redeemed from error.”
+
+“Well, good night,” said Bernard, as he opened the door. “But do me the
+justice to say, that though I may be deceitful, I can never be
+ungrateful, nor can I forget your kindness to a desolate orphan.” And so
+saying, he closed the door, and left the old chaplain to the solitude of
+his own stricken heart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+    “Oh, tiger's heart, wrapt in a woman's hide.”
+                                            _Henry VI._
+
+
+Brightly shone the sun through the window of the Garter Inn, at which
+Virginia Temple sat on the morning after the ball at Sir William
+Berkeley's palace. Freed from the restraints of society, she gave her
+caged thoughts their freedom, and they flew with delight to Hansford.
+She reproved herself for the appearance of gaiety which she had assumed,
+while he was in so much danger; and she inwardly resolved that, not even
+to please her mother, would she be guilty again of such hypocrisy. She
+felt that she owed it to Hansford, to herself, and to others, to act
+thus. To Hansford, because his long and passionate love, and his
+unstained name, deserved a sacrifice of the world and its joys to him.
+To herself, because sad as were her reflections on the past, and fearful
+as were her apprehensions for the future, there was still a melancholy
+pleasure in dwelling on the memory of her love—far sweeter to her
+wounded heart than all the giddy gaiety of the world around her. And to
+others, because, but for her assumed cheerfulness, the feelings of
+Alfred Bernard, her generous and gifted friend, would have been spared
+the sore trial to which they had been subjected the night before. She
+was determined that another noble soul should not make shipwreck of its
+happiness, by anchoring its hopes on her own broken heart.
+
+Such were her thoughts, as she leaned her head upon her hand and gazed
+out of the window at the throng of people who were hurrying toward the
+state-house. For this was to be a great day in legislation. The Indian
+Bill was to be up in committee, and the discussion would be an able
+one, in which the most prominent members of the Assembly were to take
+part. She had seen the Governor's carriage, with its gold and trappings,
+the Berkeley coat-of-arms, and its six richly caparisoned white horses,
+roll splendidly by, with an escort of guards, by which Sir William was
+on public occasions always attended. She had seen the Burgesses, with
+their reports, their petitions and their bills, some conversing
+carelessly and merrily as they passed, and others with thoughtful
+countenance bent upon the ground, cogitating on some favourite scheme
+for extricating the colony from its dangers. She had seen Alfred Bernard
+pass on his favourite horse, and he had turned his eyes to the window
+and gracefully saluted her; but in that brief moment she saw that the
+scenes through which he had passed the night before were still in his
+memory, and had made a deep impression on his heart. On the plea of a
+sick head-ache, she had declined to go with her mother to the “House,”
+and the good old lady had gone alone with her husband, deploring, as she
+went, the little interest which the young people of the present day took
+in the politics and prosperity of their country.
+
+While thus silently absorbed in her own thoughts, the attention of
+Virginia Temple was arrested by the door of her room being opened, and
+on looking up, she saw before her the tall figure of a strange, wild
+looking woman, whom she had never seen before. This woman, despite the
+warmth of the weather, was wrapped in a coarse red shawl, which gave a
+striking and picturesque effect to her singular appearance. Her features
+were prominent and regular, and the face might have been considered
+handsome if it were not for the exceeding coarseness of her swarthy
+skin. Her jet-black hair, not even confined by a comb, was secured by a
+black riband behind, and passing over the right shoulder, fell in a
+heavy mass over her bosom. Her figure was tall and straight as an
+Indian's, and her bare brawny arms, which escaped from under her shawl,
+gave indications of great physical strength; while there was that in the
+expression of her fierce black eye, and her finely formed mouth, which
+showed that there was no mere woman's heart in that masculine form.
+
+The wild appearance and attire of the woman inspired Virginia with
+terror at first, but she suppressed the scream which rose to her lips,
+and in an agitated voice, she asked,
+
+“What would you have with me, madam?”
+
+“What are you frightened at, girl,” said the woman in a shrill, coarse
+voice, “don't you see that I am a woman?”
+
+“Yes, ma'am,” said Virginia, trembling, “I am not frightened, ma'am.”
+
+“You are frightened—I see you are,” returned her strange guest.—“But
+if you fear, you are not worthy to be the wife of a brave man—come,
+deny nothing—I can read you like a book—and easier, for it is but
+little that I know from books, except my Bible.”
+
+“Are you a gipsey, ma'am?” said Virginia, softly, for she had heard her
+father speak of that singular race of vagrants, and the person and
+language of the stranger corresponded with the idea which she had formed
+of them.
+
+“A gipsey! no, I am a Virginian—and a brave man's wife, as you would
+be—but that prejudice and fear keep you still in Egyptian bondage. The
+time has come for woman to act her part in the world—and for you,
+Virginia Temple, to act yours.”
+
+“But what would you have me to do?” asked Virginia, surprised at the
+knowledge which the stranger seemed to possess of her history.
+
+“Do!” shrieked the woman, “your duty—that which every human creature,
+man or woman, is bound before high heaven to do. Aid in the great work
+which God this day calls upon his Israel to do—to redeem his people
+from captivity and from the hand of those who smite us.”
+
+“My good woman,” said Virginia, who now began to understand the
+character of the strange intruder, “it is not for me, may I add, it is
+not for our sex to mingle in contests like the present. We can but
+humbly pray that He who controls the affairs of this world, may direct
+in virtue and in wisdom, the hearts of both rulers and people.”
+
+“And why should we only pray,” said the woman sternly, “when did Heaven
+ever answer prayer, except when our own actions carried the prayer into
+effect. Have you not learned, have you not known, hath it not been told
+you from the foundation of the world, that faith without works was
+dead.”
+
+“But there is no part which a woman can consistently take in such a
+contest as the present, even should she so far forget her true duties as
+to wish to engage in it.”
+
+“Girl, have you read your bible, or are you one of those children of the
+scarlet woman of Babylon, to whom the word of God is a closed book—to
+whom the waters from the fountain of truth can only come through the
+polluted lips of priests—as unclean birds feed their offspring. Do you
+not know that it was a woman, even Rahab, who saved the spies sent out
+from Shittem to view the land of promise? Do you not know that Miriam
+joined with the hosts of Israel in the triumph of their deliverance from
+the hand of Pharaoh? Do you not know that Deborah, the wife of Lapidoth,
+judged Israel, and delivered Jacob from the hands of Jabin, king of
+Canaan, and Sisera the captain of his host—and did not Jael, the wife
+of Heber the Kenite, rescue Israel from the hands of Sisera? Surely she
+fastened the nail in a sure place, and the wife of Sisera, tarried long
+ere his chariot should come—and shall we in these latter days of Israel
+be less bold than they? Tell me not of prayers, Virginia Temple, cowards
+alone pray blindly for assistance. It is the will of God that the brave
+should be often under Heaven, the answerers of their own prayers.”
+
+“And pray tell me,” said Virginia, struck with the wild, biblical
+eloquence of the Puritan woman, “why you have thus come to me among so
+many of the damsels of Virginia, to urge me to engage in this
+enterprise.”
+
+“Because I was sent. Because one of the captains of our host has sought
+the hand of Virginia Temple. Ah, blush, maiden, for the blush of shame
+well becomes one who has deserted her lover, because he has laid aside
+every weight, and pressed forward to the prize of his high calling. Yet
+a little while, and the brave men of Virginia will be here to show the
+malignant Berkeley, that the servant is not greater than his lord—that
+they who reared up this temple of his authority, can rase it to the
+ground and bury him in its ruins. I come from Thomas Hansford, to ask
+that you will under my guidance meet him where I shall appoint
+to-night.”
+
+“This is most strange conduct on his part,” said Virginia, flushing with
+indignation, “nor will I believe him guilty of it. Why did he entrust a
+message like this to you instead of writing?”
+
+“A warrior writes with his sword and in blood,” replied the woman.
+“Think you that they who wander in the wilderness, are provided with pen
+or ink to write soft words of love to silly maidens? But he foresaw that
+you would refuse, and he gave me a token—I fear a couplet from a carnal
+song.”
+
+“What is it?” cried Virginia, anxiously.
+
+    “'I had not loved thee, dear, so much,
+    Loved I not honour more,'”
+
+said the woman, in a low voice. “Thus the words run in my memory.”
+
+“And it is indeed a true token,” said Virginia, “but once for all, I
+cannot consent to this singular request.”
+
+“Decide not in haste, lest you repent at leisure,” returned the woman,
+“I will come to-night at ten o'clock to receive your final answer. And
+regret not, Virginia Temple, that your fate is thus linked with a brave
+man. The babe unborn will yet bless the rising in this country—and
+children shall rise up and call us blest.[36] And, oh! as you would
+prove worthy of him who loves you, abide not thou like Reuben among the
+sheep-folds to hear the bleating of the flocks, and you will yet live to
+rejoice that you have turned a willing ear to the words and the counsel
+of Sarah Drummond.”
+
+There was a pause of some moments, during which Virginia was wrapt in
+her own reflections concerning the singular message of Hansford,
+rendered even more singular by the character and appearance of the
+messenger. Suddenly she was startled from her reverie by the blast of a
+trumpet, and the distant trampling of horses' hoofs. Sarah Drummond also
+started at the sound, but not from the same cause, for she heard in that
+sound the blast of defiance—the trumpet of freedom, as its champions
+advanced to the charge.
+
+“They come, they come,” she said, in her wild, shrill voice; “my Lord,
+my Lord, the chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof—I go, like
+Miriam of old, to prophecy in their cause, and to swell their triumph.
+Farewell. Remember, at ten o'clock to-night I return for your final
+answer.”
+
+With these words she burst from the room, and Virginia soon seen her
+tall form, with hasty strides, moving toward the place from which the
+sound proceeded.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[36] This was her very language during the rebellion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+            “Men, high minded men,
+    With powers as far above dull brutes endued,
+            In forest, brake or den,
+    As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude;
+            Men, who their duties know,
+    But know their rights, and knowing dare maintain,
+            These constitute a state.”
+                                _Sir William Jones._
+
+
+And nearer, and nearer, came the sound, and the cloud of dust which
+already rose in the street, announced their near approach. And then,
+Virginia saw emerging from that cloud a proud figure, mounted on a
+splendid grey charger, which pranced and champed his bit, as though
+proud of the noble burden which he bore. And well he might be proud, for
+that young gallant rider was Nathaniel Bacon, a man who has left his
+name upon his country's history, despite the efforts to defame him, as
+the very embodiment of the spirit of freedom. And he looked every inch a
+hero, as with kingly mien and gallant bearing he rode through that
+crowded street, the great centre of attraction to all.
+
+Beside him and around him were those, his friends and his companions,
+who had sworn to share his success, or to perish in the attempt.
+
+There was the burley Richard Lawrence, not yet bent under the weight of
+his growing years. There was Carver, the bold, intrepid and faithful
+Carver, whose fidelity yet lives historically in his rough, home-brewed
+answer to the Governor, that “if he served the devil he would be true to
+his trust.” There too was the young and graceful form of one whose name
+has been honoured by history, and cherished by his descendants—whose
+rising glory has indeed been eclipsed by others of his name more
+successful, but not more worthy of success—nor can that long, pure
+cavalier lineage boast a nobler ancestor than the high-souled,
+chivalrous, and devoted Giles Bland. There too were Ingram, and
+Walklate, and Wilford, and Farloe, and Cheesman, and a host of others,
+whom time would fail us to mention, and yet, each one of whom, a pioneer
+in freedom's cause, deserves to be freshly remembered. And there too,
+and the heart of Virginia Temple beat loud and quick as she beheld him,
+was the gallant Hansford, whom she loved so well; and as she gazed upon
+his noble figure, now foremost in rebellion, the old love came back
+gushing into her heart, and she half forgave his grievous sin, and loved
+him as before.
+
+These all passed on, and the well-regulated band of four hundred
+foot-soldiers, all armed and disciplined for action, followed on, ready
+and anxious to obey their noble leader, even unto death. Among these
+were many, who, through their lives had been known as loyalists, who
+upheld the councils of the colony in their long resistance to the
+usurpation of the Protector, and who hailed the restoration of their
+king as a personal triumph to each and all. There too were those who had
+admired Cromwell, and sustained his government, and some few grey-headed
+veterans who even remembered to have fought under the banner of John
+Hampden—Cavaliers and Roundheads, Episcopalians and Dissenters; old
+men, who had heretofore passed through life regardless of the forms of
+government under which they lived; and young men, whose ardent hearts
+burned high with the spirit of liberty—all these discordant elements
+had been united in the alembic of freedom, and hand-in-hand, and
+heart-in-heart, were preparing for the struggle. And Virginia Temple
+thought, as she gazed from the window upon their manly forms, that after
+all, rebellion was not confined to the ignoble and the base.
+
+On, on, still on, and now they have reached the gate which is the grand
+entrance to the state-house square. The crowd of eager citizens throng
+after them, and with the fickle sympathy of the mob unite in loud shouts
+of “Long live Bacon, the Champion of Freedom.” And now they are drawn up
+in bristling column before the hall of the assembly, while the windows
+are crowded thick with the pale, anxious faces of the astounded
+burgesses. But see! the leaders dismount, and their horses are given in
+charge to certain of the soldiers. Conspicuous among them all is
+Nathaniel Bacon, from his proud and imperial bearing as he walks with
+impatient steps up and down the line, and reads their resolution in the
+faces of the men.
+
+“What will he do!” is whispered from the white and agitated lips of the
+trembling burgesses.
+
+“This comes of the faithless conduct of Berkeley,” says one.
+
+“Yes; I always said that Bacon should have his commission,” says
+another.
+
+“It is downright murder to deny him the right to save the colony from
+the savages,” says a third.
+
+“And we must suffer for the offences of a despotic old dotard,” said the
+first speaker.
+
+“Say you so, masters,” cried out old Presley, wedging his huge form
+between two of his brethren at the window—and all his loyalty of the
+preceding night having oozed out at his fingers' ends, like Bob Acres'
+courage, at the first approach of danger—“say you so; then, by God, it
+is my advice to let him put out the fire of his own raising.”
+
+But see there! Bacon and his staff are conferring together. It will soon
+be known what is his determination. It is already read in his fierce and
+angry countenance as he draws his sword half way from its scabbard, and
+frowns upon the milder councils of Hansford and Bland. Presently a
+servant of one of the members comes in with pale, affrighted looks, and
+whispers to his master. He has overheard the words of Bacon, which
+attended that ominous gesture.
+
+“I will bear a little while. But when you see my sword drawn from my
+scabbard, thus, let that be the signal for attack. Then strike for
+freedom, for truth, and for justice.”
+
+The burgesses look in wild alarm at each other. What is to be done? It
+were vain to resist. They are unarmed. The rebels more than quadruple
+Governor, Council, and Assembly. Let those suffer who have incurred the
+wrath of freemen. Let the lightning fall upon him who has called it
+down. For ourselves, let us make peace.
+
+In a moment a white handkerchief suspended on the usher's rod streams
+from the window, an emblem of peace, an advocate for mercy, and with one
+accordant shout, which rings through the halls of the state-house, the
+burgesses declare that he shall have his commission.
+
+Bacon sees the emblem. He hears the shout. His dark eye flashes with
+delight as he hails this bloodless victory over the most formidable
+department of the government. The executive dare not hold out against
+the will of the Assembly. But the victory is not yet consummated.
+
+Suddenly from the lips of the excited soldiery comes a wild cry, and
+following the direction of their eyes, he sees Sir William Berkeley
+standing at the open window of the Council Chamber. Yes, there stands
+the proud old man, with form erect and noble—his face somewhat paler,
+and his eagle eye somewhat brighter than usual. But these are the only
+signs he gives of emotion, as he looks down upon that hostile crowd,
+with a smile of bitter scorn encircling his lip. He quails not, he
+blenches not, before that angry foe. His pulse beats calmly and
+regularly, for it is under the control of the brave great heart, which
+knows no fear. And there he stands, all calm and silent, like a firm-set
+rock that defies in its iron strength the fury of the storm that beats
+against it.
+
+Yet Berkeley is in danger. He is the object, the sole object, of the
+bitter hate of that incensed and indignant soldiery. He has pledged and
+he has broken his word to them, and when did broken faith ever fail to
+arouse the indignation of Virginians? He has denied them the right to
+protect, by organized force, their homes and their firesides from the
+midnight attacks of ruthless savages. He has advised the passage of laws
+restricting their commerce, and reducing the value of their staples. He
+has urged the erection of forts throughout the colony, armed with a
+regular soldiery, supported in their idleness by the industry of
+Virginians, and whose sole object is to check the kindling flame of
+liberty among the people. He has sanctioned and encouraged the exercise
+of power by Parliament to tax an unrepresented colony. He has advised
+and upheld His Majesty in depriving the original patentees of immense
+tracts of land, and lavishing them as princely donations upon fawning
+favourites. He has refused to represent to the king the many grievances
+of the colony, and to urge their redress, and, although thus showing
+himself to be a tyrant over a free people, he has dared to urge, through
+his servile commissioners, his appointment as Governor for life.
+
+Such were some of the many causes of discontent among the colonists
+which had so inflamed them against Sir William Berkeley. And now, there
+he stood before them, calm in spite of their menaces, unrelenting in
+spite of their remonstrances. Without a word of command, and with one
+accord a hundred fusils were pointed at the breast of the brave old
+Governor. It was a moment of intense excitement—of terrible suspense.
+But even then his courage and his self-reliance forsook him not. Tearing
+open his vest, and presenting himself at the window more fully to their
+attack, he cried out in a firm voice:
+
+“Aye, shoot! 'Fore God, a fair mark. Infatuated men, bury your wrongs
+here in my heart. I dare you to do your worst!”
+
+“Down with your guns!” shouted Bacon, angrily. But it needed not the
+order of their leader to cause them to drop their weapons in an instant.
+The calm smile which still played around the countenance of the old
+Governor, the unblenching glance of that eagle eye, and the unawed
+manner in which he dared them to revenge, all had their effect in
+allaying the resentment of the soldiers. And with this came the memory
+of the olden time, when he was so beloved by his people, because so just
+and gentle. Something of this old feeling now returned, and as they
+lowered their weapons a tear glistened in many a hardy soldier's eye.
+
+With the quick perception of true genius, Nathaniel Bacon saw the effect
+produced. Well aware of the volatile materials with which he had to
+work, he dreaded a revolution in the feelings of the men. Anxious to
+smother the smouldering ashes of loyalty before they were fanned into a
+flame, he cried with a loud voice,
+
+“Not a hair of your head shall be touched. No, nor of any man's. I come
+for justice, not for vengeance. I come to plead for the mercy which
+ill-judged and cruel delay has long denied this people. I come to plead
+for the living—my argument may be heard from the dead. The voices of
+murdered Englishmen call to you from the ground. We demand a right,
+guarantied by the sacred and inviolable law of self-preservation! A
+right! guarantied by the plighted but violated word of an English knight
+and a Virginia Governor. A right! which I now hold by the powerful,
+albeit unwritten, sanction of these, the sovereigns of Virginia.”
+
+The last artful allusion of Bacon entirely restored the confidence of
+his soldiers, and with loud cries they shouted in chorus, “And we will
+have it!—we will have it!”
+
+Berkeley listened patiently to this brief address, and then turned from
+the window where he was standing, and took his seat at the
+council-table. Here, too, he was surrounded by many who, either alarmed
+at the menaces of the rebels, and convinced of the futility of resisting
+their demands, or, what is more probable, who had a secret sympathy in
+the causes of the rebellion, exerted all their influence in mollifying
+the wrath and obstinacy of the old Governor. But it was all in vain. To
+every argument or persuasion which was urged, his only reply was,
+
+“To have forced from me by rebels the trust confided in me by my king!
+To yield to force what I denied to petition! No, Gentlemen; 'fore God,
+if the authority of my master's government must be overcome in Virginia,
+let me perish with it. I wish no higher destiny than to be a martyr,
+like my royal master, Charles the First, to the cause of truth and
+justice. Let them rob me of my life when they rob me of my trust.”
+
+While thus the councillors were vainly endeavoring to persuade the old
+man to yield to the current which had so set against him, he was
+surprised by a slight touch on his shoulder, and on looking up he saw
+Alfred Bernard standing before him. The young man bent over, and in a
+low whisper uttered these significant words:
+
+“The commission, extorted by force, is null and void when the duress is
+removed.”
+
+Struck by a view so apposite to his condition, and so entirely tallying
+with his own wishes, the impetuous old Governor fairly leaped from his
+chair and grasped the hand of his young adviser.
+
+“Right, by God!” he said; “right, my son. Gentlemen, this young man's
+counsel is worth all of your's. Out of the mouth of babes and
+sucklings—however, Alfred, you would not relish a compliment paid at
+the expense of your manhood.”
+
+“What does the young man propose?” drawled the phlegmatic old Cole, who
+was one of the council board.
+
+“That I should yield to the current when I must, and resist it when I
+can,” cried Berkeley, exultingly. “Loyalty must only bow to the storm,
+as the tree bows before the tempest. The most efficient resistance is
+apparent concession.”
+
+The councillors were astounded. Sprung from that chivalric Anglo-Saxon
+race, who respected honour more than life, and felt a stain like a
+wound, they could scarcely believe their senses when they thus heard the
+Governor of Virginia recommending deceit and simulation to secure his
+safety. To them, rebellion was chiefly detestable because it was an
+infraction of the oath of loyalty. It could scarcely be more base than
+the premeditated perjury which Sir William contemplated. Many an angry
+eye and dark scowl was bent on Alfred Bernard, who met them with an easy
+and defiant air. The silence that ensued expressed more clearly than
+words the disapprobation of the council. At length old Ballard, one of
+the most loyal and esteemed members of the council, hazarded an
+expression of his views.
+
+“Sir William Berkeley, let me advise you as your counsellor, and warn
+you as your friend, to avoid the course prescribed by that young man.
+What effect can your bad faith with these misguided persons have, but to
+exasperate them?—and when once aroused, and once deceived, be assured
+that all attempts at reconciliation will be vain. I speak plainly, but I
+do so because not only your own safety, but the peace and prosperity of
+the colony are involved in your decision. Were not the broken pledges of
+that unhappy Stuart, to whom you have referred, the causes of that
+fearful revolution which alienated the affections of his subjects and at
+length cost him his life? Charles Stuart has not died in vain, if, by
+his death and his sufferings, he has taught his successors in power that
+candour, moderation and truth are due from a prince to his people. But,
+alas! what oceans of blood must be shed ere man will learn those useful
+lessons, which alone can ensure his happiness and secure his authority.”
+
+“Zounds, Ballard,” said the incensed old ruler, “you have mistaken your
+calling. I have not heard so fine a sermon this many a day, and, 'fore
+God, if you will only renounce politics, and don gown and cassock, I
+will have you installed forthwith in my dismal Hutchinson's living.
+But,” he added, more seriously, as the smile of bitter derision faded
+from his lips, “I well e'en tell you that you have expressed yourself a
+matter too freely, and have forgotten what you owe to position and
+authority.”
+
+“I have forgotten neither, sir,” said Ballard, firmly but calmly. “I owe
+respect to position, even though I may not have it for the man who holds
+that position; and when authority is abused, I owe it alike to myself
+and to the people to check it so far as I may.”
+
+The flush of passion mounted to the brow of Berkeley, as he listened to
+these words; but with a violent effort he checked the angry retort which
+rose to his lips, and turning to the rest of the council, he said:
+
+“Well, gentlemen, I will submit the proposition to you. Shall the
+commission of General of the forces of Virginia be granted to Nathaniel
+Bacon?”
+
+“Nay, Governor,” interposed another of the council, “we would know
+whether you intend—”
+
+“It is of my actions that you must advise. Leave my motives to me. What
+do you advise? Shall the commission be granted?”
+
+“Aye,” was responded in turn by each of the councillors at the board,
+and at the same moment the heavy tramp of approaching footsteps was
+heard, and Bacon, attended by Lawrence, Bland and Hansford, entered the
+chamber.
+
+The council remained seated and covered, and preserved the most
+imperturbable silence. It was a scene not unlike that of that ancient
+senate, who, unable to resist the attack of barbarians, evinced their
+pride and bravery by their contemptuous silence. The sun was shining
+brightly through the western windows of the chamber, and his glaring
+rays, softened and coloured by the rich red curtains of damask, threw a
+deeper flush upon the cheeks of the haughty old councillors. With their
+eyes fixed upon the intruders, they patiently awaited the result of the
+interview. On the other hand, the attitude and behaviour of the rebels
+was not less calm and dignified. They had evidently counselled well
+before they had determined to intrude thus upon the deliberations of the
+council. It was with no angry or impatient outburst of passion, with no
+air of triumph, that they came. They knew their rights, and had come to
+claim and maintain them.
+
+There were two men there, and they the youngest of that mixed assembly,
+who viewed each other with looks of darker hatred than the rest. The
+wound inflicted in Hansford's heart at Windsor Hall had not yet been
+healed—and with that tendency to injustice so habitual to lovers, with
+the proclivity of all men to seek out some one whom they may charge as
+the author of their own misfortune, he viewed Bernard with feelings of
+distrust and enmity. He felt, too, or rather he feared, that the heart
+left vacant by his own exclusion from it, might be filled with this
+young rival. Bernard, on the other hand, had even stronger reason of
+dislike, and if such motives could operate even upon the noble mind of
+Hansford, with how much greater force would they impress the selfish
+character of the young jesuit. The recollection of that last scene with
+Virginia in the park, of her unwavering devotion to her rebel lover,
+and her disregard of his own feelings came upon him now with renewed
+force, as he saw that rebel rival stand before him. Even if filial
+regard for her father's wishes and a sense of duty to herself would
+forever prevent her alliance with Hansford, Alfred Bernard felt that so
+long as his rival lived there was an insuperable obstacle to his
+acquisition of her estate, an object which he prized even more than her
+love. Thus these two young men darted angry glances at each other, and
+forgot in their own personal aggrievements, the higher principles for
+which they were engaged of loyalty on the one hand, and liberty on the
+other.
+
+Bacon was the first to break silence.
+
+“Methinks,” he said, “that your honours are not inclined to fall into
+the error of deciding in haste and repenting at leisure.”
+
+“Mr. Bacon,” said Berkeley, “you must be aware that the appearance of
+this armed force tends to prejudice your claims. It would be indecorous
+in me to be over-awed by menaces, or to yield to compulsion. But the
+necessities of the time demand that there should be an organized force,
+to resist the encroachments of the Indians. It is, therefore, not from
+fear of your threats, but from conviction of this necessity that I have
+determined to grant you the commission which you ask, with full power to
+raise, equip, and provision an army, and with instructions, that you
+forthwith proceed to march against the savages.”
+
+Bacon could scarcely suppress a smile at this boastful appearance of
+authority and disavowal of compulsion, on the part of the proud old
+Governor. It was with a thrill of rapture that he thus at last possessed
+the great object of his wishes. Already idolized by the people, he only
+needed a legal recognition of his authority to accomplish the great ends
+that he had in view. As the commission was made out in due form,
+engrossed and sealed, and handed to him, he clutched it eagerly, as
+though it were a sceptre of royal power. Little suspecting the design of
+the wily Governor, he felt all his confidence in him restored at once,
+and from his generous heart he forgave him all the past.
+
+“This commission, though military,” he said, proudly, “is the seal of
+restored tranquillity to the colony. Think not it will be perverted to
+improper uses. Royalty is to Virginians what the sun is to the pious
+Persian. Virginia was the last to desert the setting sun of royalty, and
+still lingered piously and tearfully to look upon its declining rays.
+She was the first to hail the glorious restoration of its light, and as
+she worshipped its rising beams, she will never seek to quench or
+overcloud its meridian lustre. I go, gentlemen, to restore peace to the
+fireside and confidence to the hearts of this people. The sword of my
+country shall never be turned against herself.”
+
+The heightened colour of his cheek, and the bright flashing of his eye,
+bespoke the pride and delight of his heart. With a profound bow he
+turned from the room, and with his aids, he descended to rejoin his
+anxious and expectant followers. In a few moments the loud shout of the
+soldiery was heard testifying their satisfaction at the result. The
+names of Berkeley and of Bacon were upon their lips—and as the proud
+old Governor gazed from the window at that happy crowd, and saw with the
+admiring eye of a brave man, the tall and martial form of Nathaniel
+Bacon at their head, he scarcely regretted in that moment that his loyal
+name had been linked with the name of a traitor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+    “Me glory summons to the martial scene,
+    The field of combat is the sphere of men;
+    Where heroes war the foremost place I claim,
+    The first in danger, as the first in fame.”
+                                              _Pope's Iliad._
+
+
+We return to Virginia Temple, who, although not an eye-witness of the
+scene which we have just described, was far from being disinterested in
+its result. The words of the singular woman, with whom she had
+conversed, had made some impression upon her mind. Although disgusted
+with the facility with which Dame Drummond had distorted and perverted
+Scripture to justify her own wild absurdities, Virginia still felt that
+there was much cause for self-reproach in her conduct to her lover. She
+felt every assurance that though he might err, he would err from
+judgment alone; and how little did she know of the questions at issue
+between the aroused people and the government. Indeed, when she saw the
+character of those with whom Hansford was associated—men not impelled
+by the blind excitement of a mob, but evidently actuated by higher
+principles of right and justice, her heart misgave her that, perhaps,
+she had permitted prejudice to carry her too far in her opposition to
+their cause. The struggle in her mind was indeed an unequal one. It was
+love pleading against ignorant prejudice, and that at the forum of a
+woman's heart. Can it be wondered at that Virginia Temple, left to
+herself, without an adviser, yielded to the powerful plea, and freely
+and fully forgave her rebel lover? And when she thought, too, that,
+however guilty to his country, he had, at least, been ever faithful to
+her, she added to her forgiveness of him the bitterest self-reproach. On
+one thing she was resolved, that notwithstanding the apparent indelicacy
+of such a course, she would grant him the interview which he requested,
+and if she could not win him from his error, at least part from him,
+though forever, as a friend. She felt that it was due to her former
+love, and to his unwavering devotion, to grant this last request.
+
+Once determined on her course, the hours rolled heavily away until the
+time fixed for her appointment with Hansford. Despite her attempt to
+prove cheerful and unconcerned, her lynx-eyed mother detected her
+sadness, but was easily persuaded that it was due to a slight head-ache,
+with which she was really suffering, and which she pleaded as an excuse.
+The old lady was more easily deceived, because it tallied with her own
+idea, that Jamestown was very unhealthy, and that she, herself, could
+never breathe its unwholesome air without the most disastrous
+consequences to her health.
+
+At length, Colonel Temple, having left the crowd of busy politicians,
+who were discussing the events of the day in the hall, returned with his
+good wife to their own room. Virginia, with a beating heart, resumed her
+watch at the window, where she was to await the coming of Sarah
+Drummond. It was a warm, still night. Scarcely a breath of air was
+stirring the leaves of the long line of elms that adorned the street.
+She sat watching the silent stars, and wondering if those bright worlds
+contained scenes of sorrow and despair like this; or were they but the
+pure mansions which the Comforter was preparing in his heavenly kingdom
+for those disconsolate children of earth who longed for that peace which
+he had promised when he told his trusting disciples “Let not your heart
+be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” How apt are the sorrowing souls
+of earth to look thus into the blue depths of heaven, and in their
+selfishness to think that Nature, with her host of created beings, was
+made for them. She chose from among those shining worlds, one bright and
+trembling star, which stood apart, and there transported on the wings of
+Fancy or Faith, she lived in love and peace with Hansford. Sweet was
+that star-home to the trusting girl, as she watched it in its slow and
+silent course through heaven. Free from the cares which vex the spirit
+in this dark sin-world, that happy star was filled with love, and the
+blissful pair who knew it as their home, felt no change, save in the
+“grateful vicissitude of pleasure and repose.” Such was the picture
+which the young girl, with the pencil of hope, and the colours of fancy
+painted for her soul's eye. But as she gazed, the star faded from her
+sight, and a dark and heavy cloud lowered from the place where it had
+stood.
+
+At the same moment, as if the vision in which she had been rapt was
+something more than a dream, the door of her chamber opened, and Sarah
+Drummond entered. The heart of Virginia Temple nearly failed her, as she
+thought of the coincidence in time of the disappearance of the star and
+the summons to her interview with Hansford. Her companion marked her
+manner, and in a more gentle voice than she had yet assumed, she said,
+
+“Why art thou cast down, maiden? Let not your heart sink in the
+performance of a duty. Have you decided?”
+
+“Must I meet him alone?” asked Virginia. “Oh, how could he make a
+request so hard to be complied with!”
+
+“Alone!” said Sarah, with a sneer. “Yes, silly girl, reared in the
+school that would teach that woman's virtue is too frail even to be
+tempted. Yes, alone! She who cannot trust her honour to a lover, knows
+but little of the true power of love.”
+
+“I will follow you,” replied Virginia, firmly, and throwing a shawl
+loosely around her, she rose from her seat and prepared to go.
+
+“Come on, then,” said Sarah, quickly, “there is no time to be lost. In
+an hour, at most, the triumphant defenders of right will be upon their
+march.”
+
+The insurgents, wearied with their long march the night and day before,
+and finding no accommodation for their numbers in the inn, or elsewhere,
+had determined to seek a few hours repose in the green lawn surrounding
+the state-house, previous to their night march upon the Indians. It was
+here that Hansford had appointed to meet and bid farewell to his
+betrothed Virginia. Half leading, half dragging the trembling girl, who
+had already well nigh repented her resolution, Sarah Drummond walked
+rapidly down the street, in the direction of the state-house. Arrived at
+the gate, their further progress was arrested by a rough, uncouth
+sentinel, who in a coarse voice demanded who they were.
+
+“I am Sarah Drummond,” said the woman, promptly, “and this young maiden
+would speak with Major Hansford.”
+
+“Why, 'stains, dame, what has become of all your religion, that you
+should turn ribibe on our hands, and be bringing young hoydens this time
+o' night to the officers. For shame, Dame Drummond.”
+
+“Berkenhead,” cried the woman, fiercely, “we all know you for a traitor
+and a blasphemer, who serve but for the loaves and fishes, and not for
+the pure word. You gained your liberty, you know, by betraying your
+fellows in the insurrection of '62, and are a base pensioner upon the
+bounty of the Assembly for your cowardice and treason. But God often
+maketh the carnal-minded of this world to fulfil his will, and so we
+must e'en bear with you yet a little while. Come, let us pass.”
+
+“Nay, dame,” said the old soldier, “I care but little for your abuse;
+but duty is duty, and so an' ye give me not the shibboleth, as old
+Noll's canters would say, you may e'en tramp back. You see, I've got
+some of your slang, and will fight the devil with his own fire: 'And
+there fell of the children of Ephraim, at the passage of the Jordan—'”
+
+“Hush, blasphemer!” said Sarah, impatiently. “But if you must have the
+pass before you can admit us, take it.” And she leaned forward and
+whispered in his ear the words, “Be faithful to the cause.”
+
+“Right as a trivet,” said Berkenhead, “and so pass on. A fig for the
+consequences, so that my skirts are clear.”
+
+Relieved from this embarrassment, Sarah Drummond and her trembling
+companion passed through the gate, and proceeded up the long gravelled
+walk which led to the state-house. They had not gone far before Virginia
+Temple descried a dark form approaching them, and even before she could
+recognize the features, her heart told her it was Hansford. In another
+moment she was in his arms.
+
+“My own Virginia, my loved one,” he cried, regardless of the presence of
+Mrs. Drummond, “I scarcely dared hope that you would have kept your
+promise to say farewell. Come, dearest, lean on my arm, I have much to
+tell you. You, my kind dame, remain here for a few moments—we will not
+detain you long.”
+
+Quietly yielding to his request, Virginia took her lover's arm, and they
+walked silently along the path, leaving the good dame Drummond to digest
+alone her crude notions about the prospects of Israel.
+
+“Is it not singular,” said Hansford at length, “that before you came, I
+thought the brief hour we must spend together was far too short to say
+half that I wish, and now I can say nothing. The quiet feeling of love,
+of pure and tranquil love, banishes every other thought from my heart.”
+
+“I fear—I fear,” murmured Virginia, “that I have done very wrong in
+consenting to this interview.”
+
+“And why, Virginia,” said her lover, “even the malefactor is permitted
+the poor privilege of bidding farewell forever to those around him—and
+am I worse than he?”
+
+“No, Hansford, no,” replied Virginia, “but to come thus with a perfect
+stranger, at night, and without my father's permission, to an interview
+with one who has met with his disapprobation—”
+
+“True love,” replied Hansford, sadly, “overleaps all such feeble
+barriers as these—where the happiness of the loved one is concerned.”
+
+“And, therefore, I came,” returned the young girl, “but you forget,
+Hansford, that the relation which once existed between us has, by our
+mutual consent, been dissolved—what then was proper cannot now be
+permitted.”
+
+“If such be the case,” replied Hansford, in an offended tone, “Miss
+Temple must be aware that I am the last person to urge her to continue
+in a course which her judgment disapproves. May I conduct you to your
+companion?”
+
+Virginia did not at first reply. The coldness of manner which she had
+assumed was far from being consonant with her real feelings, and the
+ingenuous girl could no longer continue the part which she attempted to
+represent. After a brief pause, the natural affection of her nature
+triumphed, and with the most artless frankness she said,
+
+“Oh, no, Hansford, my tongue can no longer speak other language than
+that which my heart dictates. Forgive me for what I have said. We cannot
+part thus.”
+
+“Thanks, my dearest girl,” he cried, “for this assurance. The future is
+already too dark, for the light of hope to be entirely withdrawn. These
+troublous times will soon be over, and then—”
+
+“Nay, Hansford,” said Virginia, interrupting him, “I fear you cannot
+even then hope for that happiness which you profess to anticipate in our
+union. These things I have thought of deeply and sorrowfully. Whatever
+may be the issue of this unnatural contest, to us the result must be the
+same. My father's prejudices—and without his consent, I would never
+yield my hand to any one—are so strong against your cause, that come
+what may, they can never be removed.”
+
+“He must himself, ere long, see the justice of our cause,” said
+Hansford, confidently. “It is impossible that truth can long be hid from
+one, who, like your noble father, must ever be desirous of its success.”
+
+“And do you think,” returned Virginia, “that having failed to arrive at
+your conclusions in his moments of calm reflection, he will be apt to
+change his opinions under the more formidable reasoning of the bayonet?
+Believe me, Hansford, that scenes like those which we have this day
+witnessed, can never reconcile the opposing parties in this unhappy
+strife.”
+
+“It is true, too true,” said Hansford, sorrowfully; “and is there then
+no hope?”
+
+“Yes, there is a hope,” said Virginia, earnestly. “Let not the foolish
+pride of consistency prevent you from acknowledging an error when
+committed. Boldly and manfully renounce the career into which impulse
+has driven you. Return to your allegiance—to your ancient faith; and
+believe me, that Virginia Temple will rejoice more in your repentance
+than if all the honours of martial glory, or of civic renown, were
+showered upon you. She would rather be the trusting wife of the humble
+and repentant servant of his king, than the queen of a sceptered
+usurper, who clambered to the throne through the blood of the martyrs of
+faith and loyalty.”
+
+“Oh, Virginia!” said Hansford, struggling hard between duty and love.
+
+“I know it is hard to conquer the fearful pride of your heart,” said
+Virginia; “but, Hansford, 'tis a noble courage that is victorious in
+such a contest. Let me hear your decision. There is a civil war in your
+heart,” she added, more playfully, “and that rebel pride must succumb to
+the strong arm of your own self-government.”
+
+“In God's name, tempt me no further!” cried Hansford. “We may well
+believe that man lost his high estate of happiness by the allurements of
+woman, since even now the cause of truth is endangered by listening to
+her persuasions.”
+
+“I had hoped,” replied the young girl, aroused by this sudden change of
+manner on the part of her lover, “that the love which you have so long
+professed was something more than mere profession. But be it so. The
+first sacrifice which you have ever been called upon to make has
+estranged your heart forever, and you toss aside the love which you
+pretended so fondly to cherish, as a toy no longer worthy of your
+regard.”
+
+“This is unkind, Virginia,” returned Hansford, in an injured tone. “I
+have not deserved this at your hands. Sorely you have tempted me; but,
+thank God, not even the sweet hope which you extend can allure me from
+my duty. If my country demand the sacrifice of my heart, then let the
+victim be bound upon her altar. The sweet memories of the past, the love
+which still dwells in that heart, the crushed hopes of the future, will
+all unite to form the sad garland to adorn it for the sacrifice.”
+
+The tone of deep melancholy with which Hansford uttered these words
+showed how painful had been the struggle through which he had passed. It
+had its effect, too, upon the heart of Virginia. She felt how cruel had
+been her language just before—how unjust had been her charge of
+inconstancy. She saw at once the fierce contest in Hansford's breast, in
+which duty had triumphed over love. Ingenuous as she ever was, she
+acknowledged her fault, and wept, and was forgiven.
+
+“And now,” said Hansford, more calmly, “my own Virginia—for I may still
+call you so—in thus severing forever the chain which has bound us, I do
+not renounce my love, nor the deep interest which I feel in your future
+destiny. I love you too dearly to wish that you should still love me;
+find elsewhere some one more worthy than I to fill your heart. Forget
+that you ever loved me; if you can, forget that you ever knew me. And
+yet, as a friend, let me warn you, with all the sincerity of my heart,
+to beware of Alfred Bernard.”
+
+“Of whom?” asked Virginia, in surprise.
+
+“Of that serpent, who, with gilded crest and subtle guile, would intrude
+into the garden of your heart,” continued Hansford, solemnly.
+
+“Why, Hansford,” said Virginia, “you scarcely know the young man of whom
+you speak. Like you, my friend, my affections are buried in the past. I
+can never love again. But yet I would not have you wrong with unjust
+suspicions one who has never done you wrong. On the contrary, even in my
+brief intercourse with him, his conduct towards you has been courteous
+and generous.”
+
+“How hard is it for innocence to suspect guile,” said Hansford. “My
+sweet girl, these very professions of generosity towards me, have but
+sealed my estimate of his character. For me he entertains the deadliest
+hate. Against me he has sworn the deadliest vengeance. I tell you,
+Virginia, that if ever kindly nature implanted an instinct in the human
+heart to warn it of approaching danger, she did so when first I looked
+upon that man. My subsequent knowledge of him but strengthened this
+intuition. Mild, insinuating, and artful, he is more to be feared than
+an open foe. I dread a villain when I see him smile.”
+
+“Hush! we are overheard,” said Virginia, trembling, and looking around,
+Hansford saw Arthur Hutchinson, the preacher, emerging from the shadow
+of an adjacent elm tree.
+
+“Young gentleman,” said Hutchinson, in his soft melodious voice, “I have
+heard unwillingly what perhaps I should not. He who would speak in the
+darkness of the night as you have spoken of an absent man, does not care
+to have many auditors.”
+
+“And he who would screen himself in that darkness, to hear what he
+should not,” retorted Hansford, haughtily, “is not the man to resent
+what he has heard, I fear. But what I say, I am ready to maintain with
+my sword—and if you be a friend of the individual of whom I have
+spoken, and choose to espouse his quarrel, let me conduct this young
+lady to a place of safety, and I will return to grant such satisfaction
+as you or your principal may desire.”
+
+“This young maiden will tell you,” said Hutchinson, “that I am not one
+of those who acknowledge that bloody arbiter between man and man, to
+which you refer.”
+
+“Oh, no!” cried Virginia, in an agitated voice; “this is the good parson
+Hutchinson, of whom you have heard.”
+
+“And you, maiden,” said Hutchinson, “are not in the path of duty. Think
+you it is either modest or becoming, to leave your parents and your
+home, and seek a clandestine interview with this stranger. Return to
+your home. You have erred, grossly erred in this.”
+
+“Nay,” cried Hansford, in a threatening voice, “if you say ought in
+reproach of this young lady, by heavens, your parson's coat will scarce
+protect you from the just punishment of your insolence;” then suddenly
+checking himself, he added, “Forgive me, sir, this hasty folly. I
+believe you mean well, although your language is something of the most
+offensive. And say to your friend Mr. Bernard, all that you have heard,
+and tell him for Major Hansford, that there is an account to be settled
+between us, which I have not forgotten.”
+
+“Hansford!” cried the preacher, with emotion, “Hansford, did you say?
+Look ye, sir, I am a minister of peace, and cannot on my conscience bear
+your hostile message. But I warn you, if your name indeed be Hansford,
+that you are in danger from the young man of whom you speak. His blood
+is hot, his arm is skilful, and towards you his purpose is not good.”
+
+“I thank you for your timely warning, good sir,” returned Hansford,
+haughtily; “but you speak of danger to one who regards it not.” Then
+turning to Virginia, he said in a low voice, “'Tis at least a blessing,
+that the despair which denies to the heart the luxury of love, at least
+makes it insensible to fear.”
+
+“And are you such an one,” said Hutchinson, overhearing him; “and is it
+on thee that the iniquities of the father will be visited. Forbid it,
+gracious heaven, and forgive as thou would'st have me forgive the sins
+of the past.”
+
+“Mr. Hutchinson,” said Hansford, annoyed by the preacher's solemn manner
+and mysterious words, “I know nothing, and care little for all this
+mystery. Your brain must be a little disordered—for I assure you, that
+as I was born in the colony, and you are but a recent settler here, it
+is impossible that there can be any such mysterious tie between us as
+that at which you so darkly hint.”
+
+“The day may come,” replied Hutchinson, in the same solemn manner, “when
+you will know all to your cost—and when you may find that care and
+sorrow can indeed shake reason on her throne.”
+
+“Well, be it so, but as you value your safety, urge me no further with
+these menaces. But pardon me, how came you in this enclosure? Know you
+not that you are within the boundaries of the General's camp, against
+his strict orders?”
+
+“Aye,” replied the preacher, “I knew that the rebels were encamped
+hereabout, but I did not, and do not, see by what right they can impede
+a peaceful citizen in his movements.”
+
+“Reverend sir,” said Hansford, “you have the reputation of having a
+sound head on your shoulders, and should have a prudent tongue in your
+head. I would advise you, therefore, to refrain from the too frequent
+use of that word 'rebel,' which just fell from you. But it is time we
+should part. I will conduct you to the gate lest you find some
+difficulty in passing the sentry, and you will oblige me, kind sir, by
+seeing this young lady to her home.” Then turning to Virginia, he
+whispered his brief adieu, and imprinting a long, warm kiss upon her
+lips, he led the way in silence to the gate. Here they parted. She to
+return to her quiet chamber to mourn over hopes thus fled forever, and
+he to forget self and sorrow in the stirring events of martial life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+      “In the service of mankind to be
+    A guardian god below; still to employ
+    The mind's brave ardour in heroic aims,
+    Such as may raise us o'er the grovelling herd
+    And make us shine forever—that is life.”
+                                        _Thomson._
+
+
+In a short time the bustle and stir in the camp of the insurgents
+announced that their little army was about to commence its march.
+Nathaniel Bacon rode slowly along Stuart street, at the head of the
+soldiery, and leaving Jamestown to the east, extended his march towards
+the falls of James river. Here, he had received intelligence that the
+hostile tribes had gathered to a head, and he determined without delay
+to march upon them unawares, and with one decisive blow to put an end to
+the war. Flushed with triumph, he thought, the soldiery would more
+willingly and efficiently turn their arms against the government, and
+aid in carrying out his darling project of effecting some organic
+changes in the charter of the colony; if, indeed, it was not already his
+purpose to dissolve the political connection of Virginia with the mother
+country.
+
+The little party rode on in silence for several miles, for each was
+buried in his own reflections. Bacon, with his own peculiar views of
+ambition and glory, felt but little sympathy with those who united in
+the rebellion for the specific object of a march against the savages.
+Hansford was meditating on the heavy sacrifice which he had made for his
+country's service, and striving to see, in the dim future, some gleam of
+hope which might cheer him in his gloom. Lawrence and Drummond, the two
+most influential leaders in the movement, had been left behind in
+Jamestown, their place of residence, to watch the movements of Berkeley,
+in whose fair promises none of the insurgents seemed to place implicit
+confidence. The rest of the little party had already exhausted in
+discussion the busy events of the day, and remained silent from want of
+material for conversation.
+
+At length, however, Bacon, whose knowledge of human nature had
+penetrated the depths of Hansford's heart, and who felt deeply for his
+favourite, gave him the signal to advance somewhat in front of their
+comrades, and the following conversation took place:
+
+“And so, my friend,” said Bacon, in the mild, winning voice, which he
+knew so well how to assume; “and so, my friend, you have renounced your
+dearest hopes in life for this glorious enterprise.”
+
+Hansford only answered with a sigh.
+
+“Take it not thus hardly,” continued Bacon. “Think of your loss as a
+sacrifice to liberty. Look to the future for your happiness, to a
+redeemed and liberated country for your home—to glory as your bride.”
+
+“Alas!” said Hansford, “glory could never repay the loss of happiness.
+Believe me, General, that personal fame is not what I covet. Far better
+would it be for me to have been born and reared in obscurity, and to
+pass my brief life with those I love, than for the glittering bauble,
+glory, to give up all that is dear to the heart.”
+
+“And do you repent the course you have taken,” asked Bacon, with some
+surprise.
+
+“Repent! no; God forbid that I should repent of any sacrifice which I
+have made to the cause of my country. But it is duty that prompts me,
+not glory. For as to this selfsame will-o'-the-wisp, which seems to
+allure so many from happiness, I trust it not. I am much of the little
+Prince Arthur's mind—
+
+    'By my Christendom,
+    So I were out of prison and kept sheep,
+    I should be as merry as the day is long.'
+
+Duty is the prison which at last keeps man from enjoying his own happier
+inclination.”
+
+“There you are wrong, Hansford,” said Bacon, “duty is the poor drudge,
+which, patient in its harness, pursues the will of another. Glory is the
+wild, unconfined eagle, that impatient of restraint would soar to a
+heaven of its own.”
+
+“And is it such an object as this that actuates you in our present
+enterprise?” asked Hansford.
+
+“Both,” replied the enthusiastic leader. “Man, in his actions, is
+controlled by many forces—and duty is chiefly prized when it waits as
+the humble handmaiden on glory. But in this enterprise other feelings
+enter in to direct my course. Revenge against these relentless wolves of
+the forest for the murder of a friend—revenge against that proud old
+tyrant, Berkeley, who, clothed in a little brief authority, would
+trample me under his feet,—love of my country, which impels me to aid
+in her reformation, and to secure her liberty—and, nay, don't
+frown,—desire for that fame which is to the mere discharge of plain
+duty what the spirit is to the body—which directs and sustains it here,
+but survives its dissolution. Are not these sufficient motives of
+action?”
+
+“Pardon me, General,” said Hansford, “but I see only one motive here
+which is worthy of you. Self-preservation, not revenge, could alone
+justify an assault upon these misguided savages—and your love of
+country is sufficient inducement to urge you to her protection and
+defence. But these motives are chiefly personal to yourself. How can you
+expect them to affect the minds of your followers?”
+
+“Look ye, Major Hansford,” said Bacon, “I speak to you as I do not to
+most men—because I know you have a mind and a heart superior to
+them—I would dare not attempt to influence you as I do others; but do
+you see those poor trusting fellows that are following in our wake?
+These men help men like you and me to rise, as feathers help the eagle
+to soar above the clouds. But the proud bird may moult a feather from
+his pinion without descending from his lofty pride of place.”
+
+“And this then is what you call liberty?” said Hansford, a little
+offended at the overbearing manner of the young demagogue.
+
+“Certainly,” returned Bacon, calmly, “the only liberty for which the
+mass of mankind are fitted. The instincts of nature point them to the
+man most worthy to control their destinies. Their brute force aids in
+elevating him to power—and then he returns upon their heads the
+blessings with which they have entrusted him. Do you remember the happy
+compliment of my old namesake of St. Albans to Queen Elizabeth? Royalty
+is the heaven which, like the blessed sun, exhales the moisture from the
+earth, and then distilling it in gentle rains, it falleth on the heads
+of those from whom she has received it.”
+
+“I remember the compliment, which beautiful though it may be in imagery,
+I always thought was but the empty flattery of a vain old royal spinster
+by an accomplished courtier. I never suspected that St. Albans, far less
+his relative, Nathaniel Bacon, believed it to be true. And so, with all
+your high flown doctrines of popular rights and popular liberty, you are
+an advocate for royalty at last.”
+
+“Nay, you mistake me, I will not say wilfully,” replied Bacon, in an
+offended tone, “I merely used the sentiment as an illustration of what I
+had been saying. The people must have rulers, and my idea of liberty
+only extends to their selection of them. After that, stability in
+government requires that the power of the people should cease, and that
+of the ruler begin. You may purify the stream through which the power
+flows, by constantly resorting to the fountain head; but if you keep the
+power pent up in the fountain, like water, it will stagnate and become
+impure, or else overflow its banks and devastate that soil which it was
+intended to fertilize.”
+
+“Our ideas of liberty, I confess,” said Hansford, “differ very widely.
+God grant that our antagonistic views may not prejudice the holy cause
+in which we are now engaged.”
+
+“Well, let us drop the subject then,” said Bacon, carelessly, “as there
+is so little prospect of our agreeing in sentiment. What I said was
+merely meant to while away this tedious journey, and make you forget
+your own private griefs. But tell me, what do you think of the result of
+this enterprise?”
+
+“I think it attended with great danger,” replied Hansford.
+
+“I had not thought,” returned Bacon, with something between a smile and
+a sneer, “that Thomas Hansford would have considered the question of
+peril involved in a contest like this.”
+
+“I am at a loss to understand your meaning,” said Hansford, indignantly.
+“If you think I regard danger for myself, I tell you that it is a
+feeling as far a stranger to my bosom as to your own, and this I am
+ready to maintain. If you meant no offence, I will merely say that it is
+the part of every general to 'sit down and consider the cost' before
+engaging in any enterprise.”
+
+“Why will you be so quick to take offence?” said Bacon. “Do I not know
+that fear is a stranger to your breast?—else why confide in you as I
+have done? But I spoke not of the danger attending our enterprise. To me
+danger is not a matter of indifference, it is an object of desire. They
+who would bathe in a Stygian wave, to render them invulnerable, are not
+worthy of the name of heroes. It is only the unmailed warrior, whose
+form, like the white plume of Navarre, is seen where danger is the
+thickest, that is truly brave and truly great.”
+
+“You are a singular being, Bacon,” said Hansford, with admiration, “and
+were born to be a hero. But tell me, what is it that you expect or hope
+for poor Virginia, when all your objects may be attained? She is still
+but a poor, helpless colony, sapped of her resources by a relentless
+sovereign, and expected to submit quietly to the oppressions of those
+who would enslave her.”
+
+“By heavens, no!” cried Bacon, impetuously. “It shall never be. Her
+voice has been already heard by haughty England, and it shall again be
+heard in thunder tones. She who yielded not to the call of an imperious
+dictator—she who proposed terms to Cromwell—will not long bear the
+insulting oppression of the imbecile Stuarts. The day is coming, and now
+is, when on this Western continent shall arise a nation, before whose
+potent sway even Britain shall be forced to bow. Virginia shall be the
+Rome and England shall be the Troy, and history will record the annals
+of that haughty and imperious kingdom chiefly because she was the mother
+of this western Rome. Yes,” he continued, borne along impetuously by his
+own gushing thoughts, “there shall come a time when Freedom will look
+westward for her home, and when the oppressed of every nation shall
+watch with anxious eye that star of Freedom in its onward course, and
+follow its bright guidance till it stands over the place where
+Virginia—this young child of Liberty—is; and oh! Hansford, will it
+then be nothing that we were among those who watched the infant
+breathings of that political Saviour—who gave it the lessons of wisdom
+and of virtue, and first taught it to speak and proclaim its mission to
+the world? Will it then be nothing for future generations to point to
+our names, and, in the language of pride and gratitude, to cry, there go
+the authors of our freedom?”
+
+So spake the young enthusiast, thus dimly foreshadowing the glory that
+was to be—the freedom which, just one hundred years from that eventful
+period, burst upon the world. He was not permitted, like Simeon of old,
+to see the salvation for which he longed, and for which he wrought. And
+yet he helped to plant the germ, which expanded into the wide-spreading
+tree, and his name should not be forgotten by those who rejoice in its
+fruit, or rest secure beneath its shade.
+
+Thus whiling away the hours of the night in such engrossing subjects,
+Hansford had nearly forgotten his sorrows in the visions of the future.
+How beneficent the Providence which thus enables the mind to receive
+from without entirely new impressions, which soften down, though they
+cannot erase, the wounds that a harsh destiny has inflicted.
+
+But it is time that the thread of our narrative was broken, in order to
+follow the fortunes of an humble, yet worthy character of our story.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+    “I am sorry for thee; thou art come to answer
+    A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch,
+    Uncapable of pity, void and empty
+    From any claim of mercy.”
+                      _Merchant of Venice._
+
+
+It was on a bright and beautiful morning—for mysterious nature often
+smiles on the darkest deeds of her children—that a group of Indians
+were assembled around the council-fire in one of the extensive forest
+ranges of Virginia. Their faces painted in the most grotesque and
+hideous manner, the fierceness of their looks, and the savageness of
+their dress, would alone have inspired awe in the breast of a spectator.
+But on the present occasion, the fatal business in which they were
+engaged imparted even more than usual wildness to their appearance and
+vehemence to their manner. Bound to a neighbouring tree so tightly as to
+produce the most acute pain to the poor creature, was an aged negro, who
+seemed to be the object of the vehement eloquence of his savage captors.
+Although confinement, torture, and despair had effected a fearful
+change, by tracing the lines of great suffering on his countenance, yet
+it would not have been difficult even then to recognize in the poor
+trembling wretch our old negro friend at Windsor Hall.
+
+After discovering the deception that had been practised on them by
+Mamalis, and punishing the selfish ambition of Manteo, by expelling him
+from their tribe, the Indian warriors returned to Windsor Hall, and
+finding the family had escaped, seized upon old Giles as the victim on
+whom to wreak their vengeance. With the savage cruelty of their race,
+his tormentors had doomed him, not to sudden death, which would have
+been welcome to the miserable wretch, but to a slow and lingering
+torture.
+
+It would be too painful to dwell long upon the nature of the tortures
+thus inflicted upon their victims. With all their coarseness and
+rudeness of manner and life, the Indians had arrived at a refinement and
+skill in cruelty which the persecutors of the reformers in Europe might
+envy, but to which they had never attained. Among these, tearing the
+nails from the hands and feet, knocking out the teeth with a club,
+lacerating the flesh with rough, dull muscle and oyster-shells,
+inserting sharp splinters into the wounded flesh, and then firing them
+until the unhappy being is gradually roasted to death—these were among
+the tortures more frequently inflicted. From the threats and
+preparations of his captors, old Giles had reason to apprehend that the
+worst of these tortures he would soon be called upon to endure.
+
+There is, thank God, a period, when the burdens of this life become so
+grievous, that the prayer of the fabled faggot-binder may rise sincerely
+on the lips, and when death would indeed be a welcome friend—when it is
+even soothing to reflect that,
+
+    “We bear our heavy burdens but a journey,
+    Till death unloads us.”
+
+Such was the period at which the wretched negro had now arrived. He
+listened, therefore, with patient composure to the fierce, threatening
+language of the warriors, which his former association with Manteo
+enabled him, when aided by their wild gesticulation, to comprehend. But
+it was far from the intention of the Indians to release him yet from his
+terrible existence. One of the braves approaching the poor helpless
+wretch with a small cord of catgut, such as was used by them for
+bow-strings, prepared to bind it tightly around his thumb, while the
+others gathering around in a circle waved their war-clubs high in air to
+inflict the painful bastinado. When old Giles saw the Indian approach,
+and fully comprehended his design, his heart sank within him at this new
+instrument of torture, and in despairing accents he groaned—
+
+“Kill me, kill me, but for de Lord's sake, massa, don't put dat horrid
+thing on de poor old nigga.”
+
+Regardless of his cries, the powerful Indian adjusted the cord, and with
+might and main drew it so tightly around the thumb that it entered the
+flesh even to the bone, while the poor negro shrieked in agony. Then, to
+drown the cry, the other savages commencing a wild, rude chant, let
+their war-clubs descend upon their victim with such force that he
+fainted. Just at this moment the quick ears of the Indians caught the
+almost inaudible sound of approaching horsemen, and as they paused to
+satisfy themselves of the truth of their suspicions, Bacon and his
+little band of faithful followers appeared full in sight. Leaving their
+victim in a moment, the savages prepared to defend themselves from the
+assault of their intruders, and with the quickness of thought,
+concealing themselves behind the trees and undergrowth of the forest,
+they sent a shower of arrows into the unwary ranks of their adversaries.
+
+“By Jove, that had like to have been my death-stroke,” cried Bacon, as
+an arrow directed full against his breast, glanced from a gilt button of
+his coat and fell harmless to the ground. But others of the party were
+not so fortunate as their leader. Several of the men, pierced by the
+poisoned arrows of the enemy, fell dead.
+
+Notwithstanding the success of this first charge of the Indians, Bacon
+and his party sustained the shock with coolness and intrepidity. Their
+gallant leader, himself careless of life or safety, led the charge, and
+on his powerful horse he was, like the royal hero to whom he had
+compared himself, ever seen in the thickest of the carnage. Well did he
+prove himself that day worthy of the confidence of his faithful
+followers.
+
+Nor loth were the Indians to return their charge. Although their party
+only amounted to about fifty, and Bacon's men numbered several hundred,
+yet was the idea of retreat abhorrent to their martial feelings.
+Screening themselves with comparative safety behind the large forest
+trees, or lying under the protection of the thick undergrowth, they kept
+up a constant attack with their arrows, and succeeded in effecting
+considerable loss to the whites, who, incommoded by their horses, or
+unaccustomed to this system of bush fighting, failed to produce a
+corresponding effect upon their savage foe.
+
+There was something in the religion of these simple sons of the forest
+which imparted intrepid boldness to their characters, unattainable by
+ordinary discipline. The material conception which they entertained of
+the spirit-world, where valour and heroism were the passports of
+admission, created a disregard for life such as no civilized man could
+well entertain. In that new land, to which death was but the threshold,
+their pursuits were the same in character, though greater in degree, as
+those in which they here engaged. There they would be welcomed by the
+brave warriors of a former day, and engage still in fierce contests with
+hostile tribes. There they would enjoy the delights of the chase through
+spirit forests, deeper and more gigantic than those through which they
+wandered in life. Theirs was the Valhalla to which the brave alone were
+admitted, and among whose martial habitants would continue the same
+emulation in battle, the same stoicism in suffering, as in their
+forest-world. Such was the character of their simple religion, which
+created in their breasts that heroism and fortitude, in danger or in
+pain, that has with one accord been attributed to them.
+
+But despite their valour and resolution, the contest, with such
+disparity of numbers, must needs be brief. Bacon pursued each advantage
+which he gained with relentless vigour, ever and anon cheering his
+followers, and crying out, as he rushed onward to the charge, “Don't let
+one of the bloody dogs escape. Remember, my gallant boys, the peace of
+your firesides and the lives and safety of your wives and children.
+Remember the brave men who have already fallen before the hand of the
+savage foe.”
+
+Faithful to his injunction, the overwhelming power of the whites soon
+strewed the ground with the bodies of the brave savages. The few who
+remained, dispirited and despairing, fled through the forest from the
+irresistible charge of the enemy.
+
+Meantime the unfortunate Giles had recovered from the swoon into which
+he had fallen, and began to look wildly about him, as though in a dream.
+To the fact that the contending parties had been closely engaged, and
+that from this cause not a gun had been fired, the old negro probably
+owed his life. With the superstition of his race, the poor creature
+attributed this fortunate succour to a miraculous interposition of
+Providence in his behalf; and when he saw the last of his oppressors
+flying before the determined onslaught of the white men, he fervently
+cried,
+
+“Thank the Lord, for he done sent his angels to stop de lion's mouf, and
+to save de poor old nigger from dere hands.”
+
+“Hallo, comrades,” said Berkenhead, when he espied the poor old negro
+bound to the tree, “who have we here? This must be old Ochee[37]
+himself, whom the Lord has delivered into our hands. Hark ye,” he
+added, proceeding to unbind him, “where do you come from?—or are you in
+reality the evil one, whom these infidel red-skins worship?”
+
+“Oh, no, Massa, I a'ant no evil sperrit. A sperrit hab not flesh and
+bones as you see me hab.”
+
+“Nay,” returned the coarse-hearted soldier, “that reasoning won't serve
+your purpose, for there is precious little flesh and blood about you,
+old man. The most you can lay claim to is skin and bones.”
+
+Hansford, who had been standing a little distance off, was attracted by
+this conversation, and turning in the direction of the old negro, was
+much surprised to recognize, under such horrible circumstances, the
+quondam steward, butler and factotum of Windsor Hall. Nor was Giles'
+surprise less in meeting with Miss Virginia's “buck” in so secluded a
+spot. It was with difficulty that Hansford could prevent him from
+throwing his arms around his neck; but giving the old man a hearty shake
+of the hand, he asked him the story of his captivity, which Giles, with
+much importance, proceeded to relate. But he had scarcely begun his
+narrative, when the attention of the insurgents was attracted by the
+approach of two horsemen, who advanced towards them at a rapid rate, as
+though they had some important intelligence to communicate.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[37] The evil spirit, sometimes called Opitchi Manitou, and worshipped
+by the Indians.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+    “Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks,
+    Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast.”
+                                      _Richard III._
+
+
+The new comers were Lawrence and Drummond, who, as will be recollected
+by the reader, were left in Jamestown to watch the proceedings of the
+Governor, and to convey to Bacon any needful intelligence concerning
+them. Although he had, in the first impulse of triumph after receiving
+his commission, confided fully in the promises of the vacillating
+Berkeley, yet, on reflection, Bacon did not rely very implicitly upon
+them. The Governor had once before broken his word in the affair of the
+parole, promising to grant the commission which he craved, upon
+condition of his confession of his former disloyal conduct and his
+promise to amend. Bacon was not the man to be twice deceived, and it did
+not therefore much surprise him to see the two patriots so soon after
+his departure from Jamestown, nor to hear the strange tidings which they
+had come to detail.
+
+“Why, how is this, General?” said Lawrence. “You have had bloody work
+already, it seems; and not without some loss to your own party.”
+
+“Yes, there they lie,” returned Bacon. “God rest their brave souls! But
+being dead, they yet speak—speak to us to avenge their death on the
+bloody savages who have slaughtered them, and to proclaim the insane
+policy of Berkeley in delaying our march against the foe. But what make
+you from Jamestown?”
+
+“Bad news or good, General, as you choose to take it,” replied Lawrence.
+“Berkeley has dissolved the Assembly in a rage, because they supported
+you in your demand of yesterday, and has himself, with his crouching
+minions, retired to Gloucester.”
+
+“To Gloucester!” cried Bacon. “That is indeed news. But what can the old
+dotard mean by such a movement?”
+
+“He has already made known his reasons,” returned Lawrence. “He has
+cancelled your commission, and proclaimed you, and all engaged with you,
+as rebels and traitors.”
+
+“Why, this is infamous!” said Bacon. “Is the old knave such an enemy to
+truth that it cannot live upon his lips for one short day? And who,
+pray, is rash enough to uphold him in his despotism, or base enough to
+screen him in his infamy?”
+
+“It was whispered as we left,” said Drummond, “that a certain Colonel
+Henry Temple had avouched the loyalty of Gloucester, and prevailed upon
+the Governor to make his house his castle, during what he is pleased to
+term this unhappy rebellion.”
+
+“And by my soul,” said Bacon, fiercely, “I will teach this certain
+Colonel Henry Temple the hazard that he runs in thus abetting tyranny
+and villainy. If he would not have his house beat down over his ears, he
+were wise to withdraw his aid and support; else, if his house be a
+castle at all, it is like to be a castle in Spain.”
+
+Hansford, who was an eager listener, as we may suppose, to the foregoing
+conversation, was alarmed at this determination of his impulsive leader.
+He knew too well the obstinate loyalty of Temple to doubt that he would
+resist at every hazard, rather than deliver his noble guest into the
+hands of his enemies. He felt assured, too, that if the report were
+true, Virginia had accompanied her father to Gloucester, and his very
+soul revolted at the idea of her being subjected to the disagreeable
+results which would flow from an attack upon Windsor Hall. The only
+chance of avoiding the difficulty, was to offer his own mediation, and
+in the event, which he foresaw, of Colonel Temple refusing to come to
+terms, he trusted that there was at least magnanimity enough left in the
+old Governor to induce him to seek some other refuge, rather than to
+subject his hospitable and loyal host to the consequences of his
+kindness. There was indeed some danger attending such a mission in the
+present inflamed state of Berkeley's mind. But this, Hansford held at
+naught. Hastily revolving in his mind these thoughts, he ventured to
+suggest to Bacon, that an attack upon Colonel Temple's house would
+result in the worst consequences to the cause of the patriots; that it
+would effect no good, as the Governor might again promise, and again
+recant—and, that it would be difficult to induce his followers to
+embark in an enterprise so foreign to the avowed object of the
+expedition, and against a man whose character was well known, and
+beloved by the people of the Colony.
+
+Bacon calmly heard him through, as though struck with the truth of the
+views he presented, and then added with a sarcastic smile, which stung
+Hansford to the quick, “and moreover, the sight of soldiers and of
+fire-arms might alarm the ladies.”
+
+“And, if such a motive as that did influence my opinion,” said Hansford,
+“I hope it was neither unworthy a soldier or a man.”
+
+“Unworthy alike of both,” replied Bacon, “of a soldier, because the will
+and command of his superior officer should be his only law—and of a
+man, because, in a cause affecting his rights and liberties, any
+sacrifice of feeling should be willingly and cheerfully made.”
+
+“That sacrifice I now make,” said Hansford, vainly endeavouring to
+repress his indignation, “in not retorting more harshly to your
+imputation. The time may yet come when no such sacrifice shall be
+required, and when none, I assure you, shall be made.”
+
+“And, when it comes, young man,” returned Bacon, haughtily, “be assured
+that I will not be backward in affording you an opportunity of defending
+yourself—meantime you are under my command—and will please remember
+that you are so. But, gentlemen,” he continued, turning to the others,
+“what say you to our conduct in these circumstances. Shall we proceed to
+Powhatan, against the enemy of a country to which we are traitors, or
+shall we march on this mendacious old Knight, and once again wipe off
+the stigma which he has placed upon our names?”
+
+“I think,” said Lawrence, after a pause of some moments, “that there is
+a good deal of truth in the views presented by Major Hansford. But,
+could not some middle course be adopted. I don't exactly see how it can
+be effected, but, if the Governor were met by remonstrance of his
+injustice, and informed of our determination to resist it as such, it
+seems to me that he would be forced to recant this last proclamation,
+and all would be well again.”
+
+“And who think you would carry the remonstrance,” said Bacon. “It would
+be about as wise to thrust your head in a lion's mouth, as to trust
+yourself in the hands of the old fanatic. I know not whom we could get
+to bear such a mission,” he added, smiling, “unless our friend Ingram
+there, who having been accustomed to ropes in his youth, if report
+speaks true, need have no fear of them in age.”[38]
+
+“In faith, General,” replied the quondam rope-dancer, “I am only expert
+in managing the cable when it supports my feet. But I have never been
+able to perform the feat of dancing on nothing and holding on by my
+neck.”
+
+“General Bacon,” said Hansford, stepping forward, “I am willing to
+execute your mission to the Governor.”
+
+“My dear boy,” said Bacon, grasping him warmly by the hand, “forgive me
+for speaking so roughly to you just now, I am almost ready to cut my
+tongue out of my head for having said anything to wound your feelings.
+But damn that old treacherous fox, he inflamed me so, that I must have
+let out some of my bad humour or choked in retaining it.”
+
+Hansford returned his grasp warmly, perhaps the more ready to forgive
+and forget, as he saw a prospect of attaining his object in protecting
+the family of his friend from harm.
+
+“But you shall not go,” continued Bacon. “It were madness to venture
+within the clutch of the infuriated old madman.”
+
+“Whatever were the danger,” said Hansford, “this was my proposition, and
+on me devolves the peril, if peril there be in its execution. But there
+is really none. Colonel Temple, although a bigot in his loyalty, is the
+last person to violate the rites of hospitality or to despise a flag of
+truce. And Sir William Berkeley dare not disregard either whilst under
+his roof.”
+
+“Well, so let it be then,” said Bacon, “but I fear that you place too
+much reliance on the good faith of your old friend Temple. Believe me,
+that these Tories hold a doctrine in their political creed, very much
+akin to the Papal doctrine of intolerance. 'Faith towards heretics, is
+infidelity to religion.' But you must at least take some force with
+you.”
+
+“I believe not,” returned our hero, “the presence of an armed force
+would be an insuperable barrier to a reconciliation. I will only take my
+subaltern, Berkenhead, yonder, and that poor old negro, in whose
+liberation I sincerely rejoice. The first will be a companion, and in
+case of danger some protection; and the last, if you choose,” he added
+smiling, “will be a make-peace between the political papist and the
+rebel heretic.”
+
+“Well, God bless you, Hansford,” said Bacon, with much warmth, “and
+above all, forget my haste and unkindness just now. We must learn to
+forgive like old Romans, if we would be valiant like them, and so
+
+    'When I am over-earnest with you, Hansford,
+    You'll think old Berkeley chides, and leave me so.'”
+
+“With all my heart, my noble General,” returned Hansford, laughing, “and
+now for my mission—what shall I say on behalf of treason to his royal
+highness?”
+
+“Tell him,” said Bacon, gravely, “that Nathaniel Bacon, by the grace of
+God, and the special trust and confidence of Sir William Berkeley,
+general-in-chief of the armies of Virginia, desires to know for what act
+of his, since such trust was reposed in him, he and his followers have
+been proclaimed as traitors to their king. Ask him for what reason it is
+that while pursuing the common enemies of the country—while attacking
+in their lairs the wolves and lions of the forest, I, myself, am
+mercilessly assaulted like a savage wild beast, by those whom it is my
+object to defend. Tell him that I require him to retract the
+proclamation he has issued without loss of time, and in the event of his
+refusal, I am ready to assert and defend the rights of freemen by the
+last arbiter between man and man. Lastly, say to him, that I will await
+his answer until two days from this time, and should it still prove
+unfavourable to my demands, then woe betide him.”
+
+Charged with the purport of his mission, Hansford shook Bacon cordially
+by the hand, and proceeded to prepare for his journey. As he was going
+to inform his comrade, old Lawrence gently tapped him on the shoulder,
+and whispered, “Look ye, Tom, I like not the appearance of that fellow
+Berkenhead.”
+
+“He is faithful, I believe,” said Hansford, in the same tone; “a little
+rough and free spoken, perhaps, but I do not doubt his fidelity.”
+
+“I would I were of the same mind,” returned his companion; “but if ever
+the devil set his mark upon a man's face that he might know him on the
+resurrection morning, he did so on that crop-eared Puritan. Tell me,
+aint he the same fellow that got his freedom and two hundred pounds for
+revealing the insurrection of sixty-two?”
+
+“The same, I believe,” said Hansford, carelessly; “but what of that?”
+
+“Why simply this,” said the honest old cavalier, “that faith is like a
+walking-cane. Break it once and you may glue it so that the fracture can
+scarcely be seen by the naked eye; but it will break in the same place
+if there be a strain upon it.”
+
+“I hope you are mistaken,” said Hansford; “but I thank you for your
+warning, and will not disregard it. I will be on my guard.”
+
+“Here, Lawrence,” cried Bacon, “what private message are you sending to
+the Governor, that you must needs be delaying our ambassador? We have a
+sad duty to perform. These brave men, who have fallen in our cause, must
+not be suffered to lie a prey to vultures. Let them be buried as becomes
+brave soldiers, who have died right bravely with their harness on. I
+would there were some one here who could perform the rites of
+burial—but their requiem shall be sung with our song of triumph. Peace
+to their souls! Comrades, prepare their grave, and pay due honour to
+their memory by discharging a volley of musketry over them. I wot they
+well loved the sound while living—nor will they sleep less sweetly for
+it now.”
+
+By such language, and such real or affected interest in the fate of
+those who followed his career, Nathaniel Bacon won the affection of his
+soldiery. Never was there a leader, even in the larger theatres of
+action, more sincerely beloved and worshipped—and to this may be
+attributed in a great degree the wonderful power which he possessed over
+the minds of his followers—moulding their opinions in strict
+conformity with his own; breathing into them something of the ardent
+heroism which inspired his own soul, and making them thus the willing
+and subservient instruments of his own ambitious designs.
+
+With sad countenances the soldiers proceeded to obey the order of their
+general. Scooping with their swords and bayonets a shallow grave in the
+soft virgin soil of the forest, they committed the bodies of their
+comrades to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to
+dust—and as they screened their ashes forever from the light of day,
+the “aisles of the dim woods” echoed back the loud roar of the unheard,
+unheeded honour which they paid to the memory of the dead.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[38] He was in truth a rope-dancer in his early life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+    “But the poor dog, in life the dearest friend,
+    The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
+    Whose honest heart is still his master's own;
+    Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
+    Unhonoured falls, unnoticed all his worth,
+    Denied in heaven the soul he had on earth.”
+                                          _Byron._
+
+
+When the last sad rites of burial had been performed over the grave of
+those who had fallen, Hansford, accompanied by Berkenhead and old Giles,
+proceeded to the discharge of the trust which had been reposed in him.
+It was indeed a mission fraught with the most important consequences to
+the cause of the insurgents, to the family at Windsor Hall, and to
+himself personally. It required both a cool head and a brave heart to
+succeed in its execution. Hansford well knew that the first burst of
+rage from the old Governor, on hearing the bold proposition of the
+rebels, would be dangerous, if not fatal to himself; and with all the
+native boldness of his character, it would be unnatural if he failed to
+feel the greatest anxiety for the result. But even if _he_ escaped the
+vengeance of Berkeley, he feared the impulsive nature of Bacon, in the
+event of the refusal of Sir William to comply with his demands, would
+drive him into excesses ruinous to his cause, and dangerous alike to the
+innocent and the guilty. If Temple's obstinacy and chivalry persisted in
+giving refuge to the Governor, what, he thought, might be the
+consequences to her, whose interest and whose safety he held so deeply
+at heart! Thus the statesman, the lover, and the individual, each had a
+peculiar interest in the result, and Hansford felt like a wise man the
+heavy responsibility he had incurred, although he resolved to encounter
+and discharge it like a bold one.
+
+It was thus, with a heavy heart that he proceeded on his way, and buried
+in these reflections he maintained a moody silence, little regarding the
+presence of his two companions. Old Giles, too, had his own food for
+reflection, and vouchsafed only monosyllables in reply to the questions
+and observations of the loquacious Berkenhead. But the soldier was not
+to be repulsed by the indifference of the one, or the laconic answers of
+the other of his companions. Finding it impossible to engage in
+conversation, he contented himself with soliloquy, and in a low,
+muttering voice, as if to himself, but intended as well for the ears of
+his commander, he began an elaborate comparison of the army of Cromwell,
+in which he had served, and the army of the Virginia insurgents.
+
+“To be sure, they both fought for liberty, but after that there is
+monstrous little likeness between 'em. Old Noll was always acting
+himself, and laying it all to Providence when he was done; while General
+Bacon, cavorting round, first after the Indians and then after the
+Governor, seems hardly to know what he is about, and yet, I believe,
+trusts in Providence at last more than Noll, with all his religion; and,
+faith, it seems to me it took more religion to do him than most any man
+I ever see. First psalm singing, and then fighting, and then psalm
+singing agen, and then more fighting—for all the world like a brick
+house with mortar stuck between. But I trow that it was the fighting
+that made the house stand, after all. And yet I believe, for all the
+saints used to nickname me a sinner, and call me one of the spawn of the
+beast, because I would get tired of the Word sometimes—and, by the same
+token, old brother Purge-the-temple Whithead had a whole dictionary of
+words, much less the one—yet, for all come and gone, I believe I would
+rather hear a long psalm, than to be doomed to solitary confinement to
+my own thoughts, as I am here.”
+
+“And so you have served in old Noll's army, as you call it,” said
+Hansford, smiling in spite of himself, and willing to indulge the old
+Oliverian with some little notice.
+
+“Oh, yes, Major,” replied Berkenhead, delighted to have gained an
+auditor at last; “and a rare service it was too. A little too much of
+what they called the church militant, and the like, for me; but for all
+that the fellows fought like devils, if they did live like saints—and,
+what was rare to me, they did not deal the less lightly with their
+swords for the fervour of their prayers, nor pray the less fervently for
+their enemies after they had raked them with their fire, or hacked them
+to pieces with their swords. 'Faith, an if there had been many more
+battles like Dunbar and Worcester, they had as well have blotted that
+text from their Bible, for precious few enemies did they have to pray
+for after that.”
+
+“You did not agree with these zealots in religion, then,” said Hansford.
+“Prythee, friend, of what sect of Christians are you a member?”
+
+“Well, Major, to speak the truth and shame the devil, as they say, my
+religion has pretty much gone with my sword. As a soldier must change
+his coat whenever he changes his service, so I have thought he should
+make his faith—the robe of his righteousness, as they call it—adapt
+itself to that of his employer.”
+
+“The cloak of his hypocrisy, you mean,” said Hansford, indignantly. “I
+like not this scoffing profanity, and must hear no more of it. He who is
+not true to his God is of a bad material for a patriot. But tell me,” he
+added, seeing that the man seemed sufficiently rebuked, “how came you to
+this colony?”
+
+“Simply because I could not stay in England,” replied Berkenhead. “Mine
+has been a hard lot, Major; for I never got what I wanted in this life.
+If I was predestined for anything, as old Purge-the-temple used to say
+we all were, it seems to me it was to be always on the losing side. When
+I fought for freedom in England, I gained bondage in Virginia for my
+pains; and when I refused to seek my freedom, and betrayed my comrades
+in the insurrection of sixty-two, lo, and behold! I was released from
+bondage for my reward. What I will gain or lose by this present
+movement, I don't know; but I have been an unlucky adventurer thus far.”
+
+“I have heard of your behaviour in sixty-two,” said Hansford, “but
+whether such conduct be laudable or censurable, depends very much upon
+the motive that prompted you to it. You came to this country then as an
+indented servant?”
+
+“Yes, sold, your honour, for the thirty pieces of silver, like Joseph
+was sold into Egypt by his brethren.”
+
+“I suspect that the resemblance between yourself and that eminent
+patriarch ceased with the sale.”
+
+“It is not for me to say, your honour. But in the present unsettled
+state of affairs, who knows who may be made second only to Pharaoh over
+all Egypt? I wot well who will be our Pharaoh, if we gain our point; and
+I have done the state some service, and may yet do her more.”
+
+“By treachery to your comrades, I suppose,” said Hansford, disgusted
+with the conceit and self-complacency of the man.
+
+“Now, look ye here, Major, if I was disposed to be touchy, I might take
+exception at that remark. But I have seen too much of life to fly off at
+the first word. The axe that flies from the helve at the first stroke,
+may be sharp as a grindstone can make it, but it will never cut a tree
+down for all that.”
+
+“And if you were to fly off, as you call it, at the first or the last
+word,” said Hansford, haughtily, “you would only get a sound beating for
+your pains. How dare you speak thus to your superior, you insolent
+knave!”
+
+“No insolence, Major,” said Berkenhead, sulkily; “but for the matter of
+speaking against your honour, I have seen my betters silenced in their
+turn, by their superiors.”
+
+“Silence, slave!” cried Hansford, his face flushing with indignation at
+this allusion to his interview with Bacon, which he had hoped, till now,
+had been unheard by the soldiers. “But come,” he added, reflecting on
+the imprudence of losing his only friend and ally in this perilous
+adventure, “you are a saucy knave, but I suppose I must e'en bear with
+you for the present. We cannot be far from Windsor Hall, I should
+think.”
+
+“About two miles, as I take it, Major,” said Berkenhead, in a more
+respectful manner. “I used to live in Gloucester, not far from the hall,
+and many is the time I have followed my master through these old woods
+in a deer chase. Yes, there is Manteo's clearing, just two miles from
+the hall.”
+
+Scarcely were the words out of the speaker's mouth, when, to the
+surprise of the little party, a large dog of the St. Bernard's breed
+leaped from a thicket near them, and bounded towards Hansford.
+
+“Brest ef it a'ant old Nestor,” said Giles, whose tongue had at length
+been loosened by the sight of the family favourite, and he stooped down
+as he spoke to pat the dog upon the head. But Nestor's object was
+clearly not to be caressed. Frisking about in a most extraordinary
+manner, now wagging his tail, now holding it between his legs, now
+bounding a few steps in front of Hansford's horse, and anon crouching by
+his side and whining most piteously, he at length completed his
+eccentric movements by standing erect upon his hind legs and placing his
+fore feet against the breast of his old master. Struck with this
+singular conduct, Hansford, reining in his horse, cried out, “The poor
+dog must be mad. Down, Nestor, down I tell you!”
+
+Well was it for our hero that the faithful animal refused to obey, for
+just at that moment an arrow was heard whizzing through the air, and the
+noble dog fell transfixed through the neck with the poisoned missile,
+which else had pierced Hansford's heart.[39] The alarm caused by so
+sudden and unexpected an attack had not passed off, before another arrow
+was buried deep in our hero's shoulder. But quick as were the movements
+of the attacking party, the trained eye of Berkenhead caught a glimpse
+of the tall form of an Indian as it vanished behind a large oak tree,
+about twenty yards from where they stood. The soldier levelled his
+carbine, and as Manteo (for the reader has probably already conjectured
+that it was he) again emerged from his hiding place to renew the attack,
+he discharged his piece with deadly aim and effect. With a wild yell of
+horror, the young warrior sprang high in the air, and fell lifeless to
+the ground.
+
+Berkenhead was about to rush forward towards his victim, when Hansford,
+who still retained his seat on the horse, though faint from pain and
+loss of blood, cried out, “Caution, caution, for God's sake, there are
+more of the bloody villains about.” But after a few moments' pause, the
+apprehension of a further attack passed away, and the soldier and Giles
+repaired to the spot. And there in the cold embrace of death, lay the
+brave young Indian, his painted visage reddened yet more by the
+life-blood which still flowed from his wound. His right hand still
+grasped the bow-string, as in his last effort to discharge the fatal
+arrow. A haughty smile curled his lip even in the moment in which the
+soul had fled, as if in that last struggle his brave young heart
+despised the pang of death itself.
+
+Gazing at him for a moment, yet long enough for old Giles to recognize
+the features of Manteo in the bloody corpse, they returned to Hansford,
+whose condition indeed required their immediate assistance. Drawing out
+the arrow, and staunching the blood as well as they could with his
+scarf, Berkenhead bandaged it tightly, and although still in great pain,
+the wounded man was enabled slowly to continue his journey. A ride of
+about half an hour brought the little party to the door of Windsor
+Hall.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[39] An incident somewhat similar to this is on record as having
+actually occurred.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+                  “I'll tell thee truth—
+    Too oft a stranger to the royal ear,
+    But far more wholesome than the honeyed lies
+    That fawning flatterers offer.”
+                        _Any Port in a Storm._
+
+
+Brief as was the time which had elapsed, the old hall presented a
+different appearance to Hansford, from that which it maintained when he
+last left it under such disheartening circumstances. The notable
+mistress of the mansion had spared no pains to prepare for the reception
+of her honoured guest; and, although she took occasion to complain to
+her good husband of his inconsiderate conduct, in foisting all these
+strangers upon her at once, yet she inwardly rejoiced at the opportunity
+it presented for a display of her admirable housewifery. Indeed, the
+ease-loving old Colonel almost repented of his hospitality, amid the
+bustle and hurry, the scolding of servants, and the general bad humour
+which were all necessary incidents to the good dame's preparation.
+Having finally “brought things to something like rights,” as she
+expressed it, her next care was to provide for the entertainment of her
+distinguished guest, which to the mind of the benevolent old lady,
+consisted not in sparkling conversation, or sage counsels, (then, alas!
+much needed by the Governor,) but in spreading a table loaded with a
+superabundance of delicacies to tempt his palate, and cause him to
+forget his troubles. It was a favourite saying of hers, caught up most
+probably in her early life, during the civil war in England, that if the
+stomach was well garrisoned with food, the heart would never capitulate
+to sorrow.
+
+But the truth of this apothegm was not sustained in the present
+instance. Her hospitable efforts, even when united with the genial good
+humour and kindness of her husband were utterly unavailing to dispel the
+gloom which hung over the inmates of Windsor Hall. Sir William Berkeley
+was himself dejected and sad, and communicated his own dejection to all
+around him. Indeed, since his arrival at the Hall, he had found good
+reason to repent his haste in denouncing the popular and gifted young
+insurgent. The pledge made by Colonel Temple of the loyalty of the
+people of Gloucester, had not been redeemed—at least so far as an
+active support of the Governor was concerned. Berkeley's reception by
+them was cold and unpromising. The enthusiasm which he had hoped to
+inspire no where prevailed, and the old man felt himself deserted by
+those whose zealous co-operation he had been led to anticipate. It was
+true that they asserted in the strongest terms their professions of
+loyal devotion, and their willingness to quell the first symptoms of
+rebellion, but they failed to see anything in the conduct of Bacon to
+justify the harsh measures of Berkeley towards him and his followers.
+“Lip-service—lip-service,” said the old Governor, sorrowfully, as their
+decision was communicated to him, “they draw near to me with their
+mouth, and honour me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.”
+But, notwithstanding his disappointment, nothing could shake the proud
+spirit of Berkeley in his inflexible resolution, to resist any
+encroachments on his prerogative; and, so providing his few followers
+with arms from the adjacent fort on York River, he prepared to maintain
+his power and his dignity by the sword.
+
+Such was the state of things on the evening that Thomas Hansford and his
+companions arrived at Windsor Hall. The intelligence of their arrival
+created much excitement, and the inmates of the mansion differed greatly
+in their opinions as to the intention of the young rebel. Poor Mrs.
+Temple, in whose mind fear always predominated over every other feeling,
+felt assured that Hansford had come, attended by another “ruffian,”
+forcibly to abduct Virginia from her home—and a violent fit of
+hysterics was the result of her suspicions. Virginia herself,
+vacillating between hope and fear, trusted, in the simplicity of her
+young, girlish heart, that her lover had repented of his grievous error,
+and had come to claim her love, and to sue to the Governor for pardon.
+Sir William Berkeley saw in the mission of Hansford, a faint hope that
+the rebels, alarmed by his late proclamation, had determined to return
+to their allegiance, and that Hansford was the bearer of a proposition
+to this effect, imploring at the same time the clemency and pardon of
+the government, against which they had so grievously offended.
+
+“And they shall receive mercy, too, at my hands, “said the old knight,
+as a tear glistened in his eye. “They have learned to fear the power of
+the government, and to respect its justice, and they shall now learn to
+love its merciful clemency. God forbid, that I should chasten my
+repenting people, except as children, for their good.”
+
+“Not so fast, my honoured Governor,” said Philip Ludwell, who, with the
+other attendants of Berkeley, had gathered around him in the porch; “you
+may be mistaken in your opinion. I believe—I know—that your wish is
+father to the thought in this matter. But look at the resolution and
+determined bearing of that young man. Is his the face or the bearing of
+a suppliant?”
+
+Ludwell was right. The noble countenance of Hansford, always expressive,
+though sufficiently respectful to the presence which he was about to
+enter, indicated any thing rather than tame submission. His face was
+very pale, and his lip quivered for a moment as he approached the
+anxious crowd of loyalists, who remained standing in the porch, but it
+was at once firmly compressed by the strength of resolution. As he
+advanced, he raised his hat and profoundly saluted the Governor, and
+then drawing himself up to his full height, he stood silently awaiting
+some one to speak. Colonel Temple halted a moment between his natural
+kindness for his friend and his respect for the presence of Sir William
+Berkeley. The first feeling prompted him to rush up to Hansford, and
+greeting him as of old, to give him a cordial welcome to the hall—but
+the latter feeling prevailed. Without advancing, then, he said in a
+tone, in which assumed displeasure strove in vain to overcome his native
+benevolence—
+
+“To what cause am I to attribute this unexpected visit of Mr. Hansford?”
+
+“My business is with Sir William Berkeley,” replied Hansford,
+respectfully, “and I presume I am not mistaken in supposing that I am
+now in his presence.”
+
+“And what would you have from me young man,” said Berkeley, coldly;
+“your late career has estranged you and some of your friends so entirely
+from their Governor, that I feel much honoured by this evidence of your
+returning affection.”
+
+“Both I and my friends, as far as I may speak for them,” returned
+Hansford, in the same calm tone, “have ever been ready and anxious to
+show our devotion to our country and its rulers, and our present career
+to which your excellency has been pleased to allude, is in confirmation
+of the fact. That we have unwittingly fallen under your displeasure,
+sir, I am painfully aware. To ascertain the cause of that displeasure is
+my reason for this intrusion.”
+
+“The cause, young man,” said Berkeley, “is to be found in your own
+conduct, for which, may I hope, you have come for pardon?”
+
+“I regret to say that you are mistaken in your conjecture,” replied
+Hansford. “As it is impossible that our conduct could have invoked your
+displeasure, so it is equally impossible that we should sue for pardon
+for an offence which we have never committed.”
+
+“And, prythee, what then is your worshipful pleasure, fair sir,” said
+Berkeley, ironically; “perhaps, in the abundance of your mercy, you have
+come to grant pardon, if you do not desire it. Nay!” he exclaimed,
+seeing Hansford shake his head; “then, peradventure, you would ask me to
+abdicate my government in favour of young Cromwell. I beg pardon—young
+Bacon, I should say—the similarity of their views is so striking, that
+as my memory is but a poor one, I sometimes confound their names. Well!
+any thing in reason. Nay, again!—well then, I am at a loss to
+conjecture, and you must yourself explain the object of your visit.”
+
+“I would fain convey my instructions to Sir William Berkeley's private
+ear,” said Hansford, unmoved by the irony of the old knight.
+
+“Oh pardon me, fair sir,” said Berkeley; “yet, in this I _must_ crave
+your pardon, indeed. A sovereign would never wittingly trust himself
+alone with a rebel, and neither will I, though only an obscure colonial
+Governor. There are none but loyal ears here, and I trust Mr. Hansford
+has no tidings which can offend them.”
+
+“I am sure,” said Hansford, in reply, “that Sir William Berkeley does
+not for a moment suspect that I desired to see him in private from any
+sinister or treasonable motive.”
+
+“I know, sir,” said Berkeley, angrily, “that you have proved yourself a
+traitor, and, therefore, I have the best reason for suspecting you of
+treasonable designs. But I have no time—no disposition to dally with
+you thus. Tell me, what new treason, that my old ears are yet strangers
+to, I am yet doomed to hear?”
+
+“My instructions are soon told,” said Hansford, repressing his
+indignation. “General Nathaniel Bacon, by virtue of your own commission,
+Commander-in-chief of the forces of Virginia, desires to know, and has
+directed me to inquire, for what cause you have issued a proclamation
+declaring both him and his followers traitors to their country and
+king?”
+
+Berkeley stood the shock much better than Hansford expected. His face
+flushed for a moment, but only for a moment, as he replied,—
+
+“This is certainly an unusual demand of a rebel; but sir, as I have
+nothing to fear from an exposure of my reasons, I will reply, that
+Nathaniel Bacon is now in arms against the government of Virginia.”
+
+“Not unless the government of Virginia be allied with the Indians,
+against whom he is marching,” said Hansford, calmly.
+
+“Aye, but it is well known,” returned Berkeley, “that he has covert
+views of his own to attain, under pretext of this expedition against the
+Indians.”
+
+“Why, then,” replied Hansford, “if they are covert from his own
+followers, proclaim them traitors with himself; or, if covert from the
+government, how can you ascertain that they are treasonable? But, above
+all, if you suspected such traitorous designs, why, by your commission,
+elevate him to a position in which he may be able to execute them with
+success?”
+
+“'Fore God, gentlemen, this is the most barefaced insolence that I have
+ever heard. For yourself, young man, out of your own mouth will I judge
+you, and convict you of treason; and for your preceptor—whose lessons,
+I doubt not, you repeat by rote—you may tell him that his commission is
+null and void, because obtained by force and arms.”
+
+“I had not expected to hear Sir William Berkeley make such an
+acknowledgment,” returned Hansford, undauntedly. “You yourself declared
+that the commission was not given from fear of threats; and even if this
+were not so, the argument would scarce avail—for on what compulsion
+was it that your signature appears in a letter to his majesty, warmly
+approving the conduct of General Bacon, and commending him for his zeal,
+talents and patriotism?”[40]
+
+“Now, by my knighthood,” said Berkeley, stung by this last unanswerable
+argument, “I will not be bearded thus by an insolent, braggart boy.
+Seize him!” he cried, turning to Bernard and Ludwell, who stood nearest
+him. “He is my prisoner, and as an example to his vile confederates, he
+shall hang in half an hour, until his traitorous tongue has stopped its
+vile wagging.”
+
+Hansford made no attempt to escape, but, as the two men approached to
+disarm and bind him, he fixed his fine blue eyes full upon Colonel
+Temple, and said, mildly,
+
+“Shall this be so? Though Sir William Berkeley should fail to respect my
+position, as the bearer of a peaceable message from General Bacon, I
+trust that the rites of hospitality may not be violated, even in my
+humble person.”
+
+Colonel Temple was much embarrassed. Notwithstanding the recent conduct
+of Hansford had alienated him to a great degree, he still entertained a
+strong affection for his boy—nor could he willingly see him suffer a
+wrong when he had thus so confidingly trusted to his generosity. But,
+apart from his special interest in Hansford, the old Virginian had a
+religious regard for the sacred character of a guest, which he could
+never forget. And yet, his blind reverence for authority—the bigoted
+loyalty which has always made the English people so cautious in
+resistance to oppression, and which retarded indeed our own colonial
+revolution—made him unwilling to oppose his character of host to the
+authority of the Governor. He looked first at Sir William Berkeley, and
+his resolution was made; he turned to Hansford, and as he saw his noble
+boy standing resolutely there, without a friend to aid him, it wavered.
+The poor old gentleman was sadly perplexed, but, after a brief struggle,
+his true, generous heart conquered, and he said, turning to Sir William:
+
+“My honoured sir, I trust you will not let this matter proceed any
+further here. My house, my life, my all, is at the service of the king
+and of his representative; but I question how far we are warranted in
+proceeding to extremities with this youth, seeing that although he is
+rather froward and pert in his manners, he may yet mean well after all.”
+
+“Experience should have taught me,” replied Berkeley, coldly, for his
+evil genius was now thoroughly aroused, “not to place too much
+confidence in the loyalty of the people of Gloucester. If Colonel
+Temple's resolution to aid the crumbling power of the government has
+wavered at the sight of a malapert and rebellious boy, I had better
+relieve him of my presence, which must needs have become irksome to
+him.”
+
+“Nay, Sir William,” returned Temple, reddening at the imputation, “you
+shall not take my language thus. Let the youth speak for himself; if he
+breathes a word of treason, his blood be on his own head—my hand nor
+voice shall be raised to save him. But I am unable to construe any thing
+which he has yet said as treasonable.” Then turning to Hansford, he
+added, “speak, Mr. Hansford, plainly and frankly. What was your object
+in thus coming? Were you sent by General Bacon, or did you come
+voluntarily?”
+
+“Both,” replied Hansford, with a full appreciation of the old man's
+unfortunate position. “It was my proposition that some officer of the
+army should wait upon the Governor, and ascertain the truth of his
+rumoured proclamation. I volunteered to discharge the duty in person.”
+
+“And in the event of your finding it to be true,” said Berkeley,
+haughtily, “what course did you then intend to pursue?”
+
+This was a dangerous question; for Hansford knew that to express the
+design of the insurgents in such an event, would be little less than a
+confession of treason. But he had a bold heart, and without hesitation,
+but still maintaining his respectful manner, he replied,—
+
+“I might evade an answer to your question, by saying, that it would then
+be time enough to consider and determine our course. But I scorn to do
+so, even when my safety is endangered. I answer candidly then, that in
+such an event the worst consequences to the country and to yourself
+would ensue. It was to prevent these consequences, and as far as I could
+to intercede in restoring peace and quiet to our distracted colony, that
+I came to implore you to withdraw this proclamation. Otherwise, sir, the
+sword of the avenger is behind you, and within two days from this time
+you will be compelled once more to yield to a current that you cannot
+resist. Comply with my request, and peace and harmony will once more
+prevail; refuse, and let who will triumph, the unhappy colony will be
+involved in all the horrors of civil war.”
+
+There was nothing boastful in the manner of Hansford, as he uttered
+these words. On the contrary, his whole bearing, while it showed
+inflexible determination, attested his sincerity in the wish that the
+Governor, for the good of the country, would yield to the suggestion.
+Nor did Sir William Berkeley, in spite of his indignation, fail to see
+the force and wisdom of the views presented; but he had too much pride
+to acknowledge it to an inferior.
+
+“Now, by my troth,” he cried, “if this be not treason, I am at a loss to
+define the term. I should think this would satisfy even your scepticism,
+Colonel Temple; for it seems we must consult you in regard to our course
+while under your roof. You would scarcely consent, I trust, to a
+self-convicted traitor going at large.”
+
+“Of course you act in the premises, according to your own judgment,”
+replied Temple, coldly, for he was justly offended at the overbearing
+manner of the incensed old Governor, “but since you have appealed to me
+for my opinion, I will e'en make bold to say, that as this young man
+came in the character of an intercessor, you might well be satisfied
+with his parole. I will myself be surety for his truth.”
+
+“Parole, forsooth, and do you not think I have had enough of paroles
+from these rebel scoundrels—zounds, their faith is like an egg-shell,
+it is made to be broken.”
+
+“With my sincere thanks to my noble friend,” said Hansford, “for his
+obliging offer, I would not accept it if I could. Unconscious of having
+done any thing to warrant this detention, I am not willing to
+acknowledge its justice, by submitting to a qualified imprisonment.”
+
+“It is well,” said Berkeley, haughtily; “we will see whether your pride
+is proof against an ignominious death. Disarm him and hold him in close
+custody until my farther pleasure shall be known.”
+
+As he said this, Hansford was disarmed, and led away under a strong
+guard to the apartment which Colonel Temple reluctantly designated as
+the place of his confinement.
+
+Meantime Berkenhead had remained at the gate, guarded by two of the
+soldiers of the Governor; while old Giles, with a light heart, had found
+his way back to his old stand by the kitchen door, and was detailing to
+his astonished cronies the unlucky ventures, and the providential
+deliverance, which he had experienced. But we must forbear entering into
+a detailed account of the old man's sermon, merely contenting ourselves
+with announcing, that such was the effect produced, that at the next
+baptizing day, old Elder Snivel was refreshed by a perfect pentecost of
+converts, who attributed their “new birf” to the wrestling of “brudder
+Giles.”
+
+We return to Berkenhead, who, at the command of Col. Ludwell, was
+escorted, under the guard before mentioned, into the presence of Sir
+William Berkeley. The dogged and insolent demeanour of the man was even
+more displeasing to the Governor than the quiet and resolute manner of
+Hansford, and in a loud, threatening voice, he cried,
+
+“Here comes another hemp-pulling knave. 'Fore God, the colony will have
+to give up the cultivation of tobacco, and engage in raising hemp, for
+we are like to have some demand for it. Hark ye, sir knave—do you know
+the nature of the message which you have aided in bearing from the
+traitor Bacon to myself?”
+
+“Not I, your honour—no more than my carbine knows whether it is loaded
+or not. It's little the General takes an old soldier like me into his
+counsels; but I only know it is my duty to obey, if I were sent to the
+devil with a message,” and the villain looked archly at the Governor.
+
+“Your language is something of the most insolent,” said Sir William.
+“But tell me instantly, did you have no conversation with Major Hansford
+on your way hither, and if so, what was it?”
+
+“Little else than abuse, your honour,” returned Berkenhead, “and a
+threat that I would be beat over the head if I didn't hold my tongue;
+and as I didn't care to converse at such a disadvantage, I was e'en
+content to keep my own counsel for the rest of the way.”
+
+“Do you, or do you not, consider Bacon and his followers to be engaged
+in rebellion against the government?”
+
+“Rebellion, your honour!” cried the renegade. “Why, was it not your
+honour's self that sent us after these salvages? An' I thought there was
+any other design afloat, I would soon show them who was the rebel. It is
+not the first time that I have done the State some service by betraying
+treason.”
+
+“Look ye,” said the Governor, eyeing the fellow keenly, “if I mistake
+not, you are an old acquaintance. Is your name Berkenhead?”
+
+“The same, at your honour's service.”
+
+“And didn't you betray the servile plot of 1662, and get your liberty
+and a reward for it?”
+
+“Yes, your honour, but I wouldn't have you think that it was for the
+reward I did it?”
+
+“Oh, never mind your motives. If you are Judas, you are welcome to your
+thirty pieces of silver,” said the Governor, with a sneer of contempt.
+“But to make the analogy complete, you should be hanged for your
+service.”
+
+“No, faith,” said the shrewd villain, quickly. “Judas hanged himself,
+and it would be long ere ever I sought the apostle's elder tree.[41] And
+besides, his was the price of innocent blood, and mine was not. Look at
+my hand, your honour, and you will see what kind of blood I shed.”
+
+Berkeley looked at the fellow's hand, and saw it stained with the
+crimson life-blood of the young Indian. With a thrill of horror, he
+cried, “What blood is that, you infernal villain?”
+
+“Only fresh from the veins of one of these painted red-skins,” returned
+Berkenhead. “And red enough he was when I left him; but, forsooth, he
+reckons that the paint cost him full dear. He left his mark on Major
+Hansford, though, before he left.”
+
+“Where did this happen?” said Berkeley, astonished.
+
+“Oh, not far from here. The red devil was a friend at the hall here,
+too, or as much so as their bloody hearts will let any of them be.
+Colonel Temple, there, knows him, and I have seen him when I lived in
+Gloucester. A fine looking fellow, too; and if his skin and his heart
+had been both white, there would have been few better and braver
+dare-devils than young Manteo.”
+
+As he pronounced the name, a wild shriek rent the air, and the
+distracted Mamalis rushed into the porch. Her long hair was all
+dishevelled and flying loosely over her shoulders, her eye was that of a
+maniac in his fury, and tossing her bare arms aloft, she shrieked, in a
+wild, harsh voice,
+
+“And who are you, that dare to spill the blood of kings? Look to it that
+your own flows not less freely in your veins.”
+
+Berkenhead turned pale with fright, and shrinking from the enraged girl,
+muttered, “the devil!”—while Temple, in a low voice, whispered to the
+Governor the necessary explanation, “She is his sister.”
+
+“Yes, his sister!” cried the girl, wildly, for she had overheard the
+words. “His only sister!—and my blood now flows in no veins but my own.
+But the stream runs more fiercely as the channel is more narrow. Look to
+it—look to it!” And, with another wild shriek, the maddened girl rushed
+again into the house. It required all the tender care of Virginia Temple
+to pacify the poor creature. She reasoned, she prayed, she endeavoured
+to console her; but her reasons, her prayers, her sweet words of
+consolation, were all lost upon the heart of the Indian maiden, who
+nourished but one fearful, fatal idea—revenge!
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[40] This was indeed true, and renders the conduct of Berkeley entirely
+inexplicable.
+
+[41] The name given to the tree on which Judas hanged himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+    “His flight was madness.”
+                      _Macbeth._
+
+
+Yes, Virginia! She who had so much reason for consolation herself,
+forgot her own sorrows for the time, in administering the oil of
+consolation to the poor, wounded, broken-hearted savage girl. She had
+been sitting at the window of the little parlour, where she could
+witness the whole scene, and hear the whole interview between the
+Governor and Hansford; and oh! how her heart had sunk within her as she
+heard the harsh sentence of the stern old knight, which condemned her
+noble, friendless lover to imprisonment, perhaps to death; and yet, a
+maiden modesty restrained her from yielding to the impulse of the
+moment, to throw herself at the feet of Berkeley, confess her love, and
+implore his pardon. Alas! ill-fated maiden, it would have been in
+vain—as she too truly, too fatally discovered afterwards.
+
+The extraordinary appearance and conduct of Mamalis broke up for the
+present any further conference with Berkenhead, who—his mendacity
+having established his innocence in the minds of the loyalists—walked
+off with a swaggering gait, rather elated than otherwise with the result
+of his interview. Alfred Bernard followed him until they turned an angle
+of the house, and stood beneath the shade of one of the broad oaks,
+which spread its protecting branches over the yard.
+
+Meantime the Governor, with such of his council as had attended him to
+Windsor Hall, retired to the study of the old Colonel, which had been
+fitted up both for the chamber of his most distinguished guest and for
+the deliberations of the council. The subject which now engaged their
+attention was one of more importance than any that had ever come before
+them since the commencement of the dissensions in Virginia. The mission
+of Hansford, while it had failed of producing the effect which he so
+ardently desired, had, notwithstanding, made a strong impression upon
+the mind of the Governor. He saw too plainly that it would be vain to
+resist the attack of Bacon, at the head of five hundred men, among whom
+were to be ranked the very chivalry of Virginia; while his own force
+consisted merely of his faithful adherents in the council, and about
+fifty mercenary troops, whose sympathies with the insurgents were
+strongly suspected.
+
+“I see,” said the old man, gloomily, as he took his seat at the
+council-board, “that I must seek some other refuge. I am hunted like a
+wild beast from place to place, through a country that was once my own,
+and by those who were once the loving subjects of my king.”
+
+“Remain here!” said the impulsive old Temple. “The people of Gloucester
+will yet rally around your standard, when they see open treason is
+contemplated; and should they still refuse, zounds, we may yet offer
+resistance with my servants and slaves.”
+
+“My dear friend,” said Berkeley, sorrowfully, “if all Virginians were
+like yourself, there would have been no rebellion—there would have been
+no difficulty in suppressing one, if attempted. But alas! the loyalty of
+the people of Gloucester has already been weighed in the balance and
+found wanting. No, I have acted hastily, foolishly, blindly. I have
+warmed this serpent into life by my forbearance and indulgence, and must
+at last be the victim of its venom and my folly. Oh! that I had refused
+the commission, which armed this traitor with legal power. I have put a
+sword into the hands of an enemy, and may be the first to fall by it.”
+
+“It is useless to repine over the past,” said Philip Ludwell, kindly;
+“but the power of these rebels cannot last long. The people who are
+loyal at heart will fall from their support, and military aid will be
+received from England ere long. Then the warmed reptile may be crushed.”
+
+“To my mind,” said Ballard, “it were better to repair the evil that has
+been done by retracing our steps, rather than to proceed further. When a
+man is over his depth, he had better return to the shore than to attempt
+to cross the unfathomable stream.”
+
+“Refrain from enigmas, if you please,” said Berkeley, coldly, “and tell
+me to what you refer.”
+
+“Simply,” replied Ballard, firmly, “that all this evil has resulted from
+your following the jesuitical counsel of a boy, rather than the prudent
+caution of your advisers. My honoured sir, forgive me if I say it is now
+your duty to acquiesce in the request of Major Hansford, and withdraw
+your proclamation.”
+
+“And succumb to traitors!” cried Berkeley. “Never while God gives me
+breath to reiterate it. He who would treat with a traitor, is himself
+but little better than a traitor.”
+
+The flush which mounted to the brow of Ballard attested his indignation
+at this grave charge; but before he had time to utter the retort which
+rose to his lips, Berkeley added,
+
+“Forgive me, Ballard, for my haste. But the bare idea of making terms
+with these audacious rebels roused my very blood. No, no! I can die in
+defence of my trust, but I cannot, will not yield it.”
+
+“But it is not yielding,” said Ballard.
+
+“Nay—no more of that,” interrupted Berkeley; “let us devise some other
+means. I have it,” he added, after a pause. “Accomac is still true to
+my interest, and divided from the mainland by the bay, is difficult of
+access. There will I pitch my tent, and sound my defiance—and when aid
+shall come from England, these proud and insolent traitors shall feel
+the power of my vengeance the more for this insult to my weakness.”
+
+This scheme met with the approbation of all present, with the exception
+of old Ballard, who shook his head, and muttered, that he hoped it might
+all be for the best. And so it was determined that early the next
+morning the loyal refugees should embark on board a vessel then lying
+off Tindal's Point, and sail for Accomac.
+
+“And we will celebrate our departure by hanging up that young rogue,
+Hansford, in half an hour,” said Berkeley.
+
+“By what law, may it please your excellency?” asked Ballard, surprised
+at this threat.
+
+“By martial law.”
+
+“And for what offence?”
+
+“Why zounds, Ballard, you have turned advocate-general for all the
+rebels in the country,” said Berkeley, petulantly.
+
+“No, Sir William, I am advocating the cause of justice and of my king.”
+
+“Well, sir, what would you advise? To set the rogue at liberty, I
+suppose, and by our leniency to encourage treason.”
+
+“By no means,” said Ballard. “But either to commit him to custody until
+he may be fairly tried by a jury of his peers, or to take him with you
+to Accomac, where, by further developments of this insurrection, you may
+better judge of the nature of his offence.”
+
+“And a hospitable reception would await me in Accomac, forsooth, if I
+appeared there with a prisoner of war, whom I did not have the firmness
+to punish as his crime deserves. No, by heaven! I will not be encumbered
+with prisoners. His life is forfeit to the law, and as he would prove
+an apostle of liberty, let him be a martyr to his cause.”
+
+“Let me add my earnest intercession to that of Colonel Ballard,” said
+Temple, “in behalf of this unhappy man. I surely have some claim upon
+your benevolence, and I ask his life as a personal boon to me.”
+
+“Oh, assuredly, since you rely upon your hospitable protection to us,
+you should have your fee,” said Berkeley, with a sneer. “But not in so
+precious a coin as a rebel's life. If you have suffered by the
+protection afforded to the deputy of your king, you shall not lack
+remuneration. But the coin shall be the head of Carolus II.;[42] this
+rebel's head I claim as my own.”
+
+“Now, by heaven!” returned Temple, thoroughly aroused, “it requires all
+my loyalty to stomach so foul an insult. My royal master's exchequer
+could illy remunerate me for the gross language heaped upon me by his
+deputy. But let this pass. You are my guest, sir; and that I cannot
+separate the Governor from the man, I am prevented from resenting an
+insult, which else I could but little brook.”
+
+“As you please, mine host,” replied Berkeley. “But, in truth, I have
+wronged you, Temple. But think, my friend, of the pang the shepherd must
+feel, when he finds that he has let a wolf into his fold, which he is
+unable to resist. Oh, think of this, and bear with me!”
+
+Temple knew the old Governor too well to doubt the sincerity of this
+retraxit, and with a cordial grasp of the hand, he assured Berkeley of
+his forgiveness. “And yet,” he added, warmly, “I cannot forget the cause
+I advocate, for this first rebuff. Believe me, Sir William, you will
+gain nothing, but lose much, by proceeding harshly against this unhappy
+young man. In the absence of any evidence of his guilt, you will arouse
+the indignation of the colonists to such a height, that it will be
+difficult to pacify them.”
+
+“Pardon me, Sir William Berkeley,” said Bernard, who had joined the
+party, “but would it not be well to examine this knave, Berkenhead,
+touching the movements and intentions of the insurgents, and
+particularly concerning any expressions which may have fallen from this
+young gentleman? If it shall appear that he is guiltless of the crime
+imputed to him, then you may safely yield to the solicitations of these
+gentlemen, and liberate him. But if it shall appear that he is guilty,
+they, in their turn, cannot object to his meeting the penalty which his
+treason richly deserves.”
+
+“Now, by heaven, the young man speaks truthfully and wisely,” said
+Temple, assured, by the former interview with Berkenhead, that he knew
+of nothing which could convict the prisoner. “Nor do I see, Sir William,
+what better course you can adopt than to follow his counsel.”
+
+“Truly,” said Berkeley, “the young man has proven himself the very Elihu
+of counsellors. 'Great men are not always wise, neither do the aged
+understand judgment. But there is a spirit in man, and the inspiration
+of the Almighty giveth them understanding.' Yet I fear, Colonel Temple,
+you will scarcely, after my impetuosity just now, deem me a Job for
+patience, though Alfred may be an Elihu for understanding. Your counsel
+is good, young man. Let the knave be brought hither to testify, and look
+ye that the prisoner be introduced to confront him. My friends, Ballard
+and Temple, are such sticklers for law, that we must not deviate from
+Magna Charta or the Petition of Right. But stay, we will postpone this
+matter till the morrow. I had almost forgotten it was the Sabbath. Loyal
+churchmen should venerate the day, even when treason is abroad in the
+land. Meantime, let the villain Berkenhead be kept in close custody,
+lest he should escape.”
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[42] The coin during the reign of Charles II.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+    “I tell thee what, my friend,
+    He is a very serpent in my way.”
+                            _King John._
+
+
+The reader will naturally desire to know what induced the milder counsel
+recommended by Alfred Bernard to the Governor. If we have been
+successful in impressing upon the mind of the reader a just estimate of
+the character of the young jesuit, he will readily conjecture that it
+was from no kindly feeling for his rival, and no inherent love of
+justice that he suggested such a policy; and if he be of a different
+opinion, he need only go back with us to the interview between Bernard
+and Berkenhead, to which allusion was made in the chapter immediately
+preceding the last.
+
+We have said that Alfred Bernard followed the renegade rebel until they
+stood together beneath a large oak tree which stood at the corner of the
+house. Here they stopped as if by mutual, though tacit consent, and
+Berkenhead turning sharply around upon his companion, said in an
+offended tone—“What is your further will with me sir?”
+
+“You seem not to like your comrade Major Hansford?”
+
+“Oh well enough,” replied Berkenhead; “there are many better and many
+worse than him. But I don't see how the likes and the dislikes of a poor
+soldier can have any concernment with you.”
+
+“I assure you,” said Bernard, “it is from no impertinent curiosity, but
+a real desire to befriend you, that I ask the question. The Governor
+strongly suspects your integrity, and that you are concealing from him
+more than it suits you to divulge. Now, I would do you a service and
+advise you how you may reinstate yourself in his favour.”
+
+“Well, that seems kind on the outside,” said the soldier, “seeing as you
+seems to be one of the blooded gentry, and I am nothing but a plain
+Dunstable.[43] But rough iron is as soft as polished steel.”
+
+“I believe you,” said Bernard. “Now you have not much reason to waste
+your love on this Major Hansford. He threatened to beat you, as you say,
+and a freeborn Englishman does not bear an insult like that with
+impunity.”
+
+
+“No, your honour,” replied the man, “and I've known the day when a
+Plymouth cloak[44] would protect me from insult as well as a frieze coat
+from cold. But I am too old for that now, and so I had better swallow an
+insult dry, than butter it with my own marrow.”
+
+“And are there not other modes of revenge than by a blow? Where are your
+wits, man? What makes the man stronger than the horse that carries him?
+I tell you, a keen wit is to physical force what your carbine is to the
+tomahawk of these red-skins. It fires at a distance.”
+
+The old soldier looked up with a gleam of intelligence, and Bernard
+continued—
+
+“Bethink you, did you hear nothing from Hansford by which you might
+infer that his ultimate design was to overturn the government?”
+
+“Why I can't exactly say that I did,” returned the fellow. “To be sure
+they all prate about liberty and the like, but I reckon that is an
+Englishman's privilege, providing he takes it out in talking. But there
+may be fire in the bed-straw for all my ignorance.”[45]
+
+“Well, I am sorry for you,” said Bernard, “for if you could only
+remember any thing to convict this young rebel, I would warrant you a
+free pardon and a sound neck.”
+
+“Well, now, as I come to think of it,” said the unscrupulous renegade,
+“there might be some few things he let drop, not much in themselves, but
+taken together, as might weave a right strong tow; and zounds, I don't
+think a man can be far wrong to untwist the rope about his own neck by
+tying it to another. For concerning of life, your honour, while I have
+no great care to risk it in battle, I don't crave to choke it out with
+one of these hemp cravats. And so being as I have already done the state
+some service, I feel it my duty to save her if I can.”
+
+“Now, thanks to that catch-word of the rogue,” muttered Bernard, “I am
+like to have easy work to-night. Hark ye, Mr. Berkenhead,” he added,
+aloud, “I think it is likely that the Governor may wish to ask you a
+question or two touching this matter of which we have been speaking. In
+the meantime here is something which may help you to get along with
+these soldiers,” and he placed a sovereign in the fellow's hand.
+
+“Thank your honour,” said Berkenhead, humbly, “and seeing its not in the
+way of bribe, I suppose I may take it.”
+
+“Oh, no bribe,” replied Bernard, smiling, “but mark me, tell a good
+story. The stronger your evidence the safer is your head.”
+
+Bernard returned, as we have seen, to the Governor, for the further
+development of his diabolical designs, and in a short time Berkenhead,
+under a guard of soldiers, was conducted to his quarters for the night,
+in a store-house which stood in the yard some distance from the house.
+
+As the house to which the renegade insurgent was consigned was deemed
+sufficiently secure, and the soldiers wearied with a long march, were
+again to proceed on their journey on the morrow, it was not considered
+necessary to place a guard before the door of this temporary cell—the
+precaution, however, being taken to appoint a sentry at each side of the
+mansion-house, and at the door of the apartment in which the unhappy
+Hansford was confined.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[43] An old English expression for a rough, honest fellow.
+
+[44] A bludgeon.
+
+[45] There may be danger in the design.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+    “Ha! sure he sleeps—all's dark within save what
+    A lamp, that feebly lifts a sickly flame,
+    By fits reveals. His face seems turned to favour
+    The attempt. I'll steal and do it unperceived.”
+                                        _Mourning Bride._
+
+
+All were wrapt in silence and in slumber, save the weary sentinels, who
+paced drowsily up and down before the door of the house, humming in a
+low tone the popular Lillibullero, or silently communing with their
+brother sentry in the sky. The family, providing for the fatigues of the
+following day, had early retired to rest, and even Virginia, worn down
+by excitement and agitation, having been assured by her father of the
+certain safety of Hansford, had yielded to the restoring influences of
+sleep. How little did the artless girl, or her unsuspicious father,
+suppose that beneath their roof they had been cherishing a demon, who,
+by his wily machinations, was weaving a web around his innocent victim,
+cruel and inextricable.
+
+We have said that all save the watchful sentinels were sleeping; but one
+there was from whose eyes and from whose heart revenge had driven sleep.
+Mamalis—the poor, hapless Mamalis—whose sorrows had been forgotten in
+the general excitement which had prevailed—Mamalis knew but one
+thought, and that was no dream. Her brother, the pride and refuge of
+her maiden heart, lay stiff and murdered by the way-side—his death
+unwept, his dirge unsung, his brilliant hopes of fame cut off ere they
+had fully budded. And his murderer was near her! Could she hesitate? Had
+she not been taught, in her simple faith, that the blood of the victim
+requires the blood of his destroyer? The voice of her brother's blood
+called to her from the ground. Nor did it call in vain. It is true, he
+had been harsh, nay sometimes even cruel to her, but when was woman's
+heart, when moved to softness, ever mindful of the wrongs she had
+endured? Ask yourself, when standing by the lifeless corse of one whom
+you have dearly loved, if then you can remember aught but kindness, and
+love, and happiness, in your association with the loved one. One gentle
+word, one sweet smile, one generous action, though almost faded from the
+memory before, obscures forever all the recollection of wrongs inflicted
+and injuries endured.
+
+She was in the room occupied by Virginia Temple. Oh, what a contrast
+between the two! Yes, there they were—Revenge and Innocence! The one
+lay pure and beautiful in sleep; her round, white arm thrown back upon
+the pillow, to form a more snowy resting place for her lovely cheek.
+From beneath her cap some tresses had escaped, which, happy in release,
+were sporting in the soft air that wooed them through the open window.
+Her face, at other times too spiritually pale, was now slightly flushed
+by the sultry warmth of the night. A smile of peaceful happiness played
+around her lips, as she dreamed, perhaps, of some wild flower ramble
+which in happier days she had had with Hansford. Her snowy bosom, which
+in her restlessness she had nearly bared, was white and swelling as a
+wave which plays in the calm moonlight. Such was the beautiful being who
+lay sleeping calmly in the arms of Innocence, while the dark, but not
+less striking, form of the Indian girl bent over, to discover if she
+slept. She was dressed as we have before described, with the short
+deer-skin smock, extending to her knees, and fitted closely round the
+waist with a belt of wampum. Her long black hair was bound by a simple
+riband, and fell thickly over her shoulders in dark profusion. In her
+left hand she held a lamp, and it was fearful to mark, by its faint,
+glimmering light, the intense earnestness of her countenance. There were
+some traces of tears upon her cheek, but these were nearly dried. Her
+bright black eyes were lighted by a strange, unnatural fire, which they
+never knew before. It seemed as though you might see them in the dark.
+In her right hand she held a small dagger, which _he_ had given her as a
+pledge of a brother's love. Fit instrument to avenge a brother's death!
+
+She seemed to be listening and watching to hear or see the slightest
+movement from the slumbering maiden. But all was still!
+
+“I slept not thus,” she murmured, “the night I heard him vow his
+vengeance against your father. Before the birds had sung their morning
+song I came to warn you. Now all I loved, my country, my friends, my
+brother, have gone forever, and none shares the tears of the Indian
+maiden.”
+
+She turned away with a sigh from the bedside of Virginia, and carefully
+replaced the dagger in her belt. She then took a key which was lying on
+the table and clutched it with an air of triumph. That key she had
+stolen from the pocket of Alfred Bernard while he slept—for what will
+not revenge, and woman's revenge, dare to do. Then taking up a water
+pitcher, and extinguishing the light, she softly left the room.
+
+As she endeavoured to pass the outer door she was accosted by the hoarse
+voice of the sentinel—“Who comes there?” he cried.
+
+“A friend,” she answered, timidly.
+
+“You cannot pass, friend, without a permit from the Governor. Them's his
+orders.”
+
+“I go to bring some water for the sick maiden,” she said earnestly,
+showing him the pitcher. “She is far from well. Let her not suffer for a
+draught of water.”
+
+“Well,” said the pliant soldier, yielding; “you are a good pleader,
+pretty one. That dark face of yours looks devilish well by moonlight.
+What say you; if I let you pass, will you come and sit with me when you
+get back? It's damned lonesome out here by myself.”
+
+“I will do any thing you wish when I return,” said the girl.
+
+“Easily won, by Wenus,” said the gallant soldier, as he permitted
+Mamalis to pass on her supposed errand.
+
+Freed from this obstruction, she glided rapidly through the yard, and
+soon stood before the door of the small house which she had learned was
+appropriated as the prison of Berkenhead. Turning the key softly in the
+lock, she pulled the latch-string and gently opened the door. A flood of
+moonlight streamed upon the floor, encumbered with a variety of
+plantation utensils. By the aid of this light Mamalis soon recognized
+the form and features of the fated Berkenhead, who was sleeping in one
+corner of the room. She knelt over him and feasted her eyes with the
+anticipation of her deep revenge. Fearing to be defeated in her design,
+for with her it was the foiled attempt and “not the act which might
+confound,” she bared his bosom and sought his heart. The motion startled
+the sleeping soldier. “The devil,” he said, half opening his eyes; “its
+damned light.” Just as he pronounced the last word the fatal dagger of
+Mamalis found its way into his heart. “It is all dark now,” she said,
+bitterly, and rising from her victim, she glided through the door and
+left him with his God.
+
+With the native shrewdness of her race, Mamalis did not forget that she
+had still to play a part, and so without returning directly to the
+house, she repaired to the well and filled her pitcher. She even offered
+the sentinel a drink as she repassed him on her return, and promising
+once more to come back, when she had carried the water to the “sick
+maiden,” she stole quietly into the room occupied by Bernard, replaced
+the key in his pocket as before, and hastened up stairs again.
+
+And there seated once more by the bedside of the sleeping Virginia, the
+young Indian girl sang, in a low voice, at once her song of triumph and
+her brother's dirge, in that rich oriental improvisation for which the
+Indians were so remarkable. We will not pretend to give in the original
+words of this beautiful requiem, but furnish the reader, in default of a
+better, with the following free translation, which may give some faint
+idea of its beauty:—
+
+“They have plucked the flower from the garden of my heart, and have torn
+the soil where it tenderly grew. He was bright and beautiful as the
+bounding deer, and the shaft from his bow was as true as his unchanging
+soul! Rest with the Great Spirit, soul of my brother!
+
+“The Great Spirit looked down in pity on my brother; Manitou has
+snatched him from the hands of the dreadful Okee. On the shores of the
+spirit-land, with the warriors of his tribe he sings the song of his
+glory, and chases the spirit deer over the immaterial plains! Rest with
+the Great Spirit, soul of my brother!
+
+“But I, his sister, am left lonely and desolate; the hearth-stone of
+Mamalis is deserted. Yet has my hand sought revenge for his murder, and
+my bosom exults over the destruction of his destroyer! Rest with the
+Great Spirit, soul of my brother!
+
+“Rest with the Great Spirit, soul of Manteo, till Mamalis shall come to
+enjoy thy embraces. Then welcome to thy spirit home the sister of thy
+youth, and reward with thy love the avenger of thy death! Rest with the
+Great Spirit, soul of my brother!”
+
+As her melancholy requiem died away, Mamalis rose silently from the
+seat, and bent once more over the form of the sleeping Virginia. As she
+felt the warm breath of the pure young girl upon her cheek, and watched
+the regular beating of her heart, and then contrasted the purity of the
+sleeping maiden with her own wild, guilty nature, she started back in
+horror. For the first time she felt remorse at the commission of her
+crime, and with a heavy sigh she hurriedly left the room, as though it
+were corrupted by her presence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+    “And smile, and smile, and smile, and be a villain.”
+                                              _King John._
+
+
+Great was the horror of the loyalists, on the following morning, at the
+discovery of the horrible crime which had been perpetrated; but still
+greater was the mystery as to who was the guilty party. There was no
+mode of getting admittance to the house in which Berkenhead was
+confined, except through the door, the key of which was in the
+possession of Alfred Bernard. Even if the position and standing of this
+young man had not repelled the idea that he was cognizant of the crime,
+his own unfeigned surprise at the discovery, and the absence of any
+motive for its commission, acquitted him in the minds of all. And yet,
+if this hypothesis was avoided, it was impossible to form any rational
+theory on the subject. There were but two persons connected with the
+establishment who could be presumed to have any plausible motive for
+murdering Berkenhead. Hansford might indeed be suspected of a desire to
+suppress evidence which would be dangerous to his own safety, but then
+Hansford was himself in close confinement. Mamalis, too, had manifested
+a spirit, the evening before, towards the unhappy man, which might very
+naturally subject her to suspicion; but, besides that, she played her
+part of surprise to perfection—it could not be conceived how she had
+gotten possession of the key of the room. The sentinel might indeed have
+thrown much light upon the subject, but he kept his own counsel for fear
+of the consequences of disobedience to orders; and he boldly asserted
+that no one had left the house during the night. This evidence, taken in
+connection with the fact that the young girl was found sleeping, as
+usual, in the little room adjoining Virginia's chamber, entirely
+exculpated her from any participation in the crime. Nothing then was
+left for it, but to suppose that the unhappy man, in a fit of
+desperation, had himself put a period to his existence. A little
+investigation might have easily satisfied them that such an hypothesis
+was as groundless as the rest; for it was afterwards ascertained by
+Colonel Temple, after a strict search, that no weapon was found on or
+near the body, nor in the apartment where it lay. But Sir William
+Berkeley, anxious to proceed upon his way to Accomac, and caring but
+little, perhaps, for the fate of a rebel, whose life was probably
+shortened but a few hours, gave the affair a very hurried and summary
+examination. Bernard, with his quick sagacity, discovered, or at least
+shrewdly suspected, the truth, and Mamalis felt, as he fixed his dark
+eyes upon her, that he had read the mystery of her heart. But, for his
+own reasons, the villain for the present maintained the strictest
+silence on the subject.
+
+But this catastrophe, so fatal to Berkenhead, was fortunate for young
+Hansford. The Governor, more true to his word to loyalists than he had
+hitherto been to the insurgents, released our hero from imprisonment, in
+the absence of any testimony against him. And, to the infinite chagrin
+of Alfred Bernard, his rival, once more at liberty, was again, in the
+language of the treacherous Plantagenet, “a very serpent in his way.” He
+had too surely discovered, that so long as Hansford lived, the heart of
+Virginia Temple, or what he valued far more, her hand, could never be
+given to another; and yet he felt, that if he were out of the way, and
+that heart, though widowed, free to choose again, the emotions of
+mistaken gratitude would prompt her to listen with favour to his suit.
+With all his faults, too, and with his mercenary motives, Bernard was
+not without a feeling, resembling love, for Virginia. We are told that
+there are fruits and flowers which, though poisonous in their native
+soil, when transplanted and cherished under more genial circumstances,
+become at once fair to the eye and wholesome to the taste. It is thus
+with love. In the wild, sterile heart of Alfred Bernard it had taken
+root, and poisoned all his nature; but yet it was the same emotion which
+shed a genial influence over the manly heart of Hansford. If it had been
+otherwise, there were some as fair, and many far more wealthy, in his
+adopted colony, than Virginia Temple. But she was at once adapted to his
+interests, his passions, and his intellect. She could aid his vaulting
+ambition by sharing with him her wealth; she could control, by the
+strength of her character, and the sweetness of her disposition, his own
+wild nature; and she could be the instructive and congenial companion of
+his intellect. And all this rich treasure might be his but for the
+existence, the rivalry of the hated Hansford. Still his ardent nature
+led him to hope. With all his heart he would engage in quelling the
+rebellion, which he foresaw was about to burst upon the colony; and
+then revenge, the sweetest morsel to the jealous mind, was his.
+Meantime, he must look the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it;
+and curbing his own feelings, must, under pretence of friendship and
+interest for a rival, continue to plot his ruin. Alfred Bernard was
+equal to the task.
+
+It was with these feelings that he sought Virginia Temple on the eve of
+his departure from Windsor Hall. The young girl was seated, with her
+lover, on a rude, rustic bench, beneath the large oak where Bernard had,
+the evening before, had an interview with the unfortunate Berkenhead. As
+he approached, she rose, and with her usual winning frankness of manner,
+she extended her hand.
+
+“Come, Mr. Bernard,” she said, “I have determined that you and Major
+Hansford shall be friends.”
+
+“Most willingly, on my part,” said the smooth-tongued Bernard. “And I
+think I have given the best evidence of my disposition to be so, by
+aiding feebly in restoring to Miss Temple an old friend, when she must
+now so soon part with her more recent acquaintance.”
+
+“I am happy to think,” said Hansford, whose candour prevented him from
+suppressing entirely the coldness of his manner, “that I am indebted to
+Mr. Bernard for any interest he may have taken in my behalf. I hope,
+sir, you will now add to the obligation under which I at present rest to
+you, by apprising me in what manner you have so greatly obliged me.”
+
+“Why, you must be aware,” replied Bernard, “that your present freedom
+from restraint is due to my interposition with Sir William Berkeley.”
+
+“Oh yes, indeed,” interposed Virginia, “for I heard my father say that
+it was Mr. Bernard's wise suggestion, adopted by the Governor, which
+secured your release.”
+
+“Hardly so,” returned Hansford, “even if such were his disposition. But,
+if I am rightly informed, your assistance only extended to a very
+natural request, that I should not be judged guilty so long as there was
+no evidence to convict me. If I am indebted to Mr. Bernard for
+impressing upon the mind of the Governor a principle of law as old, I
+believe, as Magna Charta, I must e'en render him the thanks which are
+justly his due, and which he seems so anxious to demand.”
+
+“Mr. Hansford,” said Virginia, “why will you persist in being so
+obstinate? Is it such a hard thing, after all, for one brave man to owe
+his life to another, or for an innocent man to receive justice at the
+hands of a generous one? And at least, I should think, she added, with
+the least possible pout, “that, when I ask as a favour that you should
+be friends, you should not refuse me.”
+
+“Indeed, Miss Virginia,” said Alfred Bernard, without evincing the
+slightest mark of displeasure; “you urge this reconciliation too far. If
+Major Hansford have some secret cause of enmity or distrust towards me,
+of which I am ignorant, I beg that you will not force him to express a
+sentiment which his heart does not entertain. And as for his gratitude,
+which he seems to think that I demand, I assure you, that for any
+service which I may have done him, I am sufficiently compensated by my
+own consciousness of rectitude of purpose, and nobly rewarded by
+securing your approving smile.”
+
+“Nobly, generously said, Mr. Bernard,” replied Virginia, “and now I have
+indeed mistaken Mr. Hansford's character if he fail to make atonement
+for his backwardness, by a full, free, and cordial reconciliation.”
+
+“I must needs give you my left hand, then,” said Hansford, extending his
+hand with as much cordiality as he could assume; “my right arm is
+disabled as you perceive, by a wound inflicted by one of the enemies of
+my country, against whom it would seem it is treason to battle.”
+
+“Nay, if you go into that hateful subject again,” said Virginia, “I
+fear there is not much cordiality in your heart yet.”
+
+“Oh! you are mistaken, Miss Temple,” said Bernard, gaily; “you must
+remember the old adage, that the left is nearest to the heart. Believe
+me, Major Hansford and myself will be good friends yet, and when we
+hereafter shall speak of our former estrangement, it will only be to
+remember by whose gentle influence we were reconciled. But permit me to
+hope, Major, that your wound is not serious.”
+
+“A mere trifle, I believe, sir,” returned Hansford, “but I am afraid I
+will suffer some inconvenience from it for some time, as it is the sword
+arm; and in these troublous times it may fail me, when it should be
+prepared to defend.”
+
+“An that were the only use to which you would apply it,” said Virginia,
+half laughing, and half in earnest, “I would sincerely hope that it
+might never heal.”
+
+“Oh fear not but that it will soon heal,” said Bernard. “The most
+dangerous wounds are inflicted here,” laying his hand upon his heart; “a
+wound dealt not by a savage, but by an angel; not from the arrow of the
+ambushed Indian, but from the quiver of the mischievous little blind
+boy—and the more fatal, because we insanely delight to inflame the
+wound instead of seeking to cure it.”
+
+“Well really, Mr. Bernard,” said Virginia, rallying the gay young
+euphuist, “the flowers of gallantry which you have brought from Windsor
+Court, thanks to your fostering care, flourish quite as sweetly in this
+wilderness of Windsor Hall. Take pity on an illiterate colonial girl,
+and tell me whether this is the language of Waller, Cowley or Dryden?”
+
+“It is the language of the heart, Miss Temple, on the present occasion
+at least,” said Bernard, gravely; “for I am admonished that it is time I
+should say farewell. Without flowers or poetry, Miss Virginia, I bid you
+adieu. May you be happy, and derive from your association with others
+that high enjoyment which you are so capable of bestowing. Farewell,
+Major Hansford, we may meet again, I trust, when it will not be
+necessary to invoke the interposition of a fair mediator to effect a
+reconciliation.”
+
+Hansford well understood the innuendo contained in the last words of
+Bernard, but taking the well-timed hint, refrained from expressing it
+more clearly, and gave his hand to his rival with every appearance of
+cordiality. And Virginia, misconstruing the words of the young jesuit,
+frankly extended her own hand, which he pressed respectfully to his
+lips, and then turned silently away.
+
+“Well, I am delighted,” said Virginia to her lover, when they were thus
+left alone, “that you are at last friends with Bernard. You see now that
+I was right and you were wrong in our estimates of his character.”
+
+“Indeed I do not, my dear Virginia; on the contrary, this brief
+interview has but confirmed my previously formed opinion.”
+
+“Oh! that is impossible, Hansford; you are too suspicious, indeed you
+are. I never saw more refinement and delicacy blended with more real
+candour. Indeed, Hansford, he is a noble fellow.”
+
+“I am sorry to differ with you, dearest; but to my mind his refinement
+is naught but Jesuitical craft; his delicacy the result of an
+educational schooling of the lip, to conceal the real feelings of his
+heart; and his candour but the gilt washing which appears like gold, but
+after all, only hides the baser metal beneath it.”
+
+“Well, in my life I never heard such perversion! Really, Hansford, you
+will make me think you are jealous.”
+
+“Jealous, Virginia, jealous!” said Hansford, in a sorrowful tone. “Alas!
+if I were even capable of such a feeling, what right have I to entertain
+it? Your heart is free, and torn from the soil which once cherished it,
+may be transplanted elsewhere, while the poor earth where once it grew
+can only hope now and then to feel the fragrance which it sheds on all
+around. No, not jealous, Virginia, whatever else I may be!”
+
+“You speak too bitterly, Hansford; have I not assured you that though a
+harsh fate may sever us; though parental authority may deny you my hand,
+yet my heart is unalterably yours. But tell me, why it is that you can
+see nothing good in this young man, and persist in perverting every
+sentiment, every look, every expression to his injury?”
+
+Before Hansford could reply, the shrill voice of Mrs. Temple was heard,
+crying out; “Virginia Temple, Virginia Temple, why where can the child
+have got to!”—and at the same moment the old lady came bustling round
+the house, and discovered the unlawful interview of the lovers.
+
+Rising hastily from her seat, Virginia advanced to her mother, who,
+without giving her time to speak, even had she been so inclined, sang
+out at the top of her voice—“Come along, my daughter. Here are the
+guests in your father's house kept waiting in the porch to tell you
+good-bye, and you, forsooth, must be talking, the Lord knows what, to
+that young scape-gallows yonder, who hasn't modesty enough to know when
+and where he's wanted.”
+
+“Dear mother, don't speak so loud,” whispered the poor girl.
+
+“Don't talk so loud, forsooth—and why? They that put themselves where
+they are not wanted and not asked, must expect to hear ill of
+themselves.”
+
+“There comes my pretty Jeanie,” said her old father, as he saw her
+approach. “And so you found her at last, mother. Come here, dearest, we
+have been waiting for you.”
+
+The sweet tones of that gentle voice, which however harsh at times to
+others, were ever modulated to the sweetest music when he spoke to her,
+fell upon the ears of the poor confused and mortified girl, in such
+comforting accents, that the full heart could no longer restrain its
+gushing feelings, and she burst into tears. With swollen eyes and with a
+heavy heart she bade adieu to the several guests, and as Sir William
+Berkeley, in the mistaken kindness of his heart, kissed her cheek, and
+whispered that Bernard would soon return and all would be happy again,
+she sobbed as if her gentle heart would break.
+
+“I always tell the Colonel that he ruins the child,” said Mrs. Temple to
+the Governor, with one of her blandest smiles, on seeing this renewed
+exhibition of sensibility. “It was not so in our day, Lady Frances; we
+had other things to think about than crying and weeping. Tears were not
+so shallow then.”
+
+Lady Frances Berkeley nodded a stately acquiescence to this tribute to
+the stoicism of the past, and made some sage, original and relevant
+reflection, that shallow streams ever were the most noisy—and then
+kissing the weeping girl, repeated the grateful assurance that Bernard
+would not be long absent, and that she herself would be present at the
+happy bridal, to taste the bride's cake and quaff the knitting cup,[46]
+with other like consolations well calculated to restore tranquillity and
+happiness to the bosom of the disconsolate Virginia.
+
+And so the unfortunate Berkeley commenced that fatal flight, which
+contributed so largely to divert the arms of the insurgents from the
+Indians to the government, and to change what else might have been a
+mere unauthorized attack upon the common enemies of the country into a
+protracted and bloody civil war.
+
+Hansford did not long remain at Windsor Hall, after the departure of the
+loyalists. He would indeed have been wanting in astuteness if he had not
+inferred from the direct language of Mrs. Temple that he was an
+unwelcome visitant at the mansion. But more important, if not more
+cogent reasons urged his immediate departure. He saw at a glance the
+fatal error committed by Berkeley in his flight to Accomac, and the
+immense advantage it would be to the insurgents. He wished, therefore,
+without loss of time to communicate the welcome intelligence to Bacon
+and his followers, who, he knew, were anxiously awaiting the result of
+his mission.
+
+Ordering his horse, he bade a cordial adieu to the good old colonel,
+who, as he shook his hand, said, with a tear in his eye, “Oh, my boy, my
+boy! if your head were as near right as I believe your heart is, how I
+would love to welcome you to my bosom as my son.”
+
+“I hope, my kind, my noble friend,” said Hansford, “that the day may yet
+come when you will see that I am not wholly wrong. God knows I would
+almost rather err with you than to be right with any other man.” Then
+bidding a kind farewell to Mrs. Temple and Virginia, to which the old
+lady responded with due civility, but without cordiality, he vaulted
+into the saddle and rode off—and as long as the house was still in
+view, he could see the white 'kerchief of Virginia from the open window,
+waving a last fond adieu to her unhappy lover.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[46] A cup drunk at the marriage ceremony in honour of the bride.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+    “The abstract and brief chronicle of the time.”
+                                                    _Hamlet._
+
+
+It is not our purpose to trouble the reader with a detailed account of
+all the proceedings of the famous Rebellion, which forms the basis of
+our story. We, therefore, pass rapidly over the stirring incidents which
+immediately succeeded the flight of Sir William Berkeley. Interesting as
+these incidents may be to the antiquary or historian, they have but
+little to do with the dramatis personæ of this faithful narrative, in
+whose fate we trust our readers are somewhat interested. Accomac is
+divided from the mainland of Virginia by the broad Chesapeake Bay.
+Although contained in the same grant which prescribed the limits to the
+colony, and although now considered a part of this ancient commonwealth,
+there is good reason to believe that formerly it was considered in a
+different light. In one of the earliest colonial state papers which has
+been preserved, the petition of Morryson, Ludwell & Smith, for a
+reformed charter for the colony, the petitioners are styled the “agents
+for the governor, council and burgesses of the country of Virginia _and
+territory of Accomac_;” and although this form of phraseology appears in
+but few of the records, yet it would appear that the omission was the
+result of mere convenience in style, just as Victoria is more frequently
+styled the Queen of England, than called by her more formal title of
+Queen of the United Kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland, by the Grace
+of God, Defender of the Faith. It was, therefore, not without reason,
+that Nathaniel Bacon, glad at least of a pretext for advancing his
+designs, should have considered the flight of Sir William Berkeley to
+Accomac as a virtual abdication of his authority, more especially as it
+had been ordained but two years before by the council at Whitehall, that
+the governor should be actually a resident of Virginia, unless when
+summoned by the King to England or elsewhere. At least it was a
+sufficient pretext for the young insurgent, who, in the furtherance of
+his designs did not seem to be over-scrupulous in regard to the powers
+with which he was clothed. But twelve years afterwards a similar pretext
+afforded by the abdication of James the Second, relieved the British
+government of one of the most serious difficulties which has arisen in
+her constitutional history.
+
+Without proceeding on his expedition against the Indians, Bacon had no
+sooner heard of the abdication of the governor than he retired to the
+Middle Plantation, the site of the present venerable city of
+Williamsburg. Here, summoning a convention of the most prominent
+citizens from all parts of the colony, he declared the government
+vacated by the voluntary abdication of Berkeley, and in his own name,
+and the name of four members of the council, proceeded to issue writs
+for a meeting of the Assembly. It is but just to the memory of this
+great man to say, that this Assembly, convened by his will, and acting,
+as may well be conceived, almost exclusively under his dictation, has
+left upon our statute books laws “the most wholesome and good,” for the
+benefit of the colony, and the most conducive to the advancement of
+rational liberty. The rights of property remained inviolate—the reforms
+were moderate and judicious, and the government of the colony proceeded
+as quietly and calmly after the accomplishment of the revolution, as
+though Sir William Berkeley were still seated in his palace as the
+executive magistrate of Virginia. A useful lesson did this young
+colonial rebel teach to modern reformers who would defame his name—the
+lesson that reform does not necessarily imply total change, and that
+there is nothing with which it is more dangerous to tamper than long
+established usage. The worst of all quacks are those who would
+administer their sovereign nostrums to the constitution of their
+country.
+
+The reader of history need not be reminded that the expedition of Bland
+and Carver, designed to surprise Sir William Berkeley in his new
+retreat, was completely frustrated by the treachery of Larimore, and its
+unfortunate projectors met, at the hands of the stern old Governor, a
+traitor's doom. Thus the drooping hopes of the loyalists were again
+revived, and taking advantage of this happy change in the condition of
+affairs, Berkeley with his little band of faithful adherents returned by
+sea to Jamestown, and fortified the place to the best of their ability
+against the attacks of the rebels.
+
+Nor were the insurgents unwilling to furnish them an opportunity for a
+contest. The battle of Bloody Run is memorable in the annals of the
+colony as having forever annihilated the Indian power in Eastern
+Virginia. Like the characters in Bunyan's sublime vision, this unhappy
+race, so long a thorn in the side of the colonists, had passed away, and
+“they saw their faces no more.” But his very triumph over the savage
+enemies of his country, well nigh proved the ruin of the young
+insurgent. Many of his followers, who had joined him with a bona fide
+design of extirpating the Indian power, now laid down their arms, and
+retired quietly to their several homes. Bacon was thus left with only
+about two hundred adherents, to prosecute the civil war which the harsh
+and dissembling policy of Berkeley had invoked; while the Governor was
+surrounded by more than three times that number, with the entire navy of
+Virginia at his command, and, moreover, secure behind the fortifications
+of Jamestown. Yet did not the brave young hero shrink from the contest.
+Though reduced in numbers, those that remained were in themselves a
+host. They were all men of more expanded views, and more exalted
+conceptions of liberty, than many of the medley crew who had before
+attended him. They fought in a holier cause than when arrayed against
+the despised force of their savage foes, and, moreover, they fought in
+self-defence. For, too proud and generous to desert their leader in his
+hour of peril, each of his adherents lay under the proscriptive ban of
+the revengeful Governor, as a rebel and a traitor. No sooner, therefore,
+did Bacon hear of the return of Berkeley to Jamestown, than, with hasty
+marches, he proceeded to invest the place. It is here, then, that we
+resume the thread of our broken narrative.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+                    “When Liberty rallies
+    Once more in thy regions, remember me then.”
+                                              _Byron._
+
+
+It was on a calm, clear morning in the latter part of the month of
+September, that the little army of Nathaniel Bacon, wearied and worn
+with protracted marches, and with hard fought battles, might be seen
+winding through the woodland district to the north of Jamestown. The two
+cavaliers, who led the way a little distance ahead of the main body of
+the insurgents, were Bacon and his favourite comrade, Hansford—engaged,
+as before, in an animated, but now a more earnest conversation. The brow
+of the young hero was more overcast with care and reflection than when
+we last saw him. The game, which he had fondly hoped was over, had yet
+to be played, and the stake that remained was far more serious than any
+which had yet been risked. During the brief interval that his undisputed
+power existed, the colony had flourished and improved, and the bright
+dream which he had of her approaching delivery from bondage, seemed
+about to be realized. And now it was sad and disheartening to think that
+the battle must again be fought, and with such odds against him, that
+the chances of success were far more remote than ever. But Bacon was not
+the man to reveal his feelings, and he imparted to others the
+cheerfulness which he failed to feel himself. From time to time he would
+ride along the broken ranks, revive their drooping spirits, inspire them
+with new courage, and impart fresh ardor into their breasts for the
+glorious cause in which they were engaged. Then rejoining Hansford, he
+would express to him the fears and apprehensions which he had so
+studiously concealed from the rest.
+
+It was on one of these occasions, after deploring the infatuated
+devotion of so many of the colonists to the cause of blind loyalty, and
+the desertion of so many on whom he had relied to co-operate in his
+enterprize, that he said, bitterly:
+
+“I fear sometimes, my friend, that we have been too premature in our
+struggle for liberty. Virginia is not yet ready to be free. Her people
+still hug the chains which enslave them.”
+
+“Alas!” said Hansford, “it is too true that we cannot endue the infant
+in swaddling bands with the pride and strength of a giant. The child who
+learns to walk must meet with many a fall, and the nation that aspires
+to freedom will often be checked by disaster and threatened with ruin.”
+
+“And this it is,” said Bacon, sorrowfully, “that makes me sick at heart.
+Each struggle to be free sinks the chain of the captive deeper into his
+flesh. And should we fail now, my friend, we but tighten the fetters
+that bind us.”
+
+“Think not thus gloomily on the subject,” replied Hansford. “Believe me,
+that you have already done much to develope the germ of freedom in
+Virginia. It may be that it may not expand and grow in our brief lives;
+and even though our memory may pass away, and the nation we have served
+may fail to call us blessed, yet they will rejoice in the fruition of
+that freedom for which we may perish. Should the soldier repine because
+he is allotted to lead a forlorn hope? No! there is a pride and a glory
+to know, that his death is the bridge over which others will pass to
+victory.”
+
+“God bless your noble soul, Hansford,” said Bacon, with the intensest
+admiration. “It is men like you and not like me who are worthy to live
+in future generations. Men who, regardless of the risk or sacrifice of
+self, press onward in the discharge of duty. Love of glory may elevate
+the soul in the hour of triumph, but love of duty, and firmness
+resolutely to discharge it, can alone sustain us in the hour of peril
+and trial.”
+
+This was at last the difference between the two men. Intense desire for
+personal fame, united with a subordinate love of country impelled Bacon
+in his course. Inflexible resolution to discharge a sacred duty, an
+entire abnegation of self in its performance, and the strongest
+convictions of right constituted the incentives to Hansford. It was this
+that in the hour of their need sustained the heart of Hansford, while
+the more selfish but noble heart of his leader almost sank within him;
+and yet the effects upon the actions of the two were much the same. The
+former, unswayed by circumstances however adverse, pressed steadily and
+firmly on; while the latter, with the calmness of desperation, knowing
+that safety, and (what was dearer) glory, lay in the path of success,
+braced himself for the struggle with more than his usual resolution.
+
+“But, alas!” continued Bacon, in the same melancholy tone, “if we should
+fail, how hard to be forgotten. Your name and memory to perish among men
+forever—your very grave to be neglected and uncared for; and this
+living, breathing frame, instinct with life, and love, and glory, to
+pass away and mingle with the dust of the veriest worm which crawls upon
+the earth. Oh, God! to be forgotten, to leave no impress on the world
+but what the next flowing tide may efface forever. Think of it, realize
+it, Hansford—to be forgotten!”
+
+“It would, indeed, be a melancholy thought,” said Hansford, with a deep
+sympathy for his friend—“if this were all. But when we remember that we
+stand but on the threshold of existence, and have a higher, a holier
+destiny to attain beyond, we need care but little for what is passing
+here. I have sometimes thought, my friend, that as in manhood we
+sometimes smile at the absurd frivolities which caught our childish
+fancy, so when elevated to a higher sphere we would sit and wonder at
+the interest which we took in the trifling pleasures, the empty honours,
+and the glittering toys of this present life.”
+
+“And do you mean to say that honour and glory are nothing here?”
+
+“Only so far as they reflect the honour and glory which are beyond.”
+
+“Pshaw, man!” cried Bacon, “you do not, you cannot think so. You ask me
+the reason of this desire for fame and remembrance when we are dust. I
+tell you it is an instinct implanted in us by the Almighty to impel us
+to glorious deeds.”
+
+“Aye,” said Hansford, quietly, “and when that desire, by our own
+indulgence, becomes excessive, just as the baser appetites of the
+glutton or the debauchee, it becomes corrupt and tends to our
+destruction.”
+
+“You are a curious fellow, Hansford,” said Bacon, laughing, “and should
+have been one of old Noll's generals—for I believe you can preach as
+well as you can fight, and believe me that is no slight commendation.
+But you must excuse me if I cannot agree with you in all of your
+sentiments. I am sorry to say that old Butler's 'pulpit drum
+ecclesiastic' seldom beat me to a church parade while I was in England,
+and here in Virginia they send us the worst preachers, as they send us
+the worst of every thing. But a truce to the subject. Tell me are you a
+believer in presentiments?”
+
+“Surely such things are possible, but I believe them to be rare,”
+replied his companion. “Future events certainly make an impression upon
+the animal creation, and I know not why man should be exempt entirely
+from a similar law. The migratory birds will seek a more southern clime,
+even before a change of weather is indicated by the wind, and the
+appearance of the albatross, or the bubbling of the porpoise, if we may
+believe the sailors' account, portend a storm.”
+
+“These phenomena,” suggested Bacon, “may easily be explained by some
+atmospheric influence, insensible to our nature, but easily felt by
+them.”
+
+“I might answer,” replied Hansford, “that if insensible to us, we are
+not warranted in presuming their existence. But who can tell in the
+subtle mechanism of the mind how sensitive it may be to the impressions
+of coming yet unseen events. At least, all nations have believed in the
+existence of such an influence, and the Deity himself has deigned to use
+it through his prophets, in the revelation of his purposes to man.”
+
+“Well, true or not,” said Bacon, in a low voice, “I have felt the effect
+of such a presentiment in my own mind, and although I have tried to
+resist its influence I have been unable to do so. There is something
+which whispers to me, Hansford, that I will not see the consummation of
+my hopes in this colony—and that dying I shall leave behind me an
+inglorious name. For what at last is an unsuccessful patriot but a
+rebel. And oh, as I have listened to the monitions of this demon, it
+seemed as though the veil of futurity were raised, and I could read my
+fate in after years. Some future chronicler will record this era of
+Virginia's history, and this struggle for freedom on the part of her
+patriot children will be styled rebellion; our actions misrepresented;
+our designs misinterpreted; and I the leader and in part the author of
+the movement will be handed down with Wat Tyler and Jack Cade to infamy,
+obloquy and reproach.”
+
+“Think not thus gloomily,” said Hansford, “the feelings you describe are
+often suggested to an excited imagination by the circumstances with
+which it is surrounded; just as dreams are the run mad chroniclers of
+our daily thoughts and hopes and apprehensions. You should not yield to
+them, General, they unman you or at least unfit you for the duties which
+lie before you.”
+
+“You are right,” returned Bacon; “and I banish them from me forever. I
+have half a mind to acknowledge myself your convert, Hansford; eschew
+the gaily bedizzened Glory, and engage your demure little Quaker, Duty,
+as my handmaiden in her place.”
+
+“I will feel but too proud of such a convert to my creed,” said Hansford
+laughing. “And now what of your plans on Jamestown?”
+
+“Why to tell you the truth,” said Bacon gravely; “I am somewhat at fault
+in regard to my actions there. I could take the town in a day, and
+repulse those raw recruits of the old Governor with ease, if they would
+only sally out. But I suspect the old tyrant will play a safe game with
+me—and securely ensconced behind his walls, will cut my brave boys to
+pieces with his cannon before I can make a successful breach.”
+
+“You could throw up breastworks for your protection,” suggested
+Hansford.
+
+“Aye, but I fear it would be building a stable after the horse was
+stolen. With our small force we could not resist their guns while we
+were constructing our fortifications. But I will try it by night, and we
+may succeed. The d——d old traitor—if he would only meet me in open
+field, I could make my way 'through twenty times his stop.'”
+
+“Well, we must encounter some risk,” replied Hansford. “I have great
+hopes from the character of his recruits, too. Though they number much
+more than ourselves, yet they serve without love, and in the present
+exhausted exchequer of the colony, are fed more by promises than money.”
+
+“They are certainly not likely to be fed by _angels_,” said Bacon, “as
+some of the old prophets are said to have been. But, Hansford, an idea
+has just struck me, which is quite a new manœuvre in warfare, and
+from which your ideas of chivalry will revolt.”
+
+“What is it?” asked Hansford eagerly.
+
+“Why if it succeeds,” returned Bacon, “I will warrant that Jamestown is
+in our hands in twenty-four hours, without the loss of more blood than
+would fill a quart canteen.”
+
+“Bravo, then, General, if you add such an important principle to the
+stock of military tactics, I'll warrant that whispering demon lied, and
+that you will retain both Glory and Duty in your service.”
+
+“I am afraid you will change your note, Thomas, when I develope my plan.
+It is simply this—to detail a party of men to scour the country around
+Jamestown, and collect the good dames and daughters of our loyal
+councillors. If we take them with us, I'll promise to provide a secure
+defence against the enemies' fire. The besieged will dare not fire a
+gun so long as there is danger of striking their wives and children, and
+we, in the meantime, secure behind this temporary breastwork, will
+prepare a less objectionable defence. What think you of the plan,
+Hansford?”
+
+“Good God!” cried Hansford, “You are not in earnest General Bacon?”
+
+“And why not?” said Bacon, in reply. “If such a course be not adopted,
+at least half of the brave fellows behind us will be slaughtered like
+sheep. While no harm can result to the ladies themselves, beyond the
+inconvenience of a few hours' exposure to the night air, which they
+should willingly endure to preserve life.”
+
+Hansford was silent. He knew how useless it was to oppose Bacon when he
+had once resolved. His chivalrous nature revolted at the idea of
+exposing refined and delicate females to such a trial. And yet he could
+not deny that the project if successfully carried out would be the means
+of saving much bloodshed, and of ensuring a speedy and easy victory to
+the insurgents.
+
+“Why, what are you thinking of, man,” said Bacon gaily. “I thought my
+project would wound your delicate sensibilities. But to my mind there is
+more real chivalry and more true humanity in sparing brave blood to
+brave hearts, than in sacrificing it to a sickly regard for a woman's
+feelings.”
+
+“The time has been when brave blood would have leaped gushing from brave
+hearts,” said Hansford proudly, “to protect woman from the slightest
+shadow of insult.”
+
+“Most true, my brave Chevalier Bayard,” said Bacon, in a tone of
+unaffected good humor, “and shall again—and mine, believe me, will not
+be more sluggish in such a cause than your own. But here no insult is
+intended and none will be given. These fair prisoners shall be treated
+with the respect due to their sex and station. My hand and sword for
+that. But the time has been when woman too was willing to sacrifice her
+shrinking delicacy in defence of her country. Wot ye how Rome was once
+saved by the noble intercession of the wife and mother of Caius
+Marcus—or how the English forces were beaten from the walls of Orleans
+by the heroic Joan, or how—”
+
+“You need not multiply examples,” said Hansford interrupting him, “to
+show how women of a noble nature have unsexed themselves to save their
+country. Your illustrations do not apply, for they did voluntarily what
+the ladies of Virginia must do upon compulsion. But, sir, I have no more
+to say. If you persist in this resolution, unchivalrous as I believe it
+to be, yet I will try to see my duty in ameliorating the condition of
+these unhappy females as far as possible.”
+
+“And in me you shall have been a most cordial coadjutor,” returned
+Bacon. “But, my dear fellow, your chivalry is too shallow. Excuse me, if
+I say that it is all mere sentiment without a substratum of reason. Now
+look you—you would willingly kill in battle the husbands of these
+ladies, and thus inflict a life-long wound upon them, and yet you refuse
+to pursue a course by which lives may be saved, because it subjects them
+to a mere temporary inconvenience. But look again. Have you no sympathy
+left for the wives, no chivalry for the daughters of our own brave
+followers, whose hearts will be saved full many a pang by a stratagem,
+which will ensure the safety of their protectors. Believe me, my dear
+Hansford, if chivalry be nought but a mawkish sentiment, which would
+throw away the real substance of good, to retain the mere shadow
+reflected in its mirror, like the poor dog in the fable—the sooner its
+reign is over the better for humanity.”
+
+“But, General Bacon,” said Hansford, by no means convinced by the
+sophistry of his plausible leader, “if the future chronicler of whom you
+spoke, should indeed write the history of this enterprise, he will
+record no fact which will reflect less honour upon your name, than that
+you found a means for your defence in the persons of defenceless
+women.”
+
+“So let it be, my gallant chevalier,” replied Bacon, gaily, determined
+not to be put out of humour by Hansford's grave remonstrance. “But you
+have taught me not to look into future records for my name, or for the
+vindication of my course—and your demure damsel Duty has whispered that
+I am in the path of right. Look ye, Hansford, don't be angry with your
+friend; for I assure you on the honour of a gentleman, that the dames
+themselves will bear testimony to the chivalry of Nathaniel Bacon. And
+besides, my dear fellow, we will not impress any but the sterner old
+dames into our service. You know the older they are the better they will
+serve for material for an _impregnable_ fortress.”
+
+So saying, Bacon ordered a halt, and communicating to his soldiers his
+singular design, he detailed Captain Wilford and a party of a dozen men,
+selected on account of their high character, to capture and bring into
+his camp the wives of certain of the royalists, who, though residing in
+the country, had rallied to the support of Sir William Berkeley, on his
+return to Jamestown. In addition to these who were thus found in their
+several homes, the detailed corps had intercepted the carriage of our
+old friend, Colonel Temple; for the old loyalist had no sooner heard of
+the return of Sir William Berkeley, than he hastened to join him at the
+metropolis, leaving his wife and daughter to follow him on the
+succeeding day. What was the consternation and mortification of Thomas
+Hansford as he saw the fair Virginia Temple conducted, weeping, into the
+rude camp of the insurgents, followed by her high-tempered old mother,
+who to use the chaste and classic simile of Tony Lumpkin, “fidgeted and
+spit about like a Catherine wheel.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+    “It is the cry of women, good, my lord.”
+                                            _Macbeth._
+
+
+Agreeably with the promise of Bacon, the captured ladies were treated
+with a respect and deference which allayed in a great degree their many
+apprehensions. Still they could not refrain from expressions of the
+strongest indignation at an act so unusual, so violent, and so entirely
+at war with the established notions of chivalry at the time. As the
+reader will readily conjecture, our good friend, Mrs. Temple, was by no
+means the most patient under the wrongs she had endured, and resisting
+the kind attentions of those around her, she was vehement in her
+denunciations of her captors, and in her apprehensions of a thousand
+imaginary dangers.
+
+“Oh my God!” she cried, “I know that they intend to murder us. To think
+of leaving a quiet home, and being exposed to such treatment as this.
+Oh, my precious husband, if he only knew what a situation his poor
+Betsey was in at this moment; but never mind, as sure as I am a living
+woman, he shall know it, and then we will see.”
+
+“My dear Mrs. Temple,” said Mrs. Ballard, another of the captives, “do
+not give way to your feelings thus. It is useless, and will only serve
+to irritate these men.”
+
+“Men! they are not men!” returned the excited old lady, refusing to be
+comforted. “Men never would have treated ladies so. They are base,
+cruel, inhuman wretches, and, as I said before, if I live, to get to
+Jamestown, Colonel Temple shall know of it too—so he shall.”
+
+“But reflect, my dear friend, that our present condition is not
+affected by this very natural resolution which you have made, to inform
+your husband of your wrongs. But whatever may be the object of these
+persons, I feel assured that they intend no personal injury to us.”
+
+“No personal injury, forsooth; and have we not sustained it already.
+Look at my head-tire, all done up nicely just before I left the hall,
+and now scarcely fit to be seen. And is it nothing to be hauled all over
+the country with a party of ruffians, that I would be ashamed to be
+caught in company with; and who knows what they intend?”
+
+“I admit with you, my dear madam,” said Mrs. Ballard, “that such conduct
+is unmanly and inexcusable, and I care not who hears me say so. But
+still,” she added in a low voice, “we have the authority of scripture to
+make friends even of the mammon of unrighteousness.”
+
+“Friends! I would die first. I who have been moving in the first
+circles, the wife of Colonel Temple, who, if he had chosen, might have
+been the greatest in the land, to make friends with a party of mean,
+sneaking, cowardly ruffians. Never—and I'll speak my mind freely
+too—they shall see that I have a woman's tongue in my head and know how
+to resent these injuries. Oh, for shame! and to wear swords too, which
+used to be the badge of gentlemen and cavaliers, who would rather have
+died than wrong a poor, weak, defenceless woman—much less to rob and
+murder her.”
+
+“Well, let us hope for the best, my friend,” said Mrs. Ballard; “God
+knows I feel as you do, that we have been grossly wronged; but let us
+remember that we are in the hands of a just and merciful Providence, who
+will do with us according to his holy will.”
+
+“I only know that we are in the hands of a parcel of impious and
+merciless wretches,” cried the old lady, who, as we have seen on a
+former occasion, derived but little comfort from the consolations of
+religion in the hour of trial. “I hope I have as much religion as my
+fellows, who pretend to so much more—but I should like to know what
+effect that would have on a band of lawless cut-throats?”
+
+“He has given us his holy promise,” said Virginia, in a solemn, yet
+hopeful voice of resignation, “that though we walk through the valley
+and the shadow of death, he will be with us—his rod and his staff will
+comfort us—yea, he prepareth a table for us in the presence of our
+enemies, our cup runneth over.”
+
+“Well, I reckon I know that as well as you, miss; but it seems there is
+but little chance of having a table prepared for us here,” retorted her
+mother, whose fears and indignation had whetted rather than allayed her
+appetite. “But I think it is very unseemly in a young girl to be so calm
+under such circumstances. I know that when I was your age, the bare idea
+of submitting to such an exposure as this would have shocked me out of
+my senses.”
+
+Virginia could not help thinking, that considering the lapse of time
+since her mother was a young girl, there had been marvellously little
+change wrought in her keen sensibility to exposure; for she was already
+evidently “shocked out of her senses.” But she refrained from expressing
+such a dangerous opinion, and replied, in a sad tone—
+
+“And can you think, my dearest mother, that I do not feel in all its
+force our present awful condition! But, alas! what can we do. As Mrs.
+Ballard truly says, our best course is to endeavour to move the coarse
+sympathies of these rebels, and even if they should not relent, they
+will at least render our condition less fearful by their forbearance and
+respect. Oh, my mother! my only friend in this dark hour of peril and
+misfortune, think not so harshly of your daughter as to suppose that she
+feels less acutely the horrors of her situation, because she fails to
+express her fears.” And so saying, the poor girl drew yet closer to her
+mother, and wept upon her bosom.
+
+“I meant not to speak unkindly, dear Jeanie,” said the good-hearted old
+lady, “but you know, my child, that when my fears get the better of me,
+I am not myself. It does seem to me, that I was born under some unlucky
+star. Ever since I was born the world has been turning upside down; and
+God knows, I don't know what I have done that it should be so. But
+first, that awful revolution in England, and then, when we came here to
+pass our old days in peace and quiet, this infamous rebellion. And yet I
+must say, I never knew any thing like this. There was at least some show
+of religion among the old Roundheads, and though they were firm and
+demure enough, and hated all kinds of amusement, and cruel enough too
+with all their psalm singing, to cut off their poor king's head, yet
+they always treated women with respect and decency. But, indeed, even
+the rebels of the present day are not what they used to be.”
+
+Virginia could scarcely forbear smiling, amid her tears, at this new
+application of her mother's favourite theory. The conversation was here
+interrupted by the approach of a young officer, who, bowing respectfully
+to the bevy of captive ladies, said politely, that he was sorry to
+intrude upon their presence, but that, as it was time to pursue their
+journey, he had come to ask if the ladies would partake of some
+refreshment before their ride.
+
+“If they could share the rough fare of a soldier, it would bestow a
+great favour and honour upon him to attend to their wishes; and indeed,
+as it would be several hours before they could reach Jamestown, they
+would stand in need of some refreshment, ere they arrived at more
+comfortable quarters.”
+
+“As your unhappy prisoners, sir,” said Mrs. Ballard, with great dignity,
+“we can scarcely object to a soldier's fare. Prisoners have no choice
+but to take the food which the humanity of their jailers sets before
+them. Your apology is therefore needless, if not insulting to our
+misfortunes.”
+
+“Well, madam,” returned Wilford, in the same respectful tone, “I did not
+mean to offend you, and regret that I have done so through mistaken
+kindness. May I add that, in common with the rest of the army, I deplore
+the necessity which has compelled us to resort to such harsh means
+towards yourselves, in order to ensure success and safety.”
+
+“I deeply sympathize with you in your profound regret,” said Mrs.
+Ballard, ironically. “But pray tell me, sir, if you learned this very
+novel and chivalric mode of warfare from the savages with whom you have
+been contending, or is it the result of General Bacon's remarkable
+military genius?”
+
+“It is the result of the stern necessity under which we rest, of coping
+with a force far superior to our own. And I trust that while your
+ladyships can suffer but little inconvenience from our course, you will
+not regret your own cares, if thereby you might prevent an effusion of
+blood.”
+
+“Oh, that is it,” replied Mrs. Ballard, in the same tone of withering
+irony. “I confess that I was dull enough to believe that the
+self-constituted, self-styled champions of freedom had courage enough to
+battle for the right, and not to screen themselves from danger, as a
+child will seek protection behind its mother's apron, from the attack of
+an enraged cow.”
+
+“Madam, I will not engage in an encounter of wits with you. I will do
+you but justice when I say that few would come off victors in such a
+contest. But I have a message from one of our officers to this young
+lady, I believe, which I was instructed to reserve for her private ear.”
+
+“There is no need for a confidential communication,” said Virginia
+Temple, “as I have no secret which I desire to conceal from my mother
+and these companions in misfortune. If, therefore, you have aught to
+say to me, you may say it here, or else leave it unexpressed.”
+
+“As you please, my fair young lady,” returned Wilford. “My message
+concerns you alone, but if you do not care to conceal it from your
+companions, I will deliver it in their presence. Major Thomas Hansford
+desires me to say, that if you would allow him the honour of an
+interview of a few moments, he would gladly take the opportunity of
+explaining to you the painful circumstances by which you are surrounded,
+in a manner which he trusts may meet with your approbation.”
+
+“Say to Major Thomas Hansford,” replied Virginia, proudly, “that, as I
+am his captive, I cannot prevent his intrusion into my presence. I
+cannot refuse to hear what he may have to speak. But tell him, moreover,
+that no explanation can justify this last base act, and that no
+reparation can erase it from my memory. Tell him that she who once
+honoured him, and loved him, as all that was noble, and generous, and
+chivalric, now looks back upon the past as on a troubled dream; and
+that, in future, if she should hear his name, she will remember him but
+as one who, cast in a noble mould, might have been worthy of the highest
+admiration, but, defaced by an indelible stain, is cast aside as worthy
+alike of her indignation and contempt.”
+
+As the young girl uttered the last fatal words, she sank back into her
+grassy seat by her mother's side, as though exhausted by the effort she
+had made. She had torn with violent resolution from her breast the image
+which had so long been enshrined there—not only as a picture to be
+loved, but as an idol to be worshipped—and though duty had nerved and
+sustained her in the effort, nothing could assuage the anguish it
+inflicted. She did not love him then, but she had loved him; and her
+heart, like the gloomy chamber where death has been, seemed more
+desolate for the absence of that which, though hideous to gaze upon,
+was now gone forever.
+
+Young Wilford was deeply impressed with the scene, and could not
+altogether conceal the emotion which it excited. In a hurried and
+agitated voice he promised to deliver her message to Hansford, and
+bowing again politely to the ladies, he slowly withdrew.
+
+In a few moments one of the soldiers came with the expected refreshment,
+which certainly justified the description which Wilford had given. It
+was both coarse and plain. Jerked venison, which had evidently been the
+property of a stag with a dozen branches to his horns, and some dry and
+moulding biscuit, completed the homely repast. Virginia, and most of her
+companions, declined partaking of the unsavoury viands, but Mrs. Temple,
+though bitterly lamenting her hard fate, in dooming her to such hard
+fare, worked vigorously away at the tough venison with her two remaining
+molars—asserting the while, very positively, that no such venison as
+that existed in her young days, though, to confess the truth, if we may
+judge from the evident age of the deceased animal, it certainly did.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+    “Yet, though dull hate as duty should be taught,
+    I know that thou wilt love me; though my name
+    Should be shut from thee, as a spell still fraught
+    With desolation,—and a broken claim;
+    Though the grave closed between us, 'twere the same.”
+                                                _Childe Harold._
+
+
+The daylight had entirely disappeared, and the broad disc of the full
+September moon was just appearing above the eastern horizon, when Bacon
+and his followers resumed their march. Each of the captive ladies was
+placed upon a horse, behind one of the officers, whose heavy riding
+cloak was firmly girt to the horse's back, to provide a more comfortable
+seat. Thus advancing, at a constant, but slow pace, to accommodate the
+wearied soldiers, they pursued their onward course toward Jamestown. It
+was Bacon's object to arrive before the town as early as possible in the
+night, so as to secure the completion of their intrenchments and
+breastworks before the morning, when he intended to commence the siege.
+And now, as they are lighted on their way by the soft rays of the
+autumnal moon, let us hear the conversation which was passing between
+one of the cavaliers and his fair companion, as they rode slowly along
+at some distance from the rest.
+
+We may well suppose that Thomas Hansford, forced thus reluctantly to
+engage in a policy from which his very soul revolted, would not commit
+the charge of Virginia's person to another. She, at least, should learn,
+that though so brutally impressed into the service of the rebel army,
+there was an arm there to shield her from danger and protect her from
+rudeness or abuse. She, at least, should learn that there was one heart
+there, however despised and spurned by others, which beat in its every
+throb for her safety and happiness.
+
+Riding, as we have said, a little slower than the rest, so as to be a
+little out of hearing, he said, in a low voice, tremulous with half
+suppressed emotion, “Miss Temple cannot be ignorant of who her companion
+is?”
+
+“Your voice assures me,” replied Virginia, “that my conjecture is right,
+and that I am in the presence of one who was once an honoured friend.
+But had your voice and form changed as entirely as your heart, I could
+never have recognized in the rebel who scruples not to insult a
+defenceless woman, the once gallant and chivalrous Hansford.”
+
+“And do you, can you believe that my heart has indeed so thoroughly
+changed?”
+
+“I would fain believe so, else I am forced to the conclusion that I
+have, all my life, been deceived in a character which I deemed worthy of
+my love, while it was only the more black because it was hypocritical.”
+
+“Virginia,” said Hansford, with desperation, “you shall not talk thus;
+you shall not think thus of me.”
+
+“As my captor and jailer,” returned the brave hearted young maiden, “Mr.
+Hansford may, probably, by force, control the expression of my
+opinions—but thank God! not even you can control my thoughts. The mind,
+at least, is free, though the body be enslaved.”
+
+“Nay, do not mistake my meaning, dear Virginia,” said her lover. “But
+alas! I am the victim of misconstruction. Could you, for a moment,
+believe that I was capable of an act which you have justly described as
+unmanly and unchivalrous?”
+
+“What other opinion can I have?” said Virginia. “I find you acting with
+those who are guilty of an act as cowardly as it is cruel. I find you
+tacitly acquiescing in their measures, and aiding in guarding and
+conducting their unhappy captives—and I received from you a message in
+which you pretend to say that you can justify that which is at once
+inexcusable before heaven, and in the court of man's honour. Forgive me,
+if I am unable to separate the innocent from the guilty, and if I fail
+to see that your conduct is more noble in this attempt to shift the
+consequences of your crime upon your confederates.”
+
+“Now, by Heaven, you wrong me!” returned Hansford. “My message to you
+was mistaken by Captain Wilford. I never said I could justify your
+capture; I charged him to tell you I could justify myself. And as for my
+being found with those who have committed this unmanly act, as well
+might you be deemed a participator in their actions now, because of your
+presence here. I remonstrated, I protested against such a course—and
+when at last adopted I denounced it as unworthy of men, and far more
+unworthy of soldiers and freemen.”
+
+“And yet, when overwhelmed by the voices of others, you quietly
+acquiesce, and remain in companionship with those whose conduct you had
+denounced.”
+
+“What else could I do?” urged Hansford. “My feeble arm could not resist
+the action of two hundred-men; and it only remained for me to continue
+here, that I might secure the safety and kind treatment of those who
+were the victims of this rude violence. Alas! how little did I think
+that so soon you would be one of those unhappy victims, and that my
+heart would deplore, for its own sake, a course from which my judgment
+and better nature already revolted.”
+
+The scales fell from Virginia's eyes. She now saw clearly the bitter
+trial through which her lover had been called to pass, and recognized
+once more the generous, self-denying nature of Hansford. The stain upon
+his pure fame, to use her own figure, was but the effect of the false
+and deceptive lens through which she had looked, and now that she saw
+clearly, it was restored to its original purity and beauty.
+
+“And is this true, indeed?” she said, in a happy voice. “Believe me,
+Hansford, the relief which I feel at this moment more than compensates
+for all that I have endured. The renewed assurance of your honour atones
+for all. Can you forgive me for harbouring for a moment a suspicion that
+you were aught but the soul of honour?”
+
+“Forgive you, dearest?” returned Hansford. “Most freely—most fully! But
+scarcely can I forgive those who have so wronged you. Cast in a common
+lot with them, and struggling for a common cause, I cannot now withdraw
+from their association; and indeed, Virginia, I will be candid, and tell
+you freely that I would not if I could.”
+
+“Alas!” said Virginia, “and what can be the result of your efforts.
+Sooner or later aid must come from England, and crush a rebellion whose
+success has only been ephemeral. And what else can be expected or
+desired, since we have already seen how lost to honour are those by whom
+it is attempted. Would you wish, if you could, to subject your country
+to the sway of men, who, impelled only by their own reckless passions,
+disregard alike the honour due from man and the respect due to woman?”
+
+“You mistake the character of these brave men, Virginia. I believe
+sincerely that General Bacon was prompted to this policy by a real
+desire to prevent the unnecessary loss of life; and though this humanity
+cannot entirely screen his conduct from reprehension, yet it may cast a
+veil over it. Bold and reckless though he be, his powerful mind is
+swayed by many noble feelings; and although he may commit errors, they
+nearly lose their grossness in his ardent love of freedom, and his
+exalted contempt of danger.”
+
+“His love of freedom, I presume, is illustrated by his forcible capture
+of unprotected females,” returned Virginia; “and his contempt of danger,
+by his desire to interpose his captives between himself and the guns of
+his enemies.”
+
+“I have told you,” said Hansford, “that this conduct is incapable of
+being justified, and in this I grant that Bacon has grievously erred.”
+
+“Then why continue to unite your fortunes to a man whose errors are so
+gross and disgraceful, and whose culpable actions endanger your own
+reputation with your best friends?”
+
+“Because,” said Hansford, proudly, “we are engaged in a cause, in the
+full accomplishment of which the faults and errors of its champion will
+be forgotten, and ransomed humanity will learn to bless his name,
+scarcely less bright for the imperfections on its disc.”
+
+“Your reasoning reminds me,” said Virginia, “of the heretical sect of
+Cainites, of whom my father once told me, who exalted even Judas to a
+hero, because by his treason redemption was effected for the world.”
+
+“Well, my dear girl,” replied Hansford, “you maintain your position most
+successfully. But since you quote from the history of the Church, I will
+illustrate my position after the manner of a sage old oracle of the law.
+Sir Edward Coke once alluded to the fable, that there was not a bird
+that flitted through the air, but contributed by its donations to
+complete the eagle's nest. And so liberty, whose fittest emblem is the
+eagle, has its home provided and furnished by many who are unworthy to
+enjoy the home which they have aided in preparing. Admit even, if you
+please, that General Bacon is one of these unclean birds, we cannot
+refuse the contribution which he brings in aid of the glorious cause
+which we maintain.”
+
+“Aye, but he is like, with his vaulting ambition, to be the eagle
+himself,” returned Virginia; “and to say truth, although I have great
+confidence in your protection, I feel like a lone dove in his talons,
+and would wish for a safer home than in his eyrie.”
+
+“You need fear no danger, be assured, dearest Virginia,” said Hansford,
+“either for yourself or your mother. It is a part of his plan to send
+one of the ladies under our charge into the city, to apprise the
+garrison of our strange manœuvre; and I have already his word, that
+your mother and yourself will be the bearers of this message. In a few
+moments, therefore, your dangers will be past, and you will once more be
+in the arms of your noble old father.”
+
+“Oh thanks, thanks, my generous protector,” cried the girl, transported
+at this new prospect of her freedom. “I can never forget your kindness,
+nor cease to regret that I could ever have had a doubt of your honour
+and integrity.”
+
+“Oh forget that,” returned Hansford, “or remember it only that you may
+acknowledge that it is often better to bear with the circumstances which
+we cannot control, than by hasty opposition to lose the little influence
+we may possess with those in power. But see the moonlight reflected from
+the steeple of yonder church. We are within sight of Jamestown, and you
+will be soon at liberty. And oh! Virginia,” he said sorrowfully, “if it
+should be decreed in the book of fate, that when we part to-night we
+part forever, and if the name of Hansford be defamed and vilified, you
+at least, I know, will rescue his honour from reproach—and one tear
+from my faithful Virginia, shed upon a patriot's grave, will atone for
+all the infamy which indignant vengeance may heap upon my name.”
+
+So saying, he spurred his horse rapidly onward, until he overtook Bacon,
+who, with the precious burden under his care, as usual, led the way. And
+a precious burden it might well be called, for by the light of the moon
+the reader could have no difficulty in recognizing in the companion of
+the young general of the insurgents, our old acquaintance, Mrs. Temple.
+In the earlier part of their journey she had by no means contributed to
+the special comfort of her escort—now, complaining bitterly of the
+roughness of the road, she would grasp him around the waist with both
+arms, until he was in imminent peril of falling from his horse, and then
+when pacified by a smoother path and an easier gait, she would burst
+forth in a torrent of invective against the cowardly rebels who would
+misuse a poor old woman so. Bacon, however, while alike regardless of
+her complaints of the road, the horse, or himself, did all in his power
+to mollify the old lady, by humouring her prejudices as well as he
+could; and when he at last informed her of the plan by which she and her
+daughter would so soon regain their liberty, her temper relaxed, and she
+became highly communicative. She was, indeed, deep in a description of
+some early scenes of her life, and was telling how she had once seen the
+bonnie young Charley with her own eyes, when he was hiding from the
+pursuit of the Roundheads, and how he commended her loyalty, and above
+all her looks; and promised when he came to his own to bestow a peerage
+on her husband for his faithful adherence to the cause of his king. The
+narrative had already lasted an hour or more when Hansford and Virginia
+rode up and arrested the conversation, much to the relief of Bacon, who
+was gravely debating in his own mind whether it was more agreeable to
+hear the good dame's long-winded stories about past loyalty, or to
+submit to her vehement imprecations on present rebellion.
+
+The young general saluted Virginia courteously as she approached,
+expressing the hope that she had not suffered from her exposure to the
+night air, and then turned to Hansford, and engaged in conversation with
+him on matters of interest connected with the approaching contest.
+
+But as his remarks will be more fully understood, and his views
+developed in the next chapter, we forbear to record them here. Suffice
+it to say, that among other things it was determined, that immediately
+upon their arrival before Jamestown, Mrs. Temple and Virginia, under the
+escort of Hansford, should be conducted to the gate of the town, and
+convey to the Governor and his adherents the intelligence of the capture
+of the wives of the loyalists. We will only so far anticipate the
+regular course of our narrative as to say, that this duty was performed
+without being attended with any incident worthy of special remark; and
+that Hansford, bidding a sad farewell to Virginia and her mother,
+committed them to the care of the sentinel at the gate, and returned
+slowly and sorrowfully to the insurgent camp.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+    “How yet resolves the Governor of the town?
+    This is the latest parle we will admit.
+    If I begin the battery once again,
+    I will not leave the half achieved Harfleur,
+    Till in her ashes she lie buried.”
+                                    _King Henry V._
+
+
+And now was heard on the clear night air the shrill blast of a solitary
+trumpet breathing defiance, and announcing to the besieged loyalists,
+the presence of the insurgents before the walls of Jamestown. Exhausted
+by their long march, and depressed by the still gloomy prospect before
+them, the thinned ranks of the rebel army required all the encouraging
+eloquence of their general, to urge them forward in their perilous duty.
+Nor did they need it long. Drawing his wearied, but faithful followers
+around him, the young and ardent enthusiast addressed them in language
+like the following:
+
+     “SOLDIERS,”
+
+     “Animated by a desire to free your country from the incursions of a
+     savage foe, you have crowned your arms with victory and your lives
+     with honor. You have annihilated the Indian power in Virginia, and
+     in the waters of the brook which was the witness of your victory,
+     you have washed away the stains of its cruelty. The purple blood
+     which dyed that fatal stream, has even now passed away; Yet your
+     deeds shall survive in the name which you have given it. And future
+     generations, when they look upon its calm and unstained bosom, will
+     remember with grateful hearts, those brave men who have given
+     security to their homes, and will bless your patriot names when
+     they repeat the story of Bloody Run.
+
+     “For this you have been proclaimed traitors to your country and
+     rebels to your king. Traitors to a country within whose borders the
+     Indian war whoop has been hushed by your exertions! Rebels to your
+     king for preserving Virginia, the brightest jewel in his crown,
+     from inevitable ruin! But though you have accomplished much, much
+     yet remains undone. Then nerve your stout hearts and gird on your
+     armour once more for the contest. Though your enemies are not to be
+     despised, they are not to be feared. _They_ fight as mercenaries
+     uninspired by the cause which they have espoused. _You_ battle for
+     freedom, for honor and for life. Your freedom is threatened by the
+     oppressions of a relentless tyrant and a subservient Assembly. Your
+     honor is assailed, for you are publicly branded as traitors. Your
+     lives are proscribed by those who have basely charged your
+     patriotism as treason, and your defence of your country as
+     rebellion. Be not dismayed with the numbers of your foes. Think
+     only that it is yours to lessen them. Remember that Peace can never
+     come to you, though you woo it never so sweetly. You must go to it,
+     even though your way thither lay through a sea of blood. You will
+     find me ever where danger is thickest. I will share your peril now
+     and your reward hereafter.”
+
+Inspired with new ardour, by the words and still more by the example of
+their leader, the soldiers proceeded to the task of constructing a
+breastwork for their defence. Bacon himself at imminent risk to his
+person, drew with his own hands the line for the entrenchment, while the
+soldiers prepared for themselves a secure defence from attack by a
+breastwork composed of felled trees, earth, and brushwood. It was a
+noble sight, I ween, to see these hardy patriots of the olden time,
+nearly sinking under fatigue, yet working cheerfully and ardently in the
+cause of freedom—to hear their axes ringing merrily through the still
+night air, and the tall forest trees falling with a heavy crash, as they
+were preparing their rude fortifications; and to look up on the cold,
+silent moon, as she watched them from her high path in heaven, and you
+might almost think, smiled with cold disdain, to think that all their
+hopes would be blasted, and their ardour checked by defeat, while she in
+her pride of fulness would traverse that same high arch twelve hundred
+times before the day-star of freedom dawned upon the land.
+
+Meantime the besieged loyalists having heard with surprise and
+consternation, the story of Mrs. Temple and Virginia, were completely
+confounded. Fearing to fire a single gun, lest the ball intended for
+their adversaries might pierce the heart of some innocent woman, they
+were forced to await with impatience the completion of the works of the
+insurgents. The latter had not the same reason for forbearance, and made
+several successful sorties upon the palisades, which surrounded the
+town, effecting several breaches, and killing some men, but without loss
+to any their own party. Furious at the successful stratagems of the
+rebels and fearing an accession to their number from the surrounding
+country, Sir William Berkeley at length determined to make a sally from
+the town, and test the strength and courage of his adversaries in an
+open field. Bacon, meanwhile, having effected his object in securing a
+sufficient fortification, with much courtesy dismissed the captive
+ladies, who went, rejoicing at their liberation, to tell the story of
+their wrongs to their loyal husbands.
+
+The garrison of Jamestown consisting of about twenty cavalier loyalists,
+and eight hundred raw, undisciplined recruits, picked up by Berkeley
+during his stay in Accomac, were led on firmly towards the entrenchments
+of the rebels, by Beverley and Ludwell, who stood high in the confidence
+of the Governor, and in the esteem of the colony, as brave and
+chivalrous men. Among the subordinate officers in the garrison was
+Alfred Bernard, rejoicing in the commission of captain, but recently
+conferred, and burning to distinguish himself in a contest against the
+rebels. From their posts behind the entrenchment, the insurgents calmly
+watched the approach of their foes. Undismayed by their numbers, nearly
+four times as great as their own, they awaited patiently the signal of
+their general to begin the attack. Bacon, on his part, with all the
+ardour of his nature, possessed in an equal degree the coolness and
+prudence of a great general, and was determined not to risk a fire,
+until the enemy was sufficiently near to ensure heavy execution. When at
+length the front line of the assailants advanced within sixty yards of
+the entrenchment, he gave the word, which was obeyed with tremendous
+effect, and then without leaving their posts, they prepared to renew
+their fire. But it was not necessary. Despite the exhortations and
+prayers of their gallant officers, the royal army, dismayed at the first
+fire of the enemy, broke ranks and retreated, leaving their drum and
+their dead upon the field. In vain did Ludwell exhort them, in the name
+of the king, to return to the assault; in vain did the brave Beverley
+implore them as Virginians and Englishmen not to desert their colors; in
+vain did Alfred Bernard conjure them to retrieve the character of
+soldiers and of men, and to avenge the cause of wronged and insulted
+women upon the cowardly oppressors. Regardless alike of king, country or
+the laws of gallantry, the soldiers ran like frightened sheep, from
+their pursuers, nor stopped in their flight until once more safely
+ensconced behind their batteries, and under the protection of the cannon
+from the ships. The brave cavaliers looked aghast at this cowardly
+defection, and stood for a moment irresolute, with the guns of the
+insurgents bearing directly upon them. Bacon could easily have fired
+upon them with certain effect, but with the magnanimity of a brave man,
+he was struck with admiration for their dauntless courage, and with pity
+for their helplessness. Nor was he by any means anxious to pursue them,
+for he feared lest a victory so easily won, might be a stratagem of the
+enemy, and that by venturing to pursue, he might fall into an ambuscade.
+Contenting himself, therefore, with the advantage he had already gained,
+he remained behind his entrenchment, determined to wait patiently for
+the morrow, before he commenced another attack upon the town.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+    “Let's leave this town; for they are hairbrained slaves,
+    And hunger will enforce them to be more eager.
+    Of old I know them; rather with their teeth
+    The walls they'll tear down, than forsake the siege.”
+                                                  _King Henry VI._
+
+
+It was very late, but there were few in Jamestown on that last night of
+its existence that cared to sleep. Those who were not kept awake by the
+cares of state or military duties, were yet suffering from an intense
+apprehension, which denied them repose. There was “hurrying to and fro,”
+along Stuart street, and “whispering with white lips,” among the
+thronging citizens. Ever siding with the stronger party, and inclined to
+attribute to the besieged Governor the whole catalogue of evils under
+which the colony was groaning, many of the lower classes of the citizens
+expressed their sympathy with Nathaniel Bacon, and only awaited a secret
+opportunity to desert to his ranks. A conspiracy was ripening among the
+soldiery to open the gates to the insurgents, and surrender at once the
+town and the Governor into their hands—but over-awed by the resolute
+boldness of their leader, and wanting in the strength of will to act for
+themselves, they found it difficult to carry their plan into execution.
+
+Sir William Berkeley, with a few of his steady adherents and faithful
+friends, was anxiously awaiting, in the large hall of the palace, the
+tidings of the recent sally upon the besiegers. Notwithstanding the
+superior numbers of his men, he had but little confidence either in
+their loyalty or courage, while he was fully conscious of the desperate
+bravery of the insurgents. While hope whispered that the little band of
+rebels must yield to the overwhelming force of the garrison, fear
+interposed, to warn him of the danger of defection and cowardice in his
+ranks. As thus he sat anxiously endeavouring to guess the probable
+result of his sally, heavy footsteps were heard ascending the stairs.
+The heart of the old Governor beat thick with apprehension, and the damp
+drops wrung from him by anxiety and care, stood in cold beads upon his
+brow.
+
+“What news?” he cried, in a hoarse, agitated voice, as Colonel Ludwell,
+Robert Beverley, and Alfred Bernard entered the room. “But I read it in
+your countenances! All is lost!”
+
+“Yes, Governor Berkeley,” said Philip Ludwell, “all is lost! we have not
+even the melancholy consolation of Francis, 'that our honour is
+preserved.' The cowardly hinds who followed us, fled from the first
+charge of the rebels, like frightened hares. All attempts to rally them
+were in vain, and many of them we understand have joined with the
+rebels.”
+
+As the fatal tidings fell upon his ear, Berkeley pressed his hand to his
+forehead, and sobbed aloud. The heart of the brave old loyalist could
+bear no more—and all the haughty dignity of his nature gave way in a
+flood of bitter tears. But the effect was only transient, and nerving
+himself, he controlled his feelings once more by the energy of his iron
+will.
+
+“How many still remain with us?” he asked, anxiously, of Ludwell.
+
+“Alas! sir, if the rumour which we heard as we came hither be
+true—none, absolutely none. There was an immense crowd gathered around
+the tavern, listening to the news of our defeat from one of the
+soldiers, and as we passed a loud and insulting cry went up of “Long
+live Bacon! and down with tyranny!” The soldiers declared that they
+would not stain their hands with the blood of their fellow-subjects; the
+citizens as vehemently declared that the town itself should not long
+harbour those who had trampled on their rights. Treason stalks abroad
+boldly and openly, and I fear that the loyalty of Virginia is confined
+to this room.”
+
+“Now, Heaven help me,” said Berkeley, sadly, “for the world has well
+nigh deserted me. And yet, if I fall, I shall fall at my post, and the
+trust bestowed upon me by my king shall be yielded only with my life.”
+
+“It were madness to think of remaining longer here,” said Beverley; “the
+rebels, with the most consummate courage, evince the most profound
+prudence and judgment. Before the dawn they will bring their cannon to
+bear upon our ships and force them to withdraw from the harbour, and
+then all means of escape being cut off, we will be forced to surrender
+on such terms as the enemy may dictate.”
+
+“We will yield to no terms,” replied Berkeley. “For myself, death is far
+preferable to dishonour. Rather than surrender the trust which I have in
+charge, let us remain here, until, like the brave senators of Rome, we
+are hacked to pieces at our posts by the swords of these barbarians.”
+
+“But what can you expect to gain by such a desperate course,” said old
+Ballard, who, though not without a sufficient degree of courage, would
+prefer rather to admire the heroism of the Roman patriots in history,
+than to vie with them in their desperate resolution.
+
+“I expect to retain my honour,” cried the brave old Governor. “A brave
+man may suffer death—he can never submit to dishonour.”
+
+“My honoured Governor,” said Major Beverley, whose well-known courage
+and high-toned chivalry gave great effect to his counsel; “believe me,
+that we all admire your steady loyalty and your noble heroism. But
+reflect, that you gain nothing by desperation, and it is the part of
+true courage not to hazard a desperate risk without any hope of success.
+God knows that I would willingly yield up my own life to preserve
+unsullied the honour of my country, and the dignity of my king; but I
+doubt how far we serve his real interests by a deliberate sacrifice of
+all who are loyal to his cause.”
+
+“And what then would you advise?” said the Governor, in an irritated
+manner. “To make a base surrender of our persons and our cause, and to
+grant to these insolent rebels every concession which their insolence
+may choose to demand? No! gentlemen, sooner would William Berkeley
+remain alone at his post, until his ashes mingled with the ashes of this
+palace, than yield one inch to rebels in arms.”
+
+“It is not necessary,” returned Beverley. “You may escape without loss
+of life or compromise of honour, and reserve until a future day your
+vengeance on these disloyal barbarians.”
+
+Berkeley was silent.
+
+“Look,” continued Beverley, leading the old loyalist to the window which
+overlooked the river; “by the light of dawn you can see the white sails
+of the Adam and Eve, as she rests at anchor in yonder harbor. There is
+still time to escape before the rebels can suspect our design. Once upon
+the deck of that little vessel, with her sails unfurled to this rising
+breeze, you may defy the threats of the besiegers. Then once more to
+your faithful Accomac, and when the forces from England shall arrive,
+trained bands of loyal and brave Britons, your vengeance shall then be
+commensurate with the indignities you have suffered.”
+
+Still Berkeley hesitated, but his friends could see by the quiver of his
+lip, that the struggle was still going on, and that he was thinking with
+grim satisfaction of that promised vengeance.
+
+“Let me urge you,” continued Beverley, encouraged by the effect which he
+was evidently producing; “let me urge you to a prompt decision. Will you
+remain longer in Jamestown, this nest of traitors, and expose your
+faithful adherents to certain death? Is loyalty so common in Virginia,
+that you will suffer these brave supporters of your cause to be
+sacrificed? Will you leave their wives and daughters, whom they can no
+longer defend, to the insults and outrages of a band of lawless
+adventurers, who have shown that they disregard the rights of men, and
+the more sacred deference due to a woman? We have done all that became
+us, as loyal citizens, to do. We have sustained the standard of the king
+until it were madness, not courage, further to oppose the designs of the
+rebels. Beset by a superior force, and with treason among our own
+citizens, and defection among our own soldiers—with but twenty stout
+hearts still true and faithful to their trust—our alternative is
+between surrender and death on the one hand, and flight and future
+vengeance on the other. Can you longer hesitate between the two? But
+see, the sky grows brighter toward the east, and the morning comes to
+increase the perils of the night. I beseech you, by my loyalty and my
+devotion to your interest, decide quickly and wisely.”
+
+“I will go,” replied Berkeley, after a brief pause, in a voice choking
+with emotion. “But God is my witness, that if I only were concerned,
+rebellion should learn that there was a loyalist who held his sacred
+trust so near his heart, that it could only be yielded with his
+life-blood. But why should I thus boast? Do with me as you please—I
+will go.”
+
+No sooner was Berkeley's final decision known, than the whole palace was
+in a state of preparation. Hurriedly putting up such necessaries as
+would be needed in their temporary exile, the loyalists were soon ready
+for their sudden departure. Lady Frances, stately as ever, remained
+perhaps rather longer before her mirror, in the arrangement of her tire,
+than was consistent with their hasty flight. Virginia Temple scarcely
+devoted a moment for her own preparations, so constantly was her
+assistance required by her mother, who bustled about from trunk to
+trunk, in a perfect agony of haste—found she had locked up her mantle,
+which was in the very bottom of an immense trunk, and finally, when she
+had put her spectacles and keys in her pocket, declared that they were
+lost, and required Virginia to search in every hole and corner of the
+room for them. But with all these delays—ever incident to ladies, and
+old ones especially, when starting on a journey—the little party were
+at length announced to be ready for their “moonlight flitting.” Sadly
+and silently they left the palace to darkness and solitude, and
+proceeded towards the river. At the bottom of the garden, which ran down
+to the banks of the river, were two large boats, belonging to the
+Governor, and which were often used in pleasure excursions. In these the
+fugitives embarked, and under the muscular efforts of the strong
+oarsmen, the richly freighted boats scudded rapidly through the water
+towards the good ship “Adam and Eve,” which lay at a considerable
+distance from the shore, to avoid the guns of the insurgents.
+
+Alfred Bernard had the good fortune to have the fair Virginia under his
+immediate charge; but the hearts of both were too full to improve the
+opportunity with much conversation. The young intriguer, who cared but
+little in his selfish heart for either loyalists or rebels, still felt
+that he had placed his venture on a wrong card, and was about to lose.
+The hopes of preferment which he had cherished were about to be
+dissipated by the ill fortune of his patron, and the rival of his love,
+crowned with success, he feared, might yet bear away the prize which he
+had so ardently coveted. Virginia Temple had more generous cause for
+depression than he. Hers was the hard lot to occupy a position of
+neutrality in interest between the contending parties. Whichever faction
+in the State succeeded, she must be a mourner; for, in either case, she
+was called upon to sacrifice an idol which she long had cherished, and
+which she must now yield for ever. They sat together near the stern of
+the boat, and watched the moonlight diamonds which sparkled for a moment
+on the white spray that dropped from the dripping oar, and then passed
+away.
+
+“It is thus,” said Bernard, with a heavy sigh. “It is thus with this
+present transient life. We dance for a moment upon the white waves of
+fortune, rejoicing in light and hope and joy—but the great, unfeeling
+world rolls on, regardless of our little life, while we fade even while
+we sparkle, and our places are supplied by others, who in their turn,
+dance and shine, and smile, and pass away, and are forgotten!”
+
+“It is even so,” said Virginia, sadly—then turning her blue eyes
+upward, she added, sweetly, “but see, Mr. Bernard, the moon which shines
+so still and beautiful in heaven, partakes not of the changes of these
+reflected fragments of her brightness. So we, when reunited to the
+heaven from which our spirits came, will shine again unchangeable and
+happy.”
+
+“Yes, my sweet one,” replied her lover passionately, “and were it my
+destiny to be ever thus with you, and to hear the sweet eloquence of
+your pure lips, I would not need a place in heaven to be happy.”
+
+“Mr. Bernard,” said Virginia, “is this a time or place to speak thus?
+The circumstances by which we are surrounded should check every selfish
+thought for the time, in our care for the more important interests at
+stake.”
+
+“My fair, young loyalist,” said Bernard, “and is it because of the
+interest excited in your bosom by the fading cause of loyalty, that you
+check so quickly the slightest word of admiration from one whom you have
+called your friend? Nay, fair maiden, be truthful even though you
+should be cruel.”
+
+“To be candid, then, Mr. Bernard,” returned Virginia, “I thought we had
+long ago consented not to mention that subject again. I hope you will be
+faithful to your promise.”
+
+“My dearest Virginia, that compact was made when your heart had been
+given to another whom you thought worthy to reign there. Surely, you
+cannot, after the events of to-night oppose such an obstacle to my suit.
+Your gentle heart, my girl, is too pure and holy a shrine to afford
+refuge to a rebel, and a profaner of woman's sacred rights.”
+
+“Mr. Bernard,” said Virginia, “another word on this subject, and I seek
+refuge myself from your insults. You, who are the avowed champion of
+woman's rights, should know that she owns no right so sacred as to
+control the affections of her own heart. I have before told you in terms
+too plain to be misunderstood, that I can never love you. Force me not
+to repeat what you profess may give you pain, and above all force me not
+by your unwelcome and ungenerous assaults upon an absent rival to
+substitute for the real interest which I feel in your happiness, a
+feeling more strong and decided, but less friendly.”
+
+“You mean that you would hate me,” said Bernard, cut to the heart at her
+language, at once so firm and decided, yet so guarded and courteous.
+“Very well,” he added, with an hauteur but illy assumed. “I trust I have
+more independence and self-respect than to intrude my attentions or
+conversation where they are unwelcome. But see, our journey is at an
+end, and though Miss Temple might have made it more pleasant, I am glad
+that we are freed from the embarrassment that we both must feel in a
+more extended interview.”
+
+And now the loud voice of Captain Gardiner is heard demanding their
+names and wishes, which are soon told. The hoarse cable grates harshly
+along the ribs of the vessel, and the boats are drawn up close to her
+broadside, and the loyal fugitives ascending the rude and tremulous
+rope-ladder, stand safe and sound upon the deck of the Adam and Eve.
+
+Scarcely had Berkeley and his adherents departed on their flight from
+Jamestown, when some of the disaffected citizens of the town, seeing the
+lights in the palace so suddenly extinguished, shrewdly suspected their
+design. Without staying to ascertain the truth of their suspicions, they
+hastened with the intelligence to General Bacon, and threw open the
+gates to the insurgents. Highly elated with the easy victory they had
+gained over the loyalists, the triumphant patriots forgetting their
+fatigue and hunger, marched into the city, amid the loud acclamations of
+the fickle populace. But to the surprise of all there was still a gloom
+resting upon Bacon and his officers. That cautious and far-seeing man
+saw at a glance, that although he had gained an immense advantage over
+the royalists, in the capture of the metropolis, it was impossible to
+retain it in possession long. As soon as his army was dispersed, or
+engaged in another quarter of the colony, it would be easy for Berkeley,
+with the navy under his command, to return to the place, and erect once
+more the fallen standard of loyalty.
+
+While then, the soldiery were exulting rapturously over their triumph,
+Bacon, surrounded by his officers, was gravely considering the best
+policy to pursue.
+
+“My little army is too small,” he said, “to leave a garrison here, and
+so long as they remain thus organized peace will be banished from the
+colony; and yet I cannot leave the town to become again the harbour of
+these treacherous loyalists.”
+
+“I can suggest no policy that is fit to pursue, in such an emergency,”
+said Hansford, “except to retain possession of the town, at least until
+the Governor is fairly in Accomac again.”
+
+“That, at best,” said Bacon, “will only be a dilatory proceeding, for
+sooner or later, whenever the army is disbanded, the stubborn old
+governor will return and force us to continue the war. And besides I
+doubt whether we could maintain the place with Brent besieging us in
+front, and the whole naval force of Virginia, under the command of such
+expert seamen as Gardiner and Larimore, attacking us from the river. No,
+no, the only way to untie the Gordian knot is to cut it, and the only
+way to extricate ourselves from this difficulty is to burn the town.”
+
+This policy, extreme as it was, in the necessities of their condition
+was received with a murmur of assent. Lawrence and Drummond, devoted
+patriots, and two of the wealthiest and most enterprising citizens of
+the town, evinced their willingness to sacrifice their private means to
+secure the public good, by firing their own houses. Emulating an example
+so noble and disinterested, other citizens followed in their wake. The
+soldiers, ever ready for excitement, joined in the fatal work. A stiff
+breeze springing up, favored their design, and soon the devoted town was
+enveloped in the greedy flames.
+
+From the deck of the Adam and Eve, the loyalists witnessed the stern,
+uncompromising resolution of the rebels. The sun was just rising, and
+his broad, red disc was met in his morning glory with flames as bright
+and as intense as his own. The Palace, the State House, the large Garter
+Tavern, the long line of stores, and the Warehouse, all in succession
+were consumed. The old Church, the proud old Church, where their fathers
+had worshipped, was the last to meet its fate. The fire seemed unwilling
+to attack its sacred walls, but it was to fall with the rest; and as the
+broad sails of the gay vessel were spread to the morning breeze, which
+swelled them, that devoted old Church was seen in its raiment of fire,
+like some old martyr, hugging the flames which consumed it, and pointing
+with its tapering steeple to an avenging Heaven.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+    “We take no note of time but by its loss.”
+                                            _Young._
+
+
+It is permitted to the story teller, like the angels of ancient
+metaphysicians, to pass from point to point, and from event to event,
+without traversing the intermediate space or time. A romance thus
+becomes a moving panorama, where the prominent objects of interest pass
+in review before the eyes of the spectator, and not an atlas or chart,
+where the toiling student, with rigid scrutiny must seek the latitude
+and longitude of every object which meets his view.
+
+Availing ourselves of this privilege, we will pass rapidly over the
+events which occurred subsequently to the burning of Jamestown, and
+again resume the narrative where it more directly affects the fortunes
+of Hansford and Virginia. We will then suppose that it is about the
+first of January, 1677, three months after the circumstances detailed in
+the last chapter. Nathaniel Bacon, the arch rebel, as the loyal
+historians and legislators of his day delighted to call him, has passed
+away from the scenes of earth. The damp trenches of Jamestown, more
+fatal than the arms of his adversaries, have stilled the restless
+beating of that bold heart, which in other circumstances might have
+insured success to the cause of freedom. An industrious compiler of the
+laws of Virginia, and an ingenious commentator on her Colonial History,
+has suggested from the phraseology of one of the Acts of the Assembly,
+that Bacon met his fate by the dagger of the assassin, employed by the
+revengeful Berkeley. But the account of his death is too authentic to
+admit of such a supposition, and the character of Sir William Berkeley,
+already clouded with relentless cruelty, is happily freed from the foul
+imputation, that to the prejudices and sternness of the avenging
+loyalist he added the atrocity of a malignant fiend. We have the most
+authentic testimony, that Nathaniel Bacon died of a dysentery,
+contracted by his exposure in the trenches of Jamestown, at the house of
+a Dr. Pate, in the county of Gloucester; and that the faithful Lawrence,
+to screen his insensate clay from the rude vengeance of the Governor,
+gave the young hero a grave in some unknown forest, where after life's
+fitful fever he sleeps well.
+
+The cause of freedom, having lost its head, fell a prey to discord and
+defection. In the selection of a leader to succeed the gallant Bacon,
+dissensions prevailed among the insurgents, and disgusted at last with
+the trials to which they were exposed, and wearied with the continuance
+of a civil war, the great mass of the people retired quietly to their
+homes. Ingram and Walklate, who attempted to revive the smouldering
+ashes of the rebellion, were the embodiments of frivolity and stupidity,
+and were unable to retain that influence over the stern and high-toned
+patriots which was essential to united action. Deprived of their
+support, as may be easily conjectured, there was no longer any
+difficulty in suppressing the ill-fated rebellion; and Walklate,
+foreseeing the consequences of further resistance, resolved to make a
+separate peace for himself and a few personal friends, and to leave his
+more gallant comrades to their fate. The terms of treaty proposed by
+Berkeley were dispatched by Captain Gardiner to the selfish leader, who,
+with the broken remnant of the insurgents, was stationed at West Point.
+He acceded to the terms with avidity, and thus put a final end to a
+rebellion, which, even at that early day, was so near securing the
+blessings of rational freedom to Virginia.
+
+Meantime, the long expected aid from England had arrived, and Berkeley,
+with an organized and reliable force at his command, prepared, with grim
+satisfaction, to execute his terrible vengeance upon the proscribed and
+fugitive insurgents. Major Beverley, at the head of a considerable
+force, was dispatched in pursuit of such of the unhappy men as might
+linger secreted in the woods and marshes near the river—and smaller
+parties were detailed for the same object in other parts of the colony.
+Many of the fugitives were captured and brought before the relentless
+Governor. There, mocked and insulted in their distress, the devoted
+patriots were condemned by a court martial, and with cruel haste hurried
+to execution. The fate of the gallant Lawrence, to whom incidental
+allusion has been frequently made in the foregoing pages, was long
+uncertain—but at last those interested in his fate were forced to the
+melancholy conclusion, that well nigh reduced to starvation in his
+marshy fastness, with Roman firmness, the brave patriot fell by his own
+hand, rather than submit to the ruthless cruelty of the vindictive
+Governor.
+
+Thomas Hansford was among those who were proscribed fugitives from the
+vengeance of the loyalists. He had in vain endeavoured to rally the
+dispirited insurgents, and to hazard once more the event of a battle
+with the royal party. He indignantly refused to accept the terms, so
+readily embraced by Walklate, and determined to share the fate of those
+brave comrades, in whose former triumph he had participated. And now, a
+lonely wanderer, he eluded the vigilant pursuit of his enemies, awaiting
+with anxiety, the respite which royal interposition would grant, to the
+unabating vengeance of the governor. He was not without strong hope that
+the clemency which reflected honour on Charles the Second, towards the
+enemies of his father, would be extended to the promoters of the
+ill-fated rebellion in Virginia. In default of this, he trusted to make
+his escape into Maryland, after the eagerness of pursuit was over, and
+there secretly to embark for England—where, under an assumed name, he
+might live out the remnant of his days in peace and security, if not in
+happiness. It was with a heavy heart that he looked forward to even this
+remote chance of escape and safety—for it involved the necessity of
+leaving, for ever, his widowed mother, who leaned upon his strong arm
+for support; and his beloved Virginia, in whose smiles of favour, he
+could alone be happy. Still, it was the only honourable chance that
+offered, and while as a brave man he had nerved himself for any fate, as
+a good man, he could not reject the means of safety which were extended
+to him.
+
+While these important changes were taking place in the political world,
+the family at Windsor Hall were differently affected by the result.
+Colonel Temple, in the pride of his gratified loyalty, could not
+disguise his satisfaction even from his unhappy daughter, and rubbed his
+hands gleefully as the glad tidings came that the rebellion had been
+quelled. The old lady shared his happiness with all her heart, but
+mingled with her joy some of the harmless vanity of her nature. She
+attributed the happy result in a good degree to the counsel and wisdom
+of her husband, and recurred with great delight to her own bountiful
+hospitality to the fugitive loyalists. Nay, in the excess of her
+self-gratulation, she even hinted an opinion, that if Colonel Temple had
+remained in England, the cause of loyalty would have been much advanced,
+and that General Monk would not have borne away the palm of having
+achieved the glorious restoration.
+
+But these loyal sentiments of gratulation met with no response in the
+heart of Virginia Temple. The exciting scenes through which she had
+lately passed had left their traces on her young heart. No more the
+laughing, thoughtless, happy girl whom we have known, shedding light and
+gaiety on all around her, she had gained, in the increased strength and
+development of her character, much to compensate for the loss. The
+furnace which evaporates the lighter particles of the ore, leaves the
+precious metal in their stead. Thus is it with the trying furnace of
+affliction in the formation of the human character, and such was its
+effect upon Virginia. She no longer thought or felt as a girl. She felt
+that she was a woman, called upon to act a woman's part; and relying on
+her strengthened nature, but more upon the hand whose protection she had
+early learned to seek, she was prepared to act that part. The fate of
+Hansford was unknown to her. She had neither seen nor heard from him
+since that awful night, when she parted from him at the gate of
+Jamestown. Convinced of his high sense of honour, and his heroic daring,
+she knew that he was the last to desert a falling cause, and she
+trembled for his life, should he fall into the hands of the enraged and
+relentless Berkeley. But even if her fears in this respect were
+groundless, the future was still dark to her. The bright dream which she
+had cherished, that he to whom, in the trusting truth of her young
+heart, she had plighted her troth, would share with her the joys and
+hopes of life, was now, alas! dissipated forever. A proscribed rebel, an
+outcast from home, her father's loyal prejudices were such that she
+could never hope to unite her destiny with Hansford. And yet, dreary as
+the future had become, she bore up nobly in the struggle, and, with
+patient submission, resigned her fate to the will of Heaven.
+
+Her chief employment now was to train the mind of the young Mamalis to
+truth, and in this sacred duty she derived new consolation in her
+affliction. The young Indian girl had made Windsor Hall her home since
+the death of her brother. The generous nature of Colonel Temple could
+not refuse to the poor orphan, left alone on earth without a protector,
+a refuge and a home beneath his roof. Nor were the patient and prayerful
+instructions of Virginia without their reward. The light which had long
+been struggling to obtain an entrance to her heart, now burst forth in
+the full effulgence of the truth, and the trusting Mamalis had felt, in
+all its beauty and reality, the assurance of the promise, “Come unto me
+all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Her
+manners, which, with all of her association with Virginia, had something
+of the wildness of the savage, were now softened and subdued. Her
+picturesque but wild costume, which reminded her of her former life, was
+discarded for the more modest dress which the refinement of civilization
+had prescribed. Her fine, expressive countenance, which had often been
+darkened by reflecting the wild passions of her unsubdued heart, was now
+radiant with peaceful joy; and as you gazed upon the softened
+expression, the tranquil and composed bearing of the young girl, you
+might well “take knowledge of her that she had been with Jesus.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+    “Farewell and blessings on thy way,
+      Where'r thou goest, beloved stranger,
+    Better to sit and watch that ray,
+    And think thee safe though far away,
+      Than have thee near me and in danger.”
+                                      _Lalla Roohk._
+
+
+Moonlight at Windsor Hall! The waning, January moon shone coldly and
+brightly, as it rose above the dense forest which surrounded the once
+more peaceful home of Colonel Temple. The tall poplars which shaded the
+quiet yard were silvered with its light, and looked like medieval
+knights all clad in burnished and glistening mail. The crisp hoarfrost
+that whitened the frozen ground sparkled in the mellow beams, like
+twinkling stars, descended to earth, and drinking in with rapture the
+clear light of their native heaven. Not a sound was heard save the
+dreary, wintry blast, as it sighed its mournful requiem over the dead
+year, “gone from the earth for ever.”
+
+Virginia Temple had not yet retired to rest, although it was growing
+late. She was sitting alone, in her little chamber, and watching the
+glowing embers on the hearth, as they sparkled for a moment, and shed a
+ruddy light around, and then were extinguished, throwing the whole room
+into dark shadow. Sad emblem, these fleeting sparks, of the hopes that
+had once been bright before her, assuming fancied shapes of future joy
+and peace and love, and then dying to leave her sad heart the darker for
+their former presence. In the solitude of her own thoughts she was
+taking a calm review of her past life—her early childhood—when she
+played in innocent mirth beneath the shade of the oaks and poplars that
+still stood unchanged in the yardher first acquaintance with Hansford,
+which opened a new world to her young heart, replete with joys and
+treasures unknown before—all the thrilling events of the last few
+months—her last meeting with her lover, and his prayer that she at
+least would not censure him, when he was gone—her present despondency
+and gloom—all these thoughts came in slow and solemn procession across
+her mind, like dreary ghosts of the buried past.
+
+Suddenly she was startled from her reverie by the sound of a low, sweet,
+familiar voice, beneath her window, and, as she listened, the melancholy
+spirit of the singer sought and found relief in the following tender
+strains:
+
+    “Once more I seek thy quiet home,
+      My tale of love to tell,
+    Once more from danger's field I come,
+      To breathe a last farewell!
+          Though hopes are flown,
+          Though friends are gone;
+    Yet wheresoe'r I flee,
+          I still retain,
+          And hug the chain
+    Which binds my soul to thee.
+
+    “My heart, like some lone chamber left,
+      Must, mouldering, fall at last;
+    Of hope, of love, of thee bereft,
+      It lives but in the past.
+          With jealous care,
+          I cherish there
+    The web, however small,
+          That memory weaves,
+          And mercy leaves,
+      Upon that ruined wall.
+
+    “Though Tyranny, with bloody laws,
+      May dig my early grave,
+    Yet death, when met in Freedom's cause,
+      Is sweetest to the brave;
+          Wedded to her,
+          Without a fear,
+      I'll mount her funeral pile,
+          Welcome the death
+          Which seals my faith,
+      And meet it with a smile.
+
+    “While, like the tides, that softly swell
+      To kiss their mother moon,
+    Thy gentle soul will soar to dwell
+      In visions with mine own;
+          As skies distil
+          The dews that fill
+      The blushing rose at even,
+          So blest above,
+          I'll mourn thy love
+      And weep for thee in heaven.”
+
+It needed not the well-known voice of Hansford to assure the weeping
+girl that he was near her. The burden of that sad song, which found an
+echo in her own heart, told her too plainly that it could be only he. It
+was no time for delicate scruples of propriety. She only knew that he
+was near her and in danger. Rising from her chair, and throwing around
+her a shawl to protect her from the chill night air, she hastened to the
+door. In another moment they were in each other's arms.
+
+“Oh, my own Virginia,” said Hansford, “this is too, too kind. I had only
+thought to come and breathe a last farewell, and then steal from your
+presence for ever. I felt that it was a privilege to be near you, to
+watch, unseen, the flickering light reflected from your presence. This
+itself had been reward sufficient for the peril I encounter. How sweet
+then to hear once more the accents of your voice, and to feel once more
+the warm beating of your faithful heart.”
+
+“And could you think,” said Virginia, as she wept upon his shoulder,
+“that knowing you to be in danger, I could fail to see you. Oh,
+Hansford! you little know the truth of woman's love if you can for a
+moment doubt that your misfortune and your peril have made you doubly
+dear.”
+
+“Yet how brief must be my stay. The avenger is behind me, and I must
+soon resume my lonely wandering.”
+
+“And will you again leave me?” asked Virginia, in a reproachful tone.
+
+“Leave you, dearest, oh, how sweet would be my fate, after all my cares
+and sufferings, if I could but die here. But this must not be. Though I
+trust I know how to meet death as a brave man, yet it is my duty, as a
+good man, to leave no honourable means untried to save my life.”
+
+“But your danger cannot be so great, dearest,” said Virginia, tenderly.
+“Surely my father—”
+
+“Would feel it his duty,” said Hansford, interrupting her, “to deliver
+me up to justice; and feeling it to be such, he would have the moral
+firmness to discharge it. Poor old gentleman! like many of his party,
+his prejudice perverts his true and generous heart. My poor country must
+suffer long before she can overcome the opposition of bigoted loyalty.
+Forgive me for speaking thus of your noble father, Virginia—but
+prejudices like these are the thorns which spring up in his heart and
+choke the true word of freedom, and render it unfruitful. Is it not so,
+dearest?”
+
+“You mistake his generous nature,” said Virginia, earnestly. “You
+mistake his love for me. You mistake his sound judgment. You mistake his
+high sense of honour. Think you that he sees no difference between the
+man who, impelled by principle, asserts what he believes to be a right,
+and him, who for his own selfish ends and personal advancement, would
+sacrifice his country. Yes, my dear friend, you mistake my father. He
+will gladly interpose with the Governor and restore you to happiness, to
+freedom, and to—”
+
+She paused, unable to proceed for the sobs that choked her utterance,
+and then gave vent to a flood of passionate grief.
+
+“You would add, 'and to thee,'” said Hansford, finishing the sentence.
+“God knows, my girl, that such a hope would make me dare more peril than
+I have yet encountered. But, alas! if it were even as you say, what
+weight would his remonstrance have with that imperious old tyrant,
+Berkeley? It would be but the thistle-down against the cannon ball in
+the scales of his justice.”
+
+“He dare not refuse my father's demands,” said Virginia. “One who has
+been so devoted to his cause, who has sacrificed so much for his king,
+and who has afforded shelter and protection to the Governor himself in
+the hour of his peril and need, is surely entitled to this poor favour
+at his hands. He dare not refuse to grant it.”
+
+“Alas! Virginia, you little know the character of Sir William Berkeley,
+when you say he dares not. But the very qualities which you claim, and
+justly claim, for your father, would prevent him from exerting that
+influence with the Governor which your hopes whisper would be so
+successful—'His noble nature' would prompt him at any sacrifice to
+yield personal feeling to a sense of public duty. 'His love for you'
+would prompt him to rescue you from the _rebel_ who dared aspire to your
+hand. 'His sound judgment' would dictate the maxim, that it were well
+for one man to die for the people; and his 'high sense of honour' would
+prevent him from interposing between a condemned _traitor_ and his
+deserved doom. Be assured, Virginia, that thus would your father reason;
+and with his views of loyalty and justice, I could not blame him for the
+conclusion to which he came.”
+
+“Then in God's name,” cried Virginia, in an agony of desperation, for
+she saw the force of Hansford's views, “how can you shun this
+threatening danger? Whither can you fly?”
+
+“My only hope,” said Hansford, gloomily, “is to leave the Colony and
+seek refuge in Maryland, though I fear that this is hopeless. If I fail
+in this, then I must lurk in some hiding place until instructions from
+England may arrive, and check the vindictive Berkeley in his ruthless
+cruelty.”
+
+“And is there a hope of that!” said Virginia, quickly.
+
+“There is a faint hope, and that slender thread is all that hangs
+between me and a traitor's doom. But I rely with some confidence upon
+the mild and humane policy pursued by Charles toward the enemies of his
+father. At any rate, it is all that is left me, and you know the
+proverb,” he added, with a sad smile, “'A drowning man catches at
+straws.' Any chance, however slight, appears larger when seen through
+the gloom of approaching despair, just as any object seems greater when
+seen through a mist.”
+
+“It is not, it shall not be slight,” said the hopeful girl, “we will lay
+hold upon it with firm and trusting hearts, and it will cheer us in our
+weary way, and then—”
+
+But here the conversation was interrupted by the sound of approaching
+footsteps, and the light, graceful form of Mamalis stood before them.
+The quick ear of the Indian girl had caught the first low notes of
+Hansford's serenade, even while she slept, and listening attentively to
+the sound, she had heard Virginia leave the room and go down stairs.
+Alarmed at her prolonged absence, Mamalis could no longer hesitate on
+the propriety of ascertaining its cause, and hastily dressing herself,
+she ran down to the open door and joined the lovers as we have stated.
+
+“We are discovered,” said Hansford, in a surprised but steady voice.
+“Farewell, Virginia.” And he was about to rush from the place, when
+Virginia interposed.
+
+“Fear nothing from her,” she said. “Her trained ear caught the sounds of
+our voices more quickly than could the duller senses of the European.
+You are in no danger; and her opportune presence suggests a plan for
+your escape.”
+
+“What is that?” asked Hansford, anxiously.
+
+“First tell me,” said Virginia, “how long it will probably be before the
+milder policy of Charles will arrest the Governor in his vengeance.”
+
+“It is impossible to guess with accuracy—if, indeed, it ever should
+come. But the king has heard for some time of the suppression of the
+enterprise, and it can scarcely be more than two weeks before we hear
+from him. But to what does your question tend?”
+
+“Simply this,” returned Virginia. “The wigwam of Mamalis is only about
+two miles from the hall, and in so secluded a spot that it is entirely
+unknown to any of the Governor's party. There we can supply your present
+wants, and give you timely warning of any approaching danger. The old
+wigwam is a good deal dilapidated, but then it will at least afford you
+shelter from the weather.”
+
+“And from that ruder storm which threatens me,” said Hansford, gloomily.
+“You are right. I know the place well, and trust it may be a safe
+retreat, at least for the present. But, alas! how sad is my fate,—to be
+skulking from justice like a detected thief or murderer, afraid to show
+my face to my fellow in the open day, and starting like a frightened
+deer at every approaching sound. Oh, it is too horrible!”
+
+“Think not of it thus,” said Virginia, in an encouraging voice.
+“Remember it only as the dull twilight that divides the night from the
+morning. This painful suspense will soon be over; and then, safe and
+happy, we will smile at the dangers we have passed.”
+
+“No, Virginia,” said Hansford, in the same gloomy voice, “you are too
+hopeful. There is a whispering voice within that tells me that this plan
+will not succeed, and that we cannot avoid the dangers which threaten
+me. No,” he cried, throwing off the gloom which hung over him, while his
+fine blue eye flashed with pride. “No! The decree has gone forth! Every
+truth must succeed with blood. If the blood of the martyrs be the seed
+of the Church, it may also enrich the soil where liberty must grow; and
+far rather would I that my blood should be shed in such a cause, than
+that it should creep sluggishly in my veins through a long and useless
+life, until it clotted and stagnated in an ignoble grave.”
+
+“Oh, there spoke that fearful pride again,” said Virginia, with a deep
+sigh; “the pride that pursues its mad career, unheeding prudence,
+unguided by judgment, until it is at last checked by its own
+destruction. And would you not sacrifice the glory that you speak of,
+for me?”
+
+“You have long since furnished me the answer to that plea, my girl,” he
+replied, pressing her tenderly to his heart. “Do you remember, Lucasta,
+
+    'I had not loved thee, dear, so much,
+        Loved I not honour more.'
+
+Believe me, my Virginia, it is an honourable and not a glorious name I
+seek. Without the latter, life still would be happy and blessed when
+adorned by your smiles. Without the former, your smile and your love
+would add bitterness to the cup that dishonour would bid me quaff. And
+now, Virginia, farewell. The night air has chilled you, dearest—then
+go, and remember me in your dreams. One fond kiss, to keep virgined upon
+my lips till we meet again. Farewell, Mamalis—be faithful to your kind
+mistress.” And then imprinting one long, last kiss upon the fair cheek
+of the trusting Virginia, he turned from the door, and was soon lost
+from their sight in the dense forest.
+
+Once more in her own little room, Virginia, with a grateful heart, fell
+upon her knees, and poured forth her thanks to Him, who had thus far
+prospered her endeavours to minister to the cares and sorrows of her
+lover. With a calmer heart she sought repose, and wept herself to sleep
+with almost happy tears. Hansford, in the mean time, pursued his quiet
+way through the forest, his pathway sufficiently illumined by the pale
+moonlight, which came trembling through the moaning trees. The thoughts
+of the young rebel were fitfully gloomy or pleasant, as despondency and
+hope alternated in his breast. In that lonely walk he had an opportunity
+to reflect calmly and fully upon his past life. The present was indeed
+clouded with danger, and the future with uncertainty and gloom. Yet, in
+this self-examination, he saw nothing to justify reproach or to awaken
+regret. He scanned his motives, and he felt that they were pure. He
+reviewed his acts, and he saw in them but the struggles of a brave, free
+man in the maintenance of the right. The enterprise in which he had
+engaged had indeed failed, but its want of success did not affect the
+holiness of the design. Even in its failure, he proudly hoped that the
+seeds of truth had been sown in the popular mind, which might hereafter
+germinate and be developed into freedom. As these thoughts passed
+through his mind, a dim dream of the future glories of his country
+flashed across him. The bright heaven of the future seemed to open
+before him, as before the eyes of the dying Stephen—but soon it closed
+again, and all was dark.
+
+The wigwam which he entered, after a walk of about half an hour, was
+desolate enough, but its very loneliness made it a better safeguard
+against the vigilance of his pursuers. He closed the aperture which
+served for the door, with the large mat used for the purpose; then
+carefully priming his pistols, which he kept constantly by him in case
+of surprise, and wrapping his rough horseman's coat around him, he flung
+himself upon a mat in the centre of the wigwam, and sank into a profound
+slumber.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+    “He should be hereabouts. The doubling hare,
+    When flying from the swift pursuit of hounds,
+    Baying loud triumph, leaves her wonted path,
+    And seeks security within her nest.”
+                                    _The Captive._
+
+
+On the evening which followed the events narrated in the last chapter, a
+party of half a dozen horsemen might be seen riding leisurely along the
+road which led to Windsor Hall. From their dress and bearing they might
+at once be recognized as military men, and indeed it was a detachment of
+the force sent by Sir William Berkeley in search of such of the rebels
+as might be lurking in different sections of the country. At their head
+was Alfred Bernard, his tall and graceful form well set off by the
+handsome military dress of the period. Dignified by a captaincy of
+dragoons, the young intriguer at last thought himself on the high road
+to success, and his whole course was marked by a zealous determination
+to deserve by his actions the confidence reposed in him. For this his
+temper and his cold, selfish nature eminently fitted him. The vindictive
+Governor had no fear but that his vengeance would be complete, so long
+as Alfred Bernard acted as his agent.
+
+As the party approached the house, Colonel Temple, whose attention was
+arrested by such an unusual appearance in the then peaceful state of the
+country, came out to meet them, and with his usual bland courtesy
+invited them in, at the same time shaking Bernard warmly by the hand.
+The rough English soldiers, obeying the instructions of their host,
+conducted their horses to the stable, while the young captain followed
+his hospitable entertainer into the hall. Around the blazing fire, which
+crackled and roared in the broad hearth, the little family were gathered
+to hear the news.
+
+“Prythee, Captain Bernard, for I must not forget your new title,” said
+the colonel, “what is the cause of this demonstration? No further
+trouble with the rebels?”
+
+“No, no,” replied Bernard, “except to smoke the cowardly fellows out of
+their holes. In the words of your old bard, we have only scotched the
+snake, not killed it—and we are now seeking to bring the knaves to
+justice.”
+
+“And do you find them difficult to catch?” said the Colonel. “Is the
+scotched snake an 'anguis in herba?'”
+
+“Aye, but they cannot escape us. These worshippers of liberty, who would
+fain be martyrs to her cause, shall not elude the vigilance of justice.
+I need not add, that you are not the object of our search, Colonel.”
+
+“Scarcely, my lad,” returned Temple, with a smile, “for my mythology has
+taught me, that these kindred deities are so nearly allied that the true
+votaries of liberty will ever be pilgrims to the shrine of justice.”
+
+“And the pseudo votaries of freedom,” continued Bernard, “who would
+divide the sister goddesses, should be offered up as a sacrifice to
+appease the neglected deity.”
+
+“Well, maybe so,” returned Temple; “but neither religion nor government
+should demand human sacrifices to a great extent. A few of the prominent
+leaders might well be cut off to strike terror into the hearts of the
+rest. Thus the demands of justice would be satisfied, consistently with
+clemency which mercy would dictate.”
+
+“My dear sir, a hecatomb would not satisfy Berkeley. I am but his
+minister, and could not, if I would, arrest his arm. Even now I come by
+his express directions to ascertain whether any of the rebels may be
+secreted near your residence. While he does not for a moment suspect
+your loyalty, yet one of the villains, and he among the foremost in the
+rebellion, has been traced in this direction.”
+
+“Sir,” cried Temple, colouring with honest indignation; “dare you
+suspect that I could harbour a rebel beneath my roof! But remember, that
+I would as lief do that, abhorrent though it be to my principles, as to
+harbour a spy.”
+
+“My dear sir,” said Bernard, softly, “you mistake me most strangely, if
+you suppose that I could lodge such a suspicion for a moment in my
+heart; nor have I come as a spy upon your privacy, but to seek your
+counsel. Sir William Berkeley is so well convinced of your stern and
+unflinching faith, that he enjoins me to apply to you early for advice
+as to how I should proceed in my duty.”
+
+“Well, my dear boy,” said Temple, relapsing into good humour, for he was
+not proof against the tempting bait of flattery, “you must pardon the
+haste of an old man, who cannot bear any imputation upon his devotion to
+the cause of his royal master. While I cannot aid you in your search, my
+house is freely open to yourself and your party for such time as you may
+think proper to use it.”
+
+“You have my thanks, my dear sir,” said Bernard, “and indeed you are
+entitled to the gratitude of the whole government. Sir William Berkeley
+bade me say that he could never forget your kindness to him and his
+little band of fugitives; and Lady Frances often says that she scarcely
+regrets the cares and anxiety attending her flight, since they afforded
+her an opportunity of enjoying the society of Mrs. Temple in her own
+home, where she so especially shines.”
+
+“Indeed, we thank them both most cordially,” said Mrs. Temple. “It was a
+real pleasure to us to have them, I am sure; and though we hardly had
+time to make them as comfortable as they might have been, yet a poor
+feast, seasoned with a warm welcome, is fit for a king.”
+
+“I trust,” said Bernard, “that Miss Virginia unites with you in the
+interest which you profess in the cause of loyalty. May I hope, that
+should it ever be our fortune again to be thrown like stranded wrecks
+upon your hospitality, her welcome will not be wanting to our
+happiness.”
+
+“It will always give me pleasure,” said Virginia, “to welcome the guests
+of my parents, and to add, as far as I can, to their comfort, whoever
+they may be—more particularly when those guests are among my own
+special friends.”
+
+“Of which number I am proud to consider myself, though unworthy of such
+an honour,” said Bernard. “But excuse me for a few moments, ladies, I
+have somewhat to say to my sergeant before dinner. I will return
+anon—as soon as possible; but you know, Colonel, duty should ever be
+first served, and afterwards pleasure may be indulged. Duty is the prim
+old wife, who must be duly attended to, and then Pleasure, the fair
+young damsel, may claim her share of our devotion. Aye, Colonel?”
+
+“Nay, if you enter the marriage state with such ideas of its duties as
+that,” returned the Colonel, smiling, “I rather think you will have a
+troublesome career before you. But your maxim is true, though clothed in
+an allegory a little too licentious. So, away with you, my boy, and
+return as soon as you can, for I have much to ask you.”
+
+Released from the restraints imposed by the presence of the Colonel and
+the ladies, Bernard rubbed his hands and chuckled inwardly as he went in
+search of his sergeant.
+
+“I am pretty sure we are on the right scent, Holliday,” he said,
+addressing a tall, strapping old soldier of about six feet in height.
+“This prejudiced old steed seemed disposed to kick before he was
+spurred—and, indeed, if he knew nothing himself, there is a pretty
+little hind here, who I'll warrant is not so ignorant of the
+hiding-place of her young hart.”
+
+“But I tell you what, Cap'n, it's devilish hard to worm a secret out of
+these women kind. They'll tell any body else's secret, fast enough, but
+d—n me if it don't seem as how they only do that to give more room to
+keep their own.”
+
+“Well, we must try at any rate. It is not for you to oppose with your
+impertinent objections what I may choose order. I hope you are soldier
+enough to have learned that it is only your duty to obey.”
+
+“Oh! yes, Cap'n. I've learned that lesson long ago—and what's more, I
+learned it on horseback, but, faith, it was one of those wooden steeds
+that made me do all the travelling. Why, Lord bless me, to obey! It's
+one of my ten commandments. I've got it written in stripes that's
+legible on my shoulders now. 'Obey your officers in all things that your
+days may be long and your back unskinned.'”
+
+“Well, stop your intolerable nonsense,” said Bernard, “and hear what I
+would say. We stay here to-night. There is an Indian girl who lives
+here, a kind of upper servant. You must manage to see her and talk with
+her. But mind, nothing of our object, or your tongue shall be blistered
+for it. Tell her that I wish to see her, beneath the old oak tree to
+night, at ten o'clock. If she refuses, tell her to 'remember
+Berkenhead.' These words will act as a charm upon her. Remember—Hush,
+here comes the Colonel.”
+
+It will be remembered by the reader that the magic of these two words,
+which were to have such an influence upon the young Mamalis, was due to
+the shrewd suspicion of Alfred Bernard, insinuated at the time, that she
+was the assassin of the ill-fated Berkenhead. By holding this simple
+rod, _in terrorem_, over the poor girl, Bernard now saw that he might
+wield immense power over her, and if the secret of Hansford's
+hiding-place had been confided to her, he might easily extort it either
+by arousing her vengeance once more, or in default of that by a menace
+of exposure and punishment for the murder. But first he determined to
+see Virginia, and make his peace with her; and under the plausible
+guise of sympathy in her distress and pity for Hansford, to excite in
+her an interest in his behalf, even while he was plotting the ruin of
+her lover.
+
+With his usual pliancy of manner, and control over his feelings, he
+engaged in conversation with Colonel Temple, humouring the well-known
+prejudices of the old gentleman, and by a little dexterous flattery
+winning over the unsuspicious old lady to his favor. Even Virginia,
+though her heart misgave her from the first that the arrival of Bernard
+boded no good to her lover, was deceived by his plausible manners and
+attracted by his brilliant conversation. So the tempter, with the
+graceful crest, and beautiful colours of the subtle serpent beguiled Eve
+far more effectually, than if in his own shape he had attempted to
+convince her by the most specious sophisms.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+    “Was ever woman in this humour wooed?”
+                                    _Richard III._
+
+
+Dinner being over, the gentlemen remained according to the good old
+custom, to converse over their wine, while Virginia retired to the quiet
+little parlour, and with some favourite old author tried to beguile her
+thoughts from the bitter fears which she felt for the safety of
+Hansford. But it was all in vain. Her eyes often wandered from her book,
+and fixed upon the blazing, hickory fire, she was lost in a painful
+reverie. As she weighed in her mind the many chances in favour of, and
+against his escape, she turned in her trouble to Him, who alone could
+rescue her, and with the tears streaming down her pale cheeks, she
+murmured in bitter accents, “Oh, Lord! in Thee have I trusted, let me
+never be confounded.” Even while she spoke, she was surprised to hear
+immediately behind her, the well-known voice of Alfred Bernard, for so
+entirely lost had she been in meditation that she had not heard his step
+as he entered the room.
+
+“Miss Temple, and in tears!” he said, with well assumed surprise. “What
+can have moved you thus, Virginia?”
+
+“Alas! Mr. Bernard, you who have known my history and my troubles for
+the last few bitter months, cannot be ignorant that I have much cause
+for sadness. But,” she added, with a faint attempt to smile, “had I
+known of your presence, I would not have sought to entertain you with my
+sorrows.”
+
+“The troubles that you speak of are passed, Miss Temple,” said Bernard,
+affecting to misunderstand her, “and as the Colony begins to smile again
+in the beams of returning peace, you, fair Virginia, should also smile
+in sympathy with your namesake.”
+
+“Mr. Bernard, you must jest. You at least should have known, ere this,
+that my individual sorrows are not so dependent upon the political
+condition of the Colony. You at least should have known, sir, that the
+very peace you boast of may be the knell of hopes more dear to a woman's
+heart than even the glory and welfare of her country.”
+
+“Miss Temple,” returned Bernard, with a grave voice, “since you are
+determined to treat seriously what I have said, I will change my tone.
+Though you choose to doubt my sincerity, I must express the deep
+sympathy which I feel in your sorrows, even though I know that these
+sorrows are induced by your apprehensions for the fate of a rival.”
+
+“And that sympathy, sir, is illustrated by your present actions,” said
+Virginia, bitterly. “You would be at the same time the Judean robber
+and the good Samaritan, and while inflicting a deadly wound upon your
+victim, and stripping him of cherished hopes, you would administer the
+oil and wine of your mocking sympathy.”
+
+“I might choose to misunderstand your unkind allusions, Miss Temple,”
+replied Bernard, “but there is no need of concealment between us. You
+have rightly judged the object of my mission, but in this I act as the
+officer of government, not as the ungenerous rival of Major Hansford.”
+
+“So does the public executioner,” replied Virginia, “but I am not aware
+that in its civil and military departments as well as in the navy, our
+government impresses men into her service against their will.”
+
+“You seem determined to misunderstand me, Virginia,” said Alfred, with
+some warmth; “but you shall learn that I am not capable of the want of
+generosity which you attribute to me. Know then, that it was from a
+desire to serve you personally through your friend, that I urged the
+governor to let me come in pursuit of Major Hansford. Suppose, instead,
+he should fall in the hands of Beverley. Cruel and relentless as that
+officer has already shown himself to be, his prisoner would suffer every
+indignity and persecution, even before he was delivered to the tender
+mercies of Sir William Berkeley—while in me, as his captor, you may
+rest assured that for your sake, he would meet with kindness and
+indulgence, and even my warm mediation with the governor in his behalf.”
+
+“Oh, then,” cried Virginia, trusting words so softly and plausibly
+spoken, “if you are indeed impelled by a motive so generous and
+disinterested, it is still in your power to save him. Your influence
+with the Governor is known, and one word from your lips might control
+the fate of a brave man, and restore happiness and peace to a
+broken-hearted girl. Oh! would not this amply compensate even for the
+neglect of duty? Would it not be far nobler to secure the happiness of
+two grateful hearts, than to shed the blood of a brave and generous man,
+and to wade through that red stream to success and fame? Believe me, Mr.
+Bernard, when you come to die, the recollection of such an act will be
+sweeter to your soul than all the honour and glory which an admiring
+posterity could heap above your cold, insensate ashes. If I am any thing
+to you; if my happiness would be an object of interest to your heart;
+and if my love, my life-long love, would be worthy of your acceptance,
+they are yours. Forgive the boldness, the freedom with which I have
+spoken. It may be unbecoming in a young girl, but let it be another
+proof of the depth, the sincerity of my feelings, when I can forget a
+maiden's delicacy in the earnestness of my plea.”
+
+It was impossible not to be moved with the earnest and touching manner
+of the weeping girl, as with clasped hands and streaming eyes, she
+almost knelt to Bernard in the fervent earnestness of her feelings.
+Machiavellian as he was, and accustomed to disguise his heart, the young
+man was for a moment almost dissuaded from his design. Taking Virginia
+gently by the hand, he begged her to be calm. But the feeling of
+generosity which for a moment gleamed on his heart, like a brief sunbeam
+on a stormy day, gave way to the wonted selfishness with which that
+heart was clouded.
+
+“And can you still cling with such tenacity to a man who has proven
+himself so unworthy of you,” he said; “to one who has long since
+sacrificed you to his own fanatical purposes. Even should he escape the
+fate which awaits him, he can never be yours. Your own independence of
+feeling, your father's prejudices, every thing conspires to prevent a
+union so unnatural. Hansford may live, but he can never live to be your
+husband.”
+
+“Who empowered you to prohibit thus boldly the bans between us, and to
+dissolve our plighted troth?” said Virginia, with indignation.
+
+“You again mistake me,” replied Bernard. “God forbid that I should thus
+intrude upon what surely concerns me not. I only expressed, my dear
+friend, what you know full well, that whatever be the fate of Major
+Hansford, you can never marry him. Why, then, this strange interest in
+his fate?”
+
+“And can you think thus of woman's love? Can you suppose that her heart
+is so selfish that, because her own cherished hopes are blasted, she can
+so soon forget and coldly desert one who has first awakened those sweet
+hopes, and who is now in peril? Believe me, Mr. Bernard, dear as I hold
+that object to my soul, sad and weary as life would be without one who
+had made it so happy, I would freely, aye, almost cheerfully yield his
+love, and be banished for ever from his presence, if I could but save
+his life.”
+
+“You are a noble girl,” said Alfred, with admiration; “and teach me a
+lesson that too few have learned, that love is never selfish. But, yet,
+I cannot relinquish the sweet reward which you have promised for my
+efforts in behalf of Hansford. Then tell me once more, dear girl, if I
+arrest the hand of justice which now threatens his life; if he be once
+more restored to liberty and security, would you reward his deliverer
+with your love?”
+
+“Oh, yes!” cried the trusting girl, mistaking his meaning; “and more, I
+would pledge his lasting gratitude and affection to his generous
+preserver.”
+
+“Nay,” said Bernard, rather coldly, “that would not add much inducement
+to me. But you, Virginia,” he added, passionately, “would you be
+mine—would the bright dream of my life be indeed realized, and might I
+enshrine you in my faithful heart, as a sacred idol, to whom in hourly
+adoration I might bow?”
+
+“How mean you, sir,” exclaimed Virginia, with surprise. “I fear you have
+misunderstood my words. My love, my gratitude, my friendship, I
+promised, but not my heart.”
+
+“Then, indeed, am I strangely at fault,” said Bernard, with a sneering
+laugh. “The love you would bestow, would be such as you would feel
+towards the humblest boor, who had done you a service; and your
+gratitude but the natural return which any human being would make to the
+dog who saves his life. Nay, mistress mine, not so platonic, if you
+please. Think you that, for so cold a feeling as friendship and
+gratitude, I would rescue this skulking hound from the lash of his
+master, which he so richly deserves, or from the juster doom of the
+craven cur, the rope and gallows. No, Virginia Temple, there is no
+longer any need of mincing matters between us. It is a simple question
+of bargain and sale. You have said that you would renounce the love of
+Hansford to save his life. Very well, one step more and all is
+accomplished. The boon I ask, as the reward of my services, is your
+heart, or at least your hand. Yield but this, and I will arrest the
+malice of that doting old knight, who, with his fantastic tricks, has
+made the angels laugh instead of weep. Deny me, and by my troth, Thomas
+Hansford meets a traitor's doom.”
+
+So complete was the revulsion of feeling from the almost certainty of
+success, to the despair and indignation induced by so base a
+proposition, that it was some moments before Virginia Temple could
+speak. Bernard mistaking the cause of her silence, deemed that she was
+hesitating as to her course, and pursuing his supposed advantage, he
+added, tenderly,—“Cheer, up Virginia; cheer up, my bride. I read in
+those silent tears your answer. I know the struggle is hard, and I love
+you the more that it is so. It is an earnest of your future constancy.
+In a short time the trial will be over, and we will learn to forget our
+sorrows in our love. He who is so unworthy of you will have sought in
+some distant land solace for your loss, which will be easily attained by
+his pliant nature. A traitor to his country, will not long mourn the
+loss of his bride.”
+
+“'Tis thou who art the traitor, dissembling hypocrite,” cried Virginia,
+vehemently. “Think you that my silence arose from a moment's
+consideration of your base proposition? I was stunned at beholding such
+a monster in the human form. But I defy you yet. The governor shall
+learn how the fawning favourite of his palace, tears the hand that feeds
+him—and those who can protect me from your power, shall chastise your
+insolence. Instead of the love and gratitude I promised, there, take my
+lasting hate and scorn.”
+
+And the young girl proudly rising erect as she spoke, her eyes flashing,
+but tearless, her bosom heaving with indignation, her nostrils dilated,
+and her hand extended in bitter contempt towards the astonished Bernard,
+shouted, “Father, father!” until the hall rung with the sound.
+
+Happily for Alfred Bernard, Colonel Temple and his wife had left the
+house for a few moments, on a visit to old Giles' cabin, the old man
+having been laid up with a violent attack of the rheumatics. The wily
+intriguer was for once caught in his own springe. He had overacted his
+part, and had grossly mistaken the character of the brave young girl,
+whom he had so basely insulted. He felt that if he lost a moment, the
+house would be alarmed, and his miserable hypocrisy exposed. Rushing to
+Virginia, he whispered, in an agitated voice, which he failed to control
+with his usual self-command,
+
+“For God's sake, be silent. I acknowledge I have done wrong; but I will
+explain. Remember Hansford's life is in your hands. Come, now, dear
+Virginia, sit you down, I will save him.”
+
+The proud expression of scorn died away from the curled lips of the
+girl, and interest in her lover's fate again took entire possession of
+her heart. She paused and listened. The wily Jesuit had again conquered,
+and He who rules the universe with such mysterious justice, had
+permitted evil once more to triumph over innocence.
+
+“Yes,” repeated Bernard, regaining his composure with his success; “I
+will save him. I mistook your character, Miss Temple. I had thought you
+the simple-hearted girl, who for the sake of her lover's life would sell
+her heart to his preserver. I now recognize in you the high-spirited
+woman, who, conscious of right, would meet her own despair in its
+defence. Alas! in thus losing you for ever, I have just found you
+possessed of qualities which make you doubly worthy to be won. But I
+resign you to him whom you have chosen, and in my admiration for the
+woman, I have almost lost my hatred for the man. For your sake, Miss
+Temple, Major Hansford shall not want my warm interposition with the
+Governor in his behalf. Let my reward be your esteem or your contempt,
+it is still my duty thus to atone for the wound which I have
+unfortunately inflicted on your feelings. You will excuse and respect my
+wish to end this painful interview.”
+
+And so he left the room, and Virginia once more alone, gave vent to her
+emotions so long suppressed, in a flood of bitter tears.
+
+“Well, Holliday,” said Bernard, as he met that worthy in the hall, “I
+hope you have been more fortunate with the red heifer than I with the
+white hind—what says Mamalis?”
+
+“The fact is, Cap'n, that same heifer is about as troublesome a three
+year old as I ever had the breaking on. She seemed bent on hooking me.”
+
+“Did you not make use of the talisman I told you of?” asked Bernard.
+
+“Well, I don't know what you call a tell-us-man,” said Holliday, “but I
+told her that you said she must remember Backinhead, and I'll warrant
+it was tell-us-woman soon enough. Bless me, if she didn't most turn
+white, for all her red skin, and she got the trimbles so that I began to
+think she was going to have the high-strikes—and so says she at last;
+says she, in kind of choking voice like, 'Well, tell him I will meet him
+under the oak tree, as he wishes.'”
+
+“Very well,” said Bernard, “we will succeed yet, and then your hundred
+pounds are made—my share is yours already if you be but faithful to
+me—I am convinced he has been here,” he continued, musing, and half
+unconscious of Holliday's presence. “The hopeful interest that Virginia
+feels, her knowledge of the fact that he still lives and is at large,
+and the apprehensions which mingle with her hopes, all convince me that
+I'm on the right track. Well, I'll spoil a pretty love affair yet,
+before it approaches its consummation. Fine girl, too, and a pity to
+victimize her. Bless me, how majestic she looked; with what a queen-like
+scorn she treated me, the cold, insensate intriguer, as they call me. I
+begin to love her almost as much as I love her land—but, beware, Alfred
+Bernard, love might betray you. My game is a bold and desperate one, but
+the stake for which I play repays the risk. By God, I'll have her yet;
+she shall learn to bow her proud head, and to love me too—and then the
+fair fields of Windsor Hall will not be less fertile for the price which
+I pay for them in a rival's blood—and such a rival. He scorned and
+defied me when the overtures of peace were extended to him; let him look
+to it, that in rejecting the olive, he has not planted the cypress in
+its stead. Thus revenge is united with policy in the attainment of my
+object, and—What are you staring at, you gaping idiot?” he cried,
+seeing the big, pewter coloured eyes of Holliday fixed upon him in mute
+astonishment.
+
+“Why, Cap'n, damme if I don't believe you are talking in your sleep with
+your eyes open.”
+
+“And what did you hear me say, knave?”
+
+“Oh, nothing that will ever go the farther for my hearing it. It's all
+one to me whether you're working for your country or yourself in this
+matter, so long as my pretty pounds are none the less heavy and safe.”
+
+“I'm working for both, you fool,” returned Bernard. “Did you ever know a
+general or a patriot who did not seek to serve himself as well as his
+country?”
+
+“Well, no,” retorted the soldier, “for what the world calls honour, and
+what the rough soldier calls money, is at last only different kinds of
+coin of the same metal.”
+
+“Well, hush your impudence,” said Bernard, “and mind, not a word of what
+you have heard, or you shall feel my power as well as others. In the
+meantime, here is a golden key to lock your lips,” and he handed the
+fellow a sovereign, which he greedily accepted.
+
+“Thank you, Cap'n,” said Holliday, touching his hat and pocketing the
+money; “you need not be afraid of me, for I've seen tricks in my time
+worth two of that. And for the matter of taking this yellow boy, which
+might look to some like hush-money, the only difference between the
+patriot and me is, that he gets paid for opening his mouth, and I for
+keeping mine shut.”
+
+“You are a saucy knave,” said Bernard, reassured by the fellow's manner;
+“and I'll warrant you never served under old Noll's Puritan standard.
+But away with you, and remember to be in place at ten o'clock to-night,
+and come to me at this signal,” and he gave a shrill whistle, which
+Holliday promised to understand and obey.
+
+And so they separated, Bernard to while away the tedious hours, by
+conversing with the old Colonel, and by endeavouring to reinstate
+himself in the good opinion of Virginia, while Holliday repaired to the
+kitchen, where, in company with his comrades and the white servants of
+the hall, he emptied about a half gallon of brown October ale.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+        “He sat her on a milk-white steed,
+          And himself upon a grey;
+        He never turned his face again,
+          But he bore her quite away.”
+                  _The Knight of the Burning Pestle._
+
+    “Oh, woe is me for Gerrard! I have brought
+    Confusion on the noblest gentleman
+    That ever truly loved.”
+                                _The Triumph of Love._
+
+
+The night, though only starry, was scarce less lovely for the absence of
+the moon. So bright indeed was the milky way, the white girdle, with
+which the night adorns her azure robe, that you might almost imagine the
+moon had not disappeared, but only melted and diffused itself in the
+milder radiance of that fair circlet.
+
+As was always the custom in the country, the family had retired at an
+early hour, and Bernard quietly left the house to fulfil his engagement
+with Mamalis. They stood, he and the Indian girl, beneath the shade of
+the old oak, so often mentioned in the preceding pages. With his
+handsome Spanish cloak of dark velvet plush, thrown gracefully over his
+shoulders, his hat looped up and fastened in front with a gold button,
+after the manner of the times, Alfred Bernard stood with folded arms,
+irresolute as to how he should commence a conversation so important, and
+requiring such delicate address. Mamalis stood before him, with that air
+of nameless but matchless grace so peculiar to those, who unconstrained
+by the arts and affectations of society, assume the attitude of ease and
+beauty which nature can alone suggest. She watched him with a look of
+eagerness, anxious on her part for the silence to be broken, that she
+might learn the meaning and the object of this strange interview.
+
+Alfred Bernard was too skillful an intriguer to broach abruptly the
+subject which, most absorbed his thoughts, and which had made him seek
+this interview, and when at last he spoke, Mamalis was at a loss to
+guess what there was in the commonplaces which he used, that could be of
+interest to him. But the wily hypocrite led her on step by step, until
+gradually and almost unconsciously to herself he had fully developed his
+wishes.
+
+“You live here altogether, now, do you not?” he asked, kindly.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Are they kind to you?”
+
+“Oh yes, they are kind to all.”
+
+“And you are happy?”
+
+“Yes, as happy as those can be who are left alone on earth.”
+
+“What! are there none of your family now living?”
+
+“No, no!” she replied, bitterly; “the blood of Powhatan now runs in this
+narrow channel,” and she held out her graceful arms, as she spoke, with
+an expressive gesture.
+
+“Alas! I pity you,” said Bernard, sighing. “We are alike in this—for my
+blood is reduced to as narrow a channel as your own. But your family was
+very numerous?”
+
+“Yes, numerous as those stars—and bright and beautiful as they.”
+
+“Judging from the only Pleiad that remains,” thought Bernard, “you may
+well say so—and can you,” he added, aloud, “forgive those who have thus
+injured you?”
+
+“Forgive, oh yes, or how shall I be forgiven! Look at those stars! They
+shine the glory of the night. They vanish before the sun of the morning.
+So faded my people before the arms of the white man—and yet I can
+freely forgive them all!”
+
+“What, even those who have quenched those stars!” said Bernard, with a
+sinister meaning in his tone.
+
+“You mistake,” replied Mamalis, touchingly. “They are not quenched. The
+stars we see to-night, though unseen on the morrow, are still in
+heaven.”
+
+“Nay, Mamalis,” said Bernard, “the creed of your fathers taught not
+thus. I thought the Indian maxim was that blood alone could wipe out the
+stain of blood.”
+
+“I love the Christian lesson better,” said Mamalis, softly. “And you,
+Mr. Bernard, should not try to shake my new born faith. 'Love your
+enemies—bless them that curse you—pray for them that despitefully use
+you and persecute you—that you may be the children of your Father which
+is in heaven.' The orphan girl on earth would love to be the child of
+her father in heaven.”
+
+The sweet simplicity with which the poor girl thus referred to the
+precepts and promises of her new religion, derived more touching beauty
+from the broken English with which she expressed them. An attempt to
+describe her manner and accent would be futile, and would detract from
+the simple dignity and sweetness with which she uttered the words. We
+leave the reader from his own imagination to fill up the picture which
+we can only draw in outline. Bernard saw and felt the power of religion
+in the heart of this poor savage, and he hesitated what course he should
+pursue. He knew that her strongest feeling in life had been her
+affection for her brother. That had been the chord which earliest
+vibrated in her heart, and which as her heart expanded only increased in
+tension that added greater sweetness to its tone. It was on this broken
+string, so rudely snapped asunder, that he resolved to play—hoping thus
+to strike some harsh and discordant notes in her gentle heart.
+
+“You had a brother, Mamalis,” he said, abruptly; “the voice of your
+brother's blood calls to you from the ground.”
+
+“My brother!” shrieked the girl, startled by the suddenness of the
+allusion.
+
+“Aye, your murdered brother,” said Bernard, marking with pleasure the
+effect he had produced, “and it is in your power to avenge his death.
+Dare you do it?”
+
+“Oh, my brother, my poor lost brother,” she sobbed, the stoical
+indifference of the savage, pressed out by the crushed heart of the
+sister, “if by this hand thy death could be avenged.”
+
+“By your hand he can be avenged,” said Bernard, seeing her pause. “It
+has not yet been done. That stupid knave, in a moment of vanity, claimed
+for himself the praise of having murdered a chieftain, but the brave
+Manteo fell by more noble hands than his.”
+
+“In God's name, who do you mean?” asked Mamalis.
+
+“I can only tell you that it is now in your power to surrender his
+murderer to justice, and to his deserved fate.”
+
+Mamalis was silent. She guessed that it was Hansford to whom Bernard had
+thus vaguely alluded. The struggle seemed to be a desperate one. There
+in the clear starlight, with none to help, save Him, in whom she had
+learned to trust, she wrestled with the tempter. But that dark scene of
+her life, which still threw its shadow on her redeemed heart, again rose
+up before her memory. The lesson was a blessed one. How often thus does
+the recollection of a former sin guard the soul from error in the
+future. Surely, in this, too, God has made the wrath of man to praise
+him. With the aid thus given from on high, the trusting soul of Mamalis
+triumphed over temptation.
+
+“I know not why you tempt me thus, Mr. Bernard,” she said, more calmly,
+“nor why you have brought me here to-night. But this I know, that I
+have learned that vengeance belongs to God. It were a crime for mortal
+man, frail at best, to usurp the right of God. My brother is already
+fearfully avenged.”
+
+Twice beaten in his attempt to besiege the strong heart of the poor
+Indian, by stratagem, the wily Bernard determined to pursue a more
+determined course, and to take the resisting citadel by a coup d'etat.
+He argued, and argued rightly, that a sudden charge would surprise her
+into betraying a knowledge of Hansford's movements. No sooner,
+therefore, had the last words fallen from her lips, than he seized her
+roughly by the arm, and exclaimed,
+
+“So you, then, with all your religious cant, are the murderess of Thomas
+Hansford!”
+
+“The murderess! Of Hansford! Is he then dead,” cried the girl,
+bewildered by the sudden charge, “How did they find him?”
+
+“Find him!” cried Bernard, triumphantly, “It is easy finding what we
+hide ourselves. We have proven that you alone are aware of his hiding
+place, and you alone, therefore, are responsible for his safety. It was
+for this confession that I brought you here to-night.”
+
+“So help me Heaven,” said the trembling girl, terrified by the web thus
+woven around her, “If he be dead, I am innocent of his death.”
+
+“The assassin of Berkenhead may well be the murderess of Hansford,” said
+Bernard. “It is easier to deny than to prove. Come, my mistress, tell me
+when you saw him.”
+
+“Oh, but this morning, safe and well,” said Mamalis. “Indeed, my hand is
+guiltless of his blood.”
+
+“Prove it, then, if you can,” returned Bernard. “You must know our
+English law presumes him guilty, who is last with the murdered person,
+unless he can prove his innocence. Show me Hansford alive, and you are
+safe. If I do not see him by sunrise, you go with me to answer for his
+death, and to learn that your accursed race is not the only people who
+demand blood for blood.”
+
+Overawed by his threats, and his stern manner, so different from the
+mild and respectful tone in which he had hitherto addressed her, Mamalis
+sank upon the ground in an agony of alarm. Bernard disregarded her meek
+and silent appeal for mercy, and sternly menaced her when she attempted
+to scream for assistance.
+
+“Hush your savage shrieking, you bitch, or you'll wake the house; and
+then, by God, I'll choke you before your time. I tell you, if the man is
+alive, you need fear no danger; and if he be dead, you have only saved
+the sheriff a piece of dirty work, or may be have given him another
+victim.”
+
+“For God's sake, do me no harm,” cried Mamalis, imploringly. “I am
+innocent—indeed I am. Think you that I would hurt a hair of the head of
+that man whom Virginia Temple loves?”
+
+This last remark was by no means calculated to make her peace with
+Bernard; but his only reply was by the shrill whistle which had been
+agreed upon as a signal between Holliday and himself. True to his
+promise, and obedient to the command of his superior, the soldier made
+his appearance on the scene of action with a promptitude that could only
+be explained by the fact that he had concealed himself behind a corner
+of the house, and had heard every word of the conversation. Too much
+excited to be suspicious, Bernard did not remark on his punctuality, but
+said, in a low voice:
+
+“Go wake Thompson, saddle the horses, and let's be off. We have work
+before us. Go!” And Holliday, with habitual obedience, retired to
+execute the order.
+
+“And now,” said Bernard, in an encouraging tone, to Mamalis, “you must
+go with me. But you have nothing to fear, if Hansford be alive. If,
+however, my suspicions be true, and he has been murdered by your hand, I
+will still be your friend, if you be but faithful.”
+
+The horses were quickly brought, and Bernard, half leading, half
+carrying the poor, weeping, trembling maiden, mounted his own powerful
+charger, and placed her behind him. The order of march was soon given,
+and the heavy sound of the horses' feet was heard upon the hard, crisp,
+frozen ground. Mamalis, seeing her fate inevitable, whatever it might
+be, awaited it patiently and without a murmur. Never suspecting the true
+motive of Bernard, and fully believing that he was _bona fide_ engaged
+in searching for the perpetrators of some foul deed, she readily
+consented, for her own defence, to conduct the party to the hiding place
+of the hapless Hansford. Surprised and shocked beyond measure at the
+intelligence of his fate, she almost forgot her own situation in her
+concern for him, and was happy in aiding to bring to justice those who,
+as she feared, had murdered him. She was surprised, indeed, that she had
+heard nothing of the circumstance from Virginia, as she would surely
+have done, had Bernard mentioned it to the family. But in her ignorance
+of the rules of civilized life, she attributed this to the forms of
+procedure, to the necessity for secrecy—to anything rather than the
+true cause. Nor could she help hoping that there might be still some
+mistake, and that Hansford would be found alive and well, thus
+establishing her own innocence, and ending the pursuit.
+
+Arrived nearly at the wigwam, she mentioned the fact to Bernard, who in
+a low voice commanded a halt, and dismounting with his men, he directed
+Mamalis to guide them the remaining distance on foot. Leaving Thompson
+in charge of the horses, until he might be called to their assistance,
+Bernard and Holliday silently followed the unsuspecting Indian girl
+along the narrow path. A short distance ahead, they could discern the
+faint smoke, as it curled through the opening at the top of the wigwam
+and floated towards the sky. This indication rendered it probable that
+the object of their search was still watching, and thus warned them to
+greater caution in their approach. Bernard's heart beat thick and loud,
+and his cheek blanched with excitement, as he thus drew near the lurking
+place of his enemy. He shook Holliday by the arm with impatient anger,
+as the heavy-footed soldier jarred the silence by the crackling of
+fallen leaves and branches. And now they are almost there, and Mamalis,
+whose excitement was also intense, still in advance, saw through a
+crevice in the door the kneeling form of the noble insurgent, as he
+bowed himself by that lonely fire, and committed his weary soul to God.
+
+“He is here! he lives!” she shouted. “I knew that he was safe!” and the
+startled forest rang with the echoes of her voice.
+
+“The murder is out,” cried Bernard, as followed by Holliday, he rushed
+forward to the door, which had been thrown open by their guide; but ere
+he gained his entrance, the sharp report of a pistol was heard, and the
+beautiful, the trusting Mamalis fell prostrate on the floor, a bleeding
+martyr to her constancy and faith. Hansford, roused by the sudden sound
+of her voice, had seized the pistol which, sleeping and waking, was by
+his side, and hearing the voice of Bernard, he had fired. Had the ball
+taken effect upon either of the men, he might yet have been saved, for
+in an encounter with a single man he would have proved a formidable
+adversary. But inscrutable are His ways, whose thoughts are not as our
+thoughts, and all that the puzzled soul can do, is humbly to rely on the
+hope that
+
+    “God is his own interpreter,
+    And he will make it plain.”
+
+And she, the last of her dispersed and ruined lineage, is gone. In the
+lone forest, where the wintry blast swept unobstructed, the giant trees
+moaned sadly and fitfully over their bleeding child; and the bright
+stars, that saw the heavy deed, wept from their place in heaven, and
+bathed her lovely form in night's pure dews. She did not long remain
+unburied in that forest, for when Virginia heard the story of her faith
+and loyalty from the rude lips of Holliday, the pure form of the Indian
+girl, still fresh and free from the polluting touch of the destroyer,
+was borne to her own home, and followed with due rites and fervent grief
+to the quiet tomb. In after days, when her sad heart loved to dwell upon
+these early scenes, Virginia placed above the sacred ashes of her friend
+a simple marble tablet, long since itself a ruin; and there, engraven
+with the record of her faith, her loyalty and her love, was the sweet
+assurance, that in her almost latest words, the trusting Indian girl had
+indeed become one of “the children of her Father which is in Heaven.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+    “Let some of the guard be ready there.
+                                    For me?
+    Must I go like a traitor thither?”
+                                      _Henry VIII._
+
+
+The reader need not be told that Hansford, surprised and unarmed, for
+his remaining pistol was not at hand, and his sword had been laid aside
+for the night, was no match for the two powerful men who now rushed upon
+him. To pinion his arms closely behind him, was the work of a moment,
+and further resistance was impossible. Seeing that all hope of
+successful defence was gone, Hansford maintained in his bearing the
+resolute fortitude and firmness which can support a brave man in
+misfortune, when active courage is no longer of avail.
+
+“I suppose, I need not ask Mr. Bernard,” he said, “by what authority he
+acts—and yet I would be glad to learn for what offence I am arrested.”
+
+“The memory of your former acts should teach you,” returned Bernard,
+coarsely, “that your offence is reckoned among the best commentators of
+the law as high treason.”
+
+“A grievous crime, truly,” replied Hansford, “but one of which I am
+happily innocent, unless, indeed, a skirmish with the hostile Indians
+should be reckoned as such, or Sir William Berkeley should be
+presumptuous enough to claim to be a king; in which latter case, he
+himself would be the traitor.”
+
+“He is at least the deputy of the king,” said Bernard, haughtily, “and
+in his person the majesty of the king has been assailed.”
+
+“Unfortunately, for your reasoning,” replied Hansford, “the term for
+which Berkeley was appointed governor has expired some years since.”
+
+“That miserable subterfuge will scarcely avail, since you tacitly
+acknowledged his authority by acting under his commission. But I have no
+time to be discussing with you on the nature of your offence, of which,
+at least, I am not the judge. I will only add, that conscious innocence
+is not found skulking in dark forests, and obscure hiding places. Call
+Thompson, with the horses, Holliday. It is time we were off.”
+
+“One word, before we leave,” said Hansford, sadly. “My pistol ball took
+effect, I know; who is its victim?”
+
+“A poor Indian girl, who conducted us to your fastness,” said Bernard.
+“I had forgotten her myself, till now. Look, Holliday, does she still
+live?”
+
+“Dead as a herring, your honour,” said the man, as he bent over the
+body, with deep feeling, for, though accustomed to the flow of blood,
+he had taken a lively interest in the poor girl, from what he had seen
+and overheard. “And by God, Cap'n, begging your honour's pardon, a brave
+girl she was, too, although she was an Injin.”
+
+“Poor Mamalis,” said Hansford, tenderly, “you have met with an early and
+a sad fate. I little thought that she would betray me.”
+
+“Nay, wrong not the dead,” interposed Bernard, “I assure you, she knew
+nothing of the object of our coming. But all's fair in war, Major, and a
+little intrigue was necessary to track you to this obscure hold.”
+
+“Well, farewell, poor luckless maiden! And so I've killed my friend,”
+said Hansford, sorrowfully. “Alas! Mr. Bernard, my arm has been felt in
+battle, and has sent death to many a foe. But, God forgive me! this is
+the first blood I have ever spilt, except in battle, and this, too,
+flows from a woman.”
+
+“Think not of it thus,” said Bernard, whose hard nature could not but be
+touched by this display of unselfish grief on the part of his prisoner.
+“It was but an accident, and should not rest heavily on your soul. Stay,
+Holliday, I would not have the poor girl rot here, either. Suppose you
+take the body to Windsor Hall, where it will be treated with due
+respect. Thompson and myself can, meantime, attend the prisoner.”
+
+“Look ye, Cap'n,” said Holliday, with the superstition peculiar to
+vulgar minds; “'taint that I'm afeard exactly neither, but its a mighty
+dissolute feeling being alone in a dark night with a corp. I'd rather
+kill fifty men, than to stay by myself five minutes, with the smallest
+of the fifty after he was killed.”
+
+“Well, then, you foolish fellow, go to the hall to-night and inform them
+of her death, and excuse me to Colonel Temple for my abrupt departure,
+and meet me with the rest of the men at Tindal's Point as soon as
+possible. I will bide there for you. But first help me to take the poor
+girl's body into the wigwam. I suppose she will rest quietly enough here
+till morning. Major Hansford,” he added, courteously, “our horses are
+ready I perceive. You can take Holliday's there. He can provide himself
+with another at the hall. Shall we ride, sir?”
+
+With a sad heart the captive-bound Hansford mounted with difficulty the
+horse prepared for him, which was led by Thompson, while Bernard rode by
+his side, and with more of courtesy than could be expected from him,
+endeavoured to beguile the way with conversation with his prisoner.
+
+Meanwhile Holliday, whistling for company, and ever and anon looking
+behind him warily, to see whether the disembodied Mamalis was following
+him, bent his steps towards the hall, to communicate to the unsuspecting
+Virginia the heavy tidings of her lover's capture. The rough soldier,
+although his nature had been blunted by long service and familiarity
+with scenes of distress, was not without some feelings, and showed even
+in his rude, uncultivated manners, the sympathy and tenderness which was
+wanting in the more polished but harder heart of Alfred Bernard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+                            “Go to Lord Angelo,
+    And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,
+    Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,
+    All their petitions are as freely theirs,
+    As they themselves would owe them.”
+                                _Measure for Measure._
+
+
+It were impossible to describe the silent agony of Virginia Temple, when
+she learned from Holliday, on the following morning, the capture of
+Hansford. She felt that it was the wreck of all her hopes, and that the
+last thread which still hung between her and despair was snapped. But
+even in that dark hour, her strength of mind, and her firmness of
+purpose forsook her not. There was still a duty for her to perform in
+endeavouring to procure his pardon, and she entertained, with the
+trusting confidence of her young heart, the strong hope that Berkeley
+would grant her request. On this sacred errand she determined to go at
+once. Although she did not dream of the full extent of Bernard's
+hypocrisy, yet all his efforts had been unavailing to restore full
+confidence in his sincerity. She dared not trust a matter of such
+importance to another, especially when she had reason to suspect that
+that other was far from being friendly in his feelings towards her
+lover. Once determined on her course, she lost no time in informing her
+parents of her resolution; and so, when they were all seated around the
+breakfast-table, she said quietly, but firmly—
+
+“I am going to Accomac to-day, father.”
+
+“To where!” cried her mother; “why surely, child, you must be out of
+your senses.”
+
+“No, dearest mother, my calmness is not an indication of insanity. If I
+should neglect this sacred duty, you might then indeed tremble for my
+reason.”
+
+“What in the world are you thinking of, Jeanie!” said her father, in his
+turn surprised at this sudden resolution; “what duties can call you to
+Accomac?”
+
+“I go to save life,” replied Virginia. “Can you wonder, my father, that
+when I see all that I hold dearest in life just trembling on the verge
+of destruction, I should desire to do all in my power to save it.”
+
+“You are right, my child,” replied her father, tenderly; “if it were
+possible for you to accomplish any good. But what can you do to rescue
+Hansford from the hand of justice?”
+
+“Of justice!” said Virginia, “and can you unite with those, my dear
+father, who profane the name of justice by applying it to the relentless
+cruelty with which blind vengeance pursues its victims?”
+
+“Ah, Jeanie!” said her father, smiling, as he pressed her hand tenderly;
+“you should remember, in language of the quaint old satirist, Butler,
+
+    'No thief e'er felt the halter draw,
+    With good opinion of the law;'
+
+and although I would not apply the bitter couplet to my little Jeanie in
+its full force, yet she must own that her interest in its present
+application, prevents her from being a very competent judge of its
+propriety and justice.”
+
+“But surely, dear father, you cannot think that these violent measures
+against the unhappy parties to the late rebellion, are either just or
+politic?”
+
+“I grant, my child, that to my own mind, a far more humane policy might
+be pursued consistent with the ends of justice. To inspire terror in a
+subject is not the surest means to secure his allegiance or his love for
+government. I am sure, if you were afraid of your old father, and
+always in dread of his wrath and authority, you would not love him as
+you do, Jeanie—and government is at last nothing but a larger family.”
+
+“Well, then,” returned the artless girl, “why should I not go to Sir
+William Berkeley, and represent to him the harshness of his course, and
+the propriety of tempering his revenge with mercy?”
+
+“First, my daughter, because I have only expressed my private opinion,
+which would have but little weight with the Governor, or any one else
+but you and mother, there. Remember that we are neither the framers nor
+the administrators of the law. And then you would make but a poor
+mediator, my darling, if you were to attempt to dissuade the Governor
+from his policy, by charging him with cruelty and injustice. Think no
+more of this wild idea, my dear child. It can do no good, and reflects
+more credit on your warm, generous heart, than on your understanding or
+experience.”
+
+“Hinder me not, my father,” said Virginia, earnestly, her blue eyes
+filling with tears. “I can but fail, and if you would save me from the
+bitterness of self-reproach hereafter, let me go. Oh, think how it would
+add bitterness to the cup of grief, if, when closing the eyes of a dead
+friend, we should think that we had left some remedy untried which might
+have saved his life! If I fail, it will at least be some consolation,
+even in despair, that I did all that I could to avert his fate; and if I
+succeed—oh! how transporting the thought that the life of one I love
+had been spared through my interposition. Then hinder me not, father,
+mother—if you would not destroy your daughter's peace forever, oh, let
+me go!”
+
+The solemn earnestness with which the poor girl thus urged her parents
+to grant her request, deeply affected them both; and the old lady,
+forgetting in her love for her daughter the indelicacy and impropriety
+of her plan, volunteered her very efficient advocacy of Virginia's
+cause.
+
+“Indeed, Colonel Temple,” she said, “you should not oppose Virginia in
+this matter. You will have enough to reproach yourself for, if by your
+means you should prevent her from doing what she thinks best. And,
+indeed, I like to see a young girl show so much spirit and interest in
+her lover's fate. It is seldom you see such things now-a-days, though it
+used to be common enough in England. Now, just put it to yourself.”
+
+The Colonel accordingly did “put it to himself,” and, charmed with his
+daughter's affection and heroism, concluded himself to accompany her to
+Accomac, and exert his own influence with the Governor in procuring the
+pardon of the unhappy Hansford.
+
+“Now that's as it should be,” said the old lady, gratified at this
+renewed assurance of her ascendency over her husband. “And now,
+Virginia, cheer up. All will be right, my dear, for your father has
+great influence with the Governor—and, indeed, well he might have, for
+he has received kindness enough at our hands in times past. I should
+like to see him refuse your father a favour. And I will write a note to
+Lady Frances myself, for all the world knows that she is governor and
+all with her husband.”
+
+“Ladies generally are,” said the Colonel, with a smile, which however
+could not disguise the sincerity with which he uttered the sentiment.
+
+“Oh, no, not at all,” retorted the old lady, bridling up. “You are
+always throwing up your obedience to me, and yet, after all said and
+done, you have your own way pretty much, too. But you are not decent to
+go anywhere. Do, pray, Colonel Temple, pay more respect to society, and
+fix yourself up a little. Put on your blue coat and your black stock,
+and dress your hair, and shave, and look genteel for once in your life.”
+Then, seeing by the patient shrug of her good old husband that she had
+wounded his feelings, she patted him tenderly on the shoulder, and
+added, “You know I always love to see you nice and spruce, and when you
+do attend to your dress, and fix up, I know of none of them that are
+equal to you. Do you, Virginia?”
+
+Before the good Colonel had fully complied with all the toilet
+requisitions of his wife, the carriage was ready to take the travellers
+to Tindal's Point, where there was luckily a small sloop, just under
+weigh for Accomac. And Virginia, painfully alternating between hope and
+fear, but sustained by a consciousness of duty, was borne away across
+the broad Chesapeake, on her pious pilgrimage, to move by her tears and
+prayers the vindictive heart of the stern old Governor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV.
+
+     “Why, there's an end then! I have judged deliberately, and the
+     result is death.”                        _The Gamester._
+
+
+
+Situated, as nearly as might be, in the centre of each of the counties
+of Virginia, was a small settlement, which, although it aspired to the
+dignity of a town, could scarcely deserve the name. For the most part,
+these little country towns, as they were called, were composed of about
+four houses, to wit: The court house, dedicated to justice, where sat,
+monthly, the magistrates of the county, possessed of an unlimited
+jurisdiction in all cases cognizable in law or chancery, not touching
+life or murder, and having the care of orphans' persons and estates; the
+jail, wherein prisoners committed for any felony were confined, until
+they could be brought before the general court, which had the sole
+criminal jurisdiction in the colony; the tavern, a long, low wooden
+building, generally thronged with loafers and gossips, and reeking with
+the fumes of tobacco smoke, apple-brandy and rye-whiskey; and, finally,
+the store, which shared, with the tavern, the patronage of the loafers,
+and which could be easily recognized by the roughly painted board sign,
+containing a catalogue of the goods within, arranged in alphabetical
+order, without reference to any other classification. Thus the
+substantial farmer, in search of a pound of _candy_ for his little white
+headed barbarians, whom he had left at play, must needs pass his finger
+over “cards, chains, calico, cowhides, and candy;” or, if he had come to
+“town” to purchase a bushel of meal for family use, his eye was greeted
+with the list of M's, containing meal, mustard, mousetraps, and
+molasses.
+
+It was to the little court house town of the county of Accomac, that Sir
+William Berkeley had retired after the burning of Jamestown; and here he
+remained, since the suppression of the rebellion, like a cruel old
+spider, in the centre of his web, awaiting, with grim satisfaction, the
+capture of such of the unwary fugitives as might fall into his power.
+
+“Well, gentlemen, the court martial is set,” said Sir William Berkeley,
+as he gazed upon the gloomy faces of the military men around him, in the
+old court house of Accomac. In that little assembly, might be seen the
+tall and manly form of Colonel Philip Ludwell, who had been honoured, by
+the especial confidence of Berkeley, as he was, afterwards, by the
+constant and tender love of the widowed Lady Frances. There, too, was
+the stern, hard countenance of Major Robert Beverley, whose unbending
+loyalty had shut his eyes to true merit in an opponent. The names of the
+remaining members of the court, have, unfortunately, not found a place
+in the history of the rebellion. Alfred Bernard, on whom the governor
+had showered, with a lavish hand, the favours which it was in his power
+to bestow, had been promoted to the office of Major, in the room of
+Thomas Hansford, outlawed, and was, therefore, entitled to a seat at the
+council which was to try the life of his rival. But as his evidence was
+of an important character, and as he had been concerned directly in the
+arrest of the prisoner, he preferred to act in the capacity of a
+witness, rather than as a judge.
+
+“Let the prisoner be brought before the court,” said Berkeley; and in a
+few moments, Hansford, with his hands manacled, was led, between a file
+of soldiers, to the seat prepared for him. His short confinement had
+made but little change in his appearance. His face, indeed, was paler
+than usual, and his eye was brighter, for the exciting and solemn scene
+through which he was about to pass. But prejudged, though he was, his
+firmness never forsook him, and he met with a calm, but respectful gaze,
+the many eyes which were bent upon him. Conspicuous among the rebels,
+and popular and beloved in the colony, his trial had attracted a crowd
+of spectators; some impelled by vulgar curiosity, some by their loyal
+desire to witness the trial of a rebel to his king, but not a few by
+sympathy for his early and already well known fate.
+
+As might well be expected, there was but little difficulty in
+establishing his participation in the late rebellion. There were many of
+the witnesses, who had seen him in intimate association with Bacon, and
+several who recognized him as among the most active in the trenches at
+Jamestown. To crown all, the irresistible evidence was introduced by
+Bernard, that the prisoner had actually brought a threatening message to
+the governor, while at Windsor Hall, which had induced the first flight
+to Accomac. It was useless to resist the force of such accumulated
+testimony, and Hansford saw that his fate was settled. It were folly to
+contend before such a tribunal, that his acts did not constitute
+rebellion, or that the court before whom he was arraigned was
+unconstitutional. The devoted victim of their vengeance, therefore,
+awaited in silence the conclusion of this solemn farce, which they had
+dignified by the name of a trial.
+
+The evidence concluded, Sir William Berkeley, as Lord President of the
+Court, collected the suffrages of its members. It might easily be
+anticipated by their gloomy countenances, what was the solemn import of
+their judgment. Thomas Ludwell, the secretary of the council, acted as
+the clerk, and in a voice betraying much emotion, read the fatal
+decision. The sympathizing bystanders, who in awful silence awaited the
+result, drew a long breath as though relieved from their fearful
+suspense, even by having heard the worst. And Hansford was to die! He
+heard with much emotion the sentence which doomed him to a traitor's
+death the next day at noon; and those who were near, heard him sob, “My
+poor, poor mother!” But almost instantly, with a violent effort he
+controlled his feelings, and asked permission to speak.
+
+“Surely,” said the Governor, “provided your language be respectful to
+the Court, and that you say nothing reflecting on his majesty's
+government at home or in the Colony of Virginia.”
+
+“These are hard conditions,” said Hansford, rising from his seat, “as
+with such limitations, I can scarcely hope to justify my conduct. But I
+accept your courtesy, even with these conditions. A dying man has at
+last but little to say, and but little disposition to mingle again in
+the affairs of a world which he must so soon leave. In the short, the
+strangely short time allotted to me, I have higher and holier concerns
+to interest me. Ere this hour to-morrow, I will have passed from the
+scenes of earth to appear before a higher tribunal than yours, and to
+answer for the forgotten sins of my past life. But I thank my God, that
+while that awful tribunal is higher, it is also juster and more merciful
+than yours. Even in this sad moment, however, I cannot forget the
+country for which I have lived, and for which I must so soon die. I see
+by your countenances that I am already transcending your narrow limits.
+But it cannot be treason to pray for her, and as my life has been
+devoted to her service, so will my prayers for her welfare ascend with
+my petitions for forgiveness.
+
+“I would say a word as to the offence with which I have been charged,
+and the evidence on which I have been convicted. That evidence amounts
+to the fact that I was in arms, by the authority of the Governor,
+against the common enemies of my country. Is this treason? That I was
+the bearer of a threatening message to the Governor from General Bacon,
+which caused the first flight into Accomac. And here I would say,” and
+he fixed his eyes full on Alfred Bernard, as he spoke, who endeavoured
+to conceal his feelings by a smile of scorn, “that the evidence on this
+point has been cruelly, shamefully garbled and perverted. It was never
+stated that, while as the minister of another, I bore the message
+referred to, I urged the Governor to consider and retract the
+proclamation which he had made, and offered my own mediation to restore
+peace and quiet to the Colony. Had my advice been taken the beams of
+peace would have once more burst upon Virginia, the scenes which are
+constantly enacted here, and which will continue to be enacted, would
+never have disgraced the sacred name of justice; and the name of Sir
+William Berkeley would not be handed down to the execrations of
+posterity as a dishonoured knight, and a brutal, bloody butcher.”
+
+“Silence!” cried the incensed old Governor, in tones of thunder, “or by
+the wounds of God, I'll shorten the brief space which now interposes
+between you and eternity. Is this redeeming your promise of respect?”
+
+“I beg pardon,” said Hansford, undaunted by the menace. “Excuse me, if I
+cannot speak patiently of cruelty and oppression. But let this pass.
+That perfidious wretch who would rise above my ruins, never breathed a
+word of this, when on the evangelist of Almighty God he was sworn to
+speak the truth. But if such evidence be sufficient to convict me of
+treason now, why was it not sufficient then? Why, with the same facts
+before you, did you, Sir William Berkeley, discharge the traitor in
+arms, and now seek his death when disarmed and impotent? One other link
+remains in the chain, this feeble chain of evidence. I aided in the
+siege of Jamestown, and once more drove the Governor and his fond
+adherents from their capital, to their refuge in the Accomac. I cannot,
+I will not deny it. But neither can this be treason, unless, indeed, Sir
+William Berkeley possesses in his own person the sacred majesty of
+Virginia. For when he abdicated the government by his first flight from
+the soil of Virginia, the sovereign people of the Colony, assembled in
+solemn convention, declared his office vacant. In that convention, you,
+my judges, well know, for you found it to your cost, were present a
+majority of the governor's council, the whole army, and almost the
+entire chivalry and talent of the colony. In their name writs were
+issued for an assembly, which met under their authority, and the
+commission of governor was placed in the hands of Nathaniel Bacon.”
+
+“By an unauthorized mob,” said Berkeley, unable to restrain his
+impatience.
+
+“By an organized convention of sovereign people,” returned Hansford,
+proudly. “You, Sir William Berkeley, deemed it not an unauthorized mob,
+when confiding in your justice, and won by your soft promises, a similar
+convention, composed of cavaliers and rich landholders, confided to
+your hands, in 1659, the high trust which you now hold. If such a
+proceeding were unauthorized then, were you not guilty in accepting the
+commission? If authorized, were not the same people competent to bestow
+the trust upon another, whom they deemed more worthy to hold it? If this
+be so, the insurgents, as you have chosen to call them, were not in arms
+against the government at the siege of Jamestown. And thus the last
+strand in the coil of evidence, with which you have involved me, is
+broken, as withs are severed at the touch of fire. But light as is the
+testimony against me, it is sufficient to turn the beam of justice, when
+the sword of Brennus is cast into the scale.
+
+“One word more and I am done; for I see you are impatient for the
+sacrifice. I had thought that I would have been tried by a jury of my
+peers. Such I deemed my right as a British subject. But condemned by the
+extraordinary and unwarranted proceedings of this Star Chamber”—
+
+“Silence!” cried Berkeley, again waxing wroth at such an imputation.
+
+“I beg pardon once more,” continued Hansford, “I thought the favourite
+institution of Charles the First would not have met with so little
+favour from such loyal cavaliers. But I demand in the name of Freedom,
+in the name of England, in the name of God and Justice, when was Magna
+Charta or the Petition of Right abolished on the soil of Virginia? Is
+the Governor of Virginia so little of a lawyer that he remembers not the
+language of the stout Barons of Runnymede, unadorned in style, but
+pregnant with freedom. 'No freeman may be taken or imprisoned, or be
+disseised of his freehold or liberties, or his free-customs, or be
+outlawed or exiled, or in any manner destroyed, but by the lawful
+judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land.' Excuse me, gentlemen,
+for repeating to such sage judges so old and hackneyed a fragment of the
+law. But until to-day, I had been taught to hold those words as sacred,
+and as indeed containing the charter of the liberties of an Englishman.
+Alas! it will no longer be hackneyed nor quoted by the slaves of
+England, except when they mourn with bitter but hopeless tears, for the
+higher and purer freedom of their ruder fathers. Why am I thus arraigned
+before a court-martial in time of peace? Am I found in arms? Am I even
+an officer or a soldier? The commission which I once held has been torn
+from me, and given, as his thirty pieces, to you dissembling Judas, for
+the price of my betrayal. But I am done. Your tyranny and oppression
+cannot last for ever. The compressed spring will at last recoil with
+power proportionate to the force by which it has been restrained—and
+freed posterity will avenge on a future tyrant my cruel and unnatural
+murder.”
+
+Hansford sat down, and Sir William Berkeley, flushed with indignation,
+replied,
+
+“I had hoped that the near approach of death, if not a higher motive,
+would have saved us from such treasonable sentiments. But, sir, the
+insolence of your manner has checked any sympathy which I might have
+entertained for your early fate. I, therefore, have only to pronounce
+the judgment of the court; that you be taken to the place whence you
+came, and there safely kept until to-morrow noon, when you will be
+taken, with a rope about your neck, to the common gallows, and there
+hung by the neck until you are dead. And may the Lord Jesus Christ have
+mercy on your soul!”
+
+“Amen!” was murmured, in sad whispers, by the hundreds of pale
+spectators who crowded around the unhappy prisoner.
+
+“How is this!” cried Hansford, once more rising to his feet, with strong
+emotion. “Gentlemen, you are soldiers, as such I may claim you as
+brethren, as such you should be brave and generous men. On that
+generosity, in this hour of peril, I throw myself, and ask as a last
+indulgence, as a dying favour, that I may die the death of a soldier,
+and not of a felon.”
+
+“You have lived a traitor's, not a soldier's life,” said Berkeley, in an
+insulting tone. “A soldier's life is devoted to his king and country;
+yours to a rebel and to treason. You shall die the death of a traitor.”
+
+“Well, then, I have done,” said Hansford, with a sigh, “and must look to
+Him alone for mercy, who can make the felon's gallows as bright a
+pathway to happiness, as the field of glory.”
+
+Many a cheek flushed with indignation at the refusal of the governor to
+grant this last petition of a brave man. A murmur of dissatisfaction
+arose from the crowd, and even some sturdy loyalists were heard to
+mutter, “shame.” The other members of the court were seen to confer
+together, and to remonstrate with the governor.
+
+“'Fore God, no,” said Berkeley, in a whisper to his advisers. “Think of
+the precedent it will establish. Traitor he has lived, and as far as my
+voice can go, traitor he shall die. I suppose the sheep-killing hound,
+and the egg-sucking cur, will next whine out their request to be shot
+instead of hung.”
+
+So great was the influence of Berkeley, over the minds of the court,
+that, after a feeble remonstrance, the petition of the prisoner was
+rejected. Old Beverley alone, was heard to mutter in the ear of Philip
+Ludwell, that it was a shame to deny a brave man a soldier's death, and
+doom him to a dog's fate.
+
+“And for all this,” he added, “its a damned hard lot, and blast me, but
+I think Hansford to be worth in bravery and virtue, fifty of that
+painted popinjay, Bernard, whose cruelty is as much beyond his years as
+his childish vanity is beneath them.”
+
+“Well, gentlemen, I trust you are now satisfied,” said Berkeley.
+“Sheriff, remove your prisoner, and,” looking angrily around at the
+malecontents, “if necessary, summon an additional force to assist you.”
+
+The officer, however, deemed no such precaution necessary, and the
+hapless Hansford was conducted back to his cell under the same guard
+that brought him thence; there to await the execution on the morrow of
+the fearful sentence to which he had been condemned.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+    _Isabella._ “Yet show some pity.
+
+    _Angelo._ I show it most of all when I show justice.”
+                                              _Measure for Measure._
+
+
+That evening Sir William Berkeley was sitting in the private room at the
+tavern, which had been fitted up for his reception. He had strictly
+commanded his servants to deny admittance to any one who might wish to
+see him. The old man was tired of counsellors, advisers, and
+petitioners, who harassed him in their attempt to curb his impatient
+ire, and he was determined to act entirely for himself. He had thus been
+sitting for more than an hour, looking moodily into the fire, without
+even the officious Lady Frances to interfere with his reflections, when
+a servant in livery entered the room.
+
+“If your Honour please,” said the obsequious servitor, “there is a lady
+at the door who says she must see you on urgent business. I told her
+that you could not be seen, but she at last gave me this note, which she
+begged me to hand you.”
+
+Berkeley impatiently tore open the note and read as follows:—
+
+     “By his friendship for my father, and his former kindness to me, I
+     ask for a brief interview with Sir William Berkeley.
+                                                    “VIRGINIA TEMPLE.”
+
+“Fore God!” said the Governor, angrily, “they beset me with an
+importunity which makes me wretched. What the devil can the girl want!
+Some favour for Bernard, I suppose. Well, any thing for a moment's
+respite from these troublesome rebels. Show her up, Dabney.”
+
+In another moment the door again opened, and Virginia Temple, pale and
+trembling, fell upon her knees before the Governor, and raised her soft,
+blue eyes to his face so imploringly, that the heart of the old man was
+moved to pity.
+
+“Rise, my daughter,” he said, tenderly; “tell me your cause of grief. It
+surely cannot be so deep as to bring you thus upon your knees to an old
+friend. Rise then, and tell me.”
+
+“Oh, thank you,” she said, with a trembling voice, “I knew that you were
+kind, and would listen to my prayer.”
+
+“Well, Virginia,” said the Governor, in the same mild tone, “let me hear
+your request? You know, we old servants of the king have not much time
+to spare at best, and these are busy times. Is your father well, and
+your good mother? Can I serve them in any thing?”
+
+“They are both well and happy, nor do they need your aid,” said
+Virginia; “but I, sir, oh! how can I speak. I have come from Windsor
+Hall to ask that you will be just and merciful. There is, sir, a brave
+man here in chains, who is doomed to die—to die to-morrow. Oh,
+Hansford, Hansford!” and unable longer to control her emotion, the poor,
+broken-hearted girl burst into an agony of tears.
+
+Berkeley's brow clouded in an instant.
+
+“And is it for that unhappy man, my poor girl, that you have come alone
+to sue?”
+
+“I did not come alone,” replied Virginia; “my father is with me, and
+will himself unite in my request.”
+
+“I will be most happy to see my old friend again, but I would that he
+came on some less hopeless errand. Major Hansford must die. The laws
+alike of his God and his country, which he has trampled regardless under
+foot, require the sacrifice of his blood.”
+
+“But, for the interposition of mercy,” urged the poor girl, “the laws of
+God require the death of all—and the laws of his country have vested in
+you the right to arrest their rigour at your will. Oh, how much sweeter
+to be merciful than sternly just!”
+
+“Nay, my poor girl,” said Sir William, “you speak of what you cannot
+understand, and your own griefs have blinded your mind. Justice,
+Virginia, is mercy; for by punishing the offender it prevents the
+repetition of the offence. The vengeance of the law thus becomes the
+safeguard of society, and the sword of justice becomes the sceptre of
+righteousness.”
+
+“I cannot reason with you,” returned Virginia. “You are a statesman, and
+I am but a poor, weak girl, ignorant of the ways of the world.”
+
+“And therefore you have come to advocate this suit instead of your
+father,” said Berkeley, smiling. “I see through your little plot
+already. Come, tell me now, am I not right in my conjecture? Why have
+you come to urge the cause of Hansford, instead of your father?”
+
+“Because,” said Virginia, with charming simplicity, “we both thought,
+that as Sir William Berkeley had already decided upon the fate of this
+unhappy man, it would be easier to reach his heart, than to affect the
+mature decision of his judgment.”
+
+“You argued rightly, my dear girl,” said Berkeley, touched by her
+frankness and simplicity, as well as by her tears. “But it is the hard
+fate of those in power to deny themselves often the luxury of mercy,
+while they tread onward in the rough but straight path of justice. It is
+ours to follow the stern maxim of our old friend Shakspeare:
+
+    'Mercy but murders, pardoning those who kill.'”
+
+“But it does seem to me,” said the resolute girl, losing all the native
+diffidence of her character in the interest she felt in her cause—“it
+does seem to me that even stern policy would sometimes dictate mercy.
+May not a judicious clemency often secure the love of the misguided
+citizen, while harsh justice would estrange him still farther from
+loyalty?”
+
+“There, you are trenching upon your father's part, my child,” said the
+Governor. “You must not go beyond your own cue, you know—for believe me
+that your plea for mercy would avail far more with me than your reasons,
+however cogent. This rebellion proceeded too far to justify any clemency
+toward those who promoted it.”
+
+“But it is now suppressed,” said Virginia, resolutely; “and is it not
+the sweetest attribute of power, to help the fallen? Oh, remember,” she
+added, carried away completely by her subject,
+
+    “'Less pleasure take brave minds in battles won,
+    Than in restoring such as are undone;
+    Tigers have courage, and the rugged bear,
+    But man alone can, when he conquers, spare.'”
+
+“I did not expect to hear your father's daughter defend her cause by
+such lines as these. Do you know where they are found?”
+
+“They are Waller's, I believe,” said Virginia, blushing at this
+involuntary display of learning; “but it is their truth, and not their
+author, which suggested them to me.”
+
+“Your memory is correct,” said Berkeley, with a smile, “but they are
+found in his panegyric on the Protector. A eulogy upon a traitor is bad
+authority with an old cavalier like me.”
+
+“If, then, you need authority which you cannot question,” the girl
+replied, earnestly, “do you think that the royal cause lost strength by
+the mild policy of Charles the Second? That is authority that even you
+dare not question.”
+
+“Well, and what if I should say,” replied Berkeley, “that this very
+leniency was one of the causes that encouraged the recent rebellion? But
+go, my child; I would rejoice if I could please you, but Hansford's fate
+is settled. I pity you, but I cannot forgive him.” And with a courteous
+inclination of his head, he signified his desire that their interview
+should end.
+
+“Nay,” shrieked Virginia, in desperation, “I will not let you go, except
+you bless me,” and throwing herself again upon her knees, she implored
+his mercy. Berkeley, who, with all his sternness, was not an unfeeling
+man, was deeply moved. What the result might have been can never be
+known, for at that moment a voice was heard from the street exclaiming,
+“Drummond is taken!” In an instant the whole appearance of the Governor
+changed. His cheek flushed and his eye sparkled, as with hasty strides
+he left the room and descended the stairs. No more the fine specimen of
+a cavalier gentleman, his manner became at once harsh and irritable.
+
+“Well, Mr. Drummond,” he cried, as he saw the proud rebel led manacled
+to the door. “'Fore God, and I am more delighted to see you than any man
+in the colony. You shall hang in half an hour.”
+
+“And if he do,” shrieked the wild voice of a woman from the crowd,
+“think you that with your puny hand you can arrest the current of
+liberty in this colony? And when you appear before the dread bar of
+God, the spirits of these martyred patriots will rise up to condemn you,
+and fiends shall snatch at your blood-stained soul, perfidious tyrant!
+And I will be among them, for such a morsel of vengeance would sweeten
+hell. Ha! ha! ha!”
+
+With that wild, maniac laugh, Sarah Drummond disappeared from the crowd
+of astounded spectators.
+
+History informs us that the deadly threat of Berkeley was carried into
+effect immediately. But it was not until two days afterwards that
+William Drummond met a traitor's doom upon the common gallows.
+
+Virginia Temple, thus abruptly left, and deprived of all hope, fell
+senseless on the floor of the room. The hope which had all along
+sustained her brave young heart, had now vanished forever, and kindly
+nature relieved the agony of her despair by unconsciousness. And there
+she lay, pale and beautiful, upon that floor, while the noisy clamour
+without was hailing the capture of another victim, whose fate was to
+bring sorrow and despair to another broken heart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII.
+
+    “His nature is so far from doing harm,
+    That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty
+    My practices ride easy.”
+                                            _King Lear._
+
+
+When Virginia aroused again to consciousness, her eyes met the features
+of Alfred Bernard, as he knelt over her form. Not yet realizing her
+situation, she gazed wildly about her, and in a hoarse, husky whisper,
+which fell horridly on the ear, she said, “Where is my father?”
+
+“At home, Virginia,” replied Bernard, softly, chafing her white temples
+the while—“And you are here in Accomac. Look up, Virginia, and see that
+you are not without a friend even here.”
+
+“Oh, now, yes, now I know it all,” she shrieked, springing up with a
+wild bound, and rushing like a maniac toward the door. “They have killed
+him! I have slept here, instead of begging his life. I have murdered
+him! Ha! you, sir, are you the jailer? I should know your face.”
+
+“Nay, do not speak thus, Virginia,” said Bernard, holding her gently in
+his arms, “Hansford is yet alive. Be calm.”
+
+“Hansford! I thought he was dead!” said the poor girl, her mind still
+wandering. “Did not Mamalis—no—she is dead—all are dead—ha? where am
+I? Sure this is not Windsor Hall. Nay, what am I talking about. Let me
+see;” and she pressed her hand to her forehead, and smoothed back her
+fair hair, as she strove to collect her thoughts. “Ah! now I know,” she
+said at length, more calmly, “I beg your pardon, Mr. Bernard, I have
+acted very foolishly, I fear. But you will forgive a poor distracted
+girl.”
+
+“I promised you my influence with the governor,” said Bernard, “and I do
+not yet despair of effecting my object. And so be calm.”
+
+“Despair!” said Virginia, bitterly, “as well might you expect to turn a
+river from the sea, as to turn the relentless heart of that bigoted old
+tyrant from blood. And yet, I thank you, Mr. Bernard, and beg that you
+will leave no means untried to preserve my poor doomed Hansford. You see
+I am quite calm now, and should you fail in your efforts to procure a
+pardon, may I ask one last melancholy favour at your hands! I would see
+him once more before we part, forever.” And to prove how little she knew
+her own heart, the poor girl burst into a renewed agony of grief.
+
+“Calm your feelings, then, dear Virginia,” said Bernard, “and you shall
+see him. But by giving way thus, you would unman him.”
+
+“You remind me of my duty, my friend,” said Virginia, controlling
+herself, with a strong effort, “and I will not again forget it in my
+selfish grief. Shall we go now?”
+
+“Remain here, but a few moments, patiently,” he replied, “and I will
+seek the governor, and urge him to relent. If I fail, I will return to
+you.”
+
+Leaving the young girl once more to her own sad reflections, Alfred
+Bernard left the room.
+
+“Virtue has its own reward,” he muttered, as he walked slowly along. “I
+wonder how many would be virtuous if it were not so! Self is at last the
+mainspring of action, and when it produces good, we call it virtue; when
+it accomplishes evil, we call it vice; wherein, then, am I worse than my
+fellow man? Here am I, now, giving this poor girl a interview with her
+rebel lover, and extracting some happiness for them, even from their
+misery. And yet I am not a whit the worse off. Nay, I am benefited, for
+gratitude is a sure prompter of love; and when Hansford is out of the
+way, who so fit to supply the niche, left vacant in her heart, as Alfred
+Bernard, who soothed their mutual grief. Thus virtue is often a valuable
+handmaid to success, and may be used for our purposes, when we want her
+assistance, and afterwards be whistled to the winds as a pestilent jade.
+Machiavelli in politics, Loyola in religion, Rochefoucault in society,
+ye are the mighty three, who, seeing the human heart in all its
+nakedness, have dared to tear the mask from its deformed and hideous
+features.”
+
+“What in the world are you muttering about, Alfred?” said Governor
+Berkeley, as they met in the porch, as Bernard had finished this
+diabolical soliloquy.
+
+“Oh nothing,” replied the young intriguer. “But I came to seek your
+excellency.”
+
+“And I to seek for you, my sage young counsellor; I have to advise with
+you upon a subject which lies heavy on my heart, Alfred.”
+
+“You need only command my counsel and it is yours,” said Bernard, “but I
+fear that I can be of little assistance in your reflections.”
+
+“Yes you can, my boy,” returned Berkeley, “I know not whether you will
+esteem it a compliment or not, Alfred, but yours is an old head on young
+shoulders, and the heart, which in the season of youth often flits away
+from the sober path of judgment, seems with you to follow steadily in
+the wake of reason.”
+
+“If you mean that I am ever ready to sacrifice my own selfish impulses
+to my duty, I do esteem it as a compliment, though I fear not altogether
+deserved.”
+
+“Well, then,” said the Governor, “this poor boy, Hansford, who is to
+suffer death to-morrow, I have had a strange interview concerning him
+since I last saw you.”
+
+“Aye, with Miss Temple,” returned Bernard. “She told me she had seen
+you, and that you were as impregnable to assault as the rock of
+Gibraltar.”
+
+“I thought so too, where treason was concerned,” said Berkeley. “But
+some how, the leaven of the poor girl's tears is working strangely in my
+heart; and after I had left her, who should I meet but her old father.”
+
+“Is Colonel Temple here?” asked Bernard, surprised.
+
+“Aye is he, and urged Hansford's claims to pardon with such force, that
+I had to fly from temptation. Nay he even put his plea for mercy upon
+the ground of his own former kindness to me.”
+
+“The good old gentleman seems determined to be paid for that
+hospitality,” said Bernard, with a sneer. “Well!”
+
+“Well, altogether I am almost determined to interpose my reprieve,
+until the wishes of his majesty are known,” said Berkeley, with some
+hesitation.
+
+Bernard was silent, for some moments, and the Governor continued.
+
+“What do you say to this course Alfred?”
+
+“Simply, that if you are determined, I have nothing to say.”
+
+“Nay, but I am not determined, my young friend.”
+
+“Then I must ask you what are the grounds of your hesitation, before I
+can express an opinion?” said Bernard.
+
+“Well, first,” said the Governor, “because it will be a personal favour
+to Colonel Temple, and will dry the tears in those blue eyes of his
+pretty daughter. His kindness to me in this unhappy rebellion would be
+but poorly requited, if I refused the first and only favour that he has
+ever asked of me.”
+
+“Then hereafter,” returned Bernard, quietly, “it would be good policy in
+a rebellion, for half the rebels to remain at home and entertain the
+Governor at their houses. They would thus secure the pardon of the
+rest.”
+
+“Well, you young Solomon,” said Berkeley, laughing, “I believe you are
+right there. It would be a dangerous precedent. But then, a reprieve is
+not a pardon, and while I might thus oblige my friends, the king could
+hereafter see the cause of justice vindicated.”
+
+“And you would shift your own responsibility upon the king,” replied
+Bernard. “Has not Charles Stuart enough to trouble him, with his
+rebellious subjects at home, without having to supervise every petty
+felony or treason that occurs in his distant colonies? This provision of
+our charter, denying to the Governor the power of absolute pardon, but
+granting him power to reprieve, was only made, that in doubtful cases,
+the minister might rely upon the wisdom of majesty. It was never
+intended to shift all the trouble and vexation of a colonial executive
+upon the overloaded hands of the king. If you have any doubt of
+Hansford's guilt, I would be the last to turn your heart from clemency,
+by a word of my mouth. If he be guilty, I only ask whether Sir William
+Berkeley is the man to shrink from responsibility, and to fasten upon
+his royal master the odium, if odium there be, attending the execution
+of the sentence against a rebel.”
+
+“Zounds, no, Bernard, you know I am not. But then there are a plenty of
+rebels to sate the vengeance of the law, besides this poor young fellow.
+Does justice demand that all should perish?”
+
+“My kind patron,” said Bernard, “to whom I owe all that I have and am,
+do not further urge me to oppose feelings so honorable to your heart.
+Exercise your clemency towards this unhappy young man, in whose fate I
+feel as deep an interest as yourself. If harm should flow from your
+mercy, who can censure you for acting from motives so generous and
+humane. If by your mildness you should encourage rebellion again,
+posterity will pardon the weakness of the Governor in the benevolence of
+the man.”
+
+“Stay,” said Berkeley, his pride wounded by this imputation, “you know,
+Alfred, that if I thought that clemency towards this young rebel would
+encourage rebellion in the future, I would rather lose my life than
+spare his. But speak out, and tell me candidly why you think the
+execution of this sentence necessary to satisfy justice.”
+
+“You force me to an ungrateful duty,” replied the young hypocrite, “for
+it is far more grateful to the heart of a benevolent man to be the
+advocate of mercy, than the stern champion of justice. But since you ask
+my reasons, it is my duty to obey you. First, then, this young man, from
+his talent, his bravery, and his high-flown notions about liberty, is
+far more dangerous than any of the insurgents who have survived
+Nathaniel Bacon. Then, he has shown that so far from repenting of his
+treason, he is ready to justify it, as witness his speech, wherein he
+predicted the triumph of revolution in Virginia, and denounced the
+vengeance of future generations upon tyranny and oppression. Nay, he
+even went farther, and characterized as brutal bloody butchers the
+avengers of the broken laws of their country.”
+
+“I remember,” said Berkeley, turning pale at the recollection.
+
+“But there is another cogent reason why he should suffer the penalty
+which he has so richly incurred. If your object be to secure the
+returning loyalty and affection of the people, you should not incense
+them by unjust discrimination in favour of a particular rebel. The
+friends of Drummond, of Lawrence, of Cheeseman, of Wilford, of Bland, of
+Carver, will all say, and say with justice, that you spared the
+principal leader in the rebellion, the personal friend and adviser of
+Bacon, while their own kinsmen were doomed to the scaffold. Nor will
+those ghosts walk unavenged.”
+
+“I see, I see,” cried Berkeley, grasping Bernard warmly by the hand.
+“You have saved me, Alfred, from a weakness which I must ever afterwards
+have deplored, and at the expense of your own feelings, my boy.”
+
+“Yes, my dear patron,” replied Bernard, with a sigh, “you may well say
+at the expense of my own feelings. For I too, have just witnessed a
+scene which would have moved a heart of stone; and it was at the request
+of that poor, weeping, broken-hearted girl, to save whom from distress,
+I would willingly lay down my life—it was at her request that I came to
+beg at your hands the poor privilege of a last interview with her lover.
+Even Justice, stern as are her decrees, cannot deny this boon to Mercy.”
+
+“You have a generous heart, my dear boy,” said the Governor, with the
+tears starting from his eyes. “There are not many men who would thus
+take delight in ministering consolation to the heart of a successful
+rival. You have my full and free permission. Go, my son, and through
+life may your heart be ever thus awake to such generous impulses, yet
+sustained and controlled by your unwavering devotion to duty and
+justice.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII.
+
+    “My life, my health, my liberty, my all!
+    How shall I welcome thee to this sad place—
+    How speak to thee the words of joy and transport?
+    How run into thy arms, withheld by fetters,
+    Or take thee into mine, while I'm thus manacled
+    And pinioned like a thief or murderer?”
+                                  _The Mourning Bride._
+
+
+How different from the soliloquy of the dark and treacherous Bernard,
+seeking in the sophistry and casuistry of philosophy to justify his
+selfishness, were the thoughts of his noble victim! Too brave to fear
+death, yet too truly great not to feel in all its solemnity the grave
+importance of the hour; with a soul formed for the enjoyment of this
+world, yet fully prepared to encounter the awful mysteries of another,
+the heart of Thomas Hansford beat calmly and healthfully, unappalled by
+the certainty that on the morrow it would beat no more. He was seated on
+a rude cot, in the room which was prepared for his brief confinement,
+reading his Bible. The proud man, who relying on his own strength had
+braved many dangers, and whose cheek had never blanched from fear of an
+earthly adversary, was not ashamed in this, his hour of great need, to
+seek consolation and support from Him who alone could conduct him
+through the dark valley of the shadow of death.
+
+The passage which he read was one of the sublime strains of the rapt
+Isaiah, and never had the promise seemed sweeter and dearer to his soul
+than now, when he could so fully appropriate it to himself.
+
+“Fear not for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by my name; thou
+art mine.
+
+“When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee; and through
+the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the
+fire thou shalt not be burnt; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.
+
+“For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy one of Israel, thy Saviour.”
+
+As he read and believed the blessed assurance contained in the sacred
+promise, he learned to feel that death was indeed but the threshold to a
+purer world. So absorbed was he in the contemplation of this sublime
+theme, that he did not hear the door open, and it was some time before
+he looked up and saw Alfred Bernard and Virginia Temple, who had quietly
+entered the room.
+
+Virginia's resolution entirely gave way, and violently trembling from
+head to foot, her hands and brow as white and cold as marble, she well
+nigh sank under the sickening effect of her agony. For all this she did
+not weep. There are wounds which never indicate their existence by
+outward bleeding, and such are esteemed most dangerous. 'Tis thus with
+the spirit-wounds which despair inflicts upon its victim. Nature yields
+not to the soul the sad relief of tears, but falling in bitter drops
+they petrify and crush the sad heart, which they fail to relieve.
+
+Hansford, too, was much moved, but with a greater control of his
+feelings he said, “And so, you have come to take a last farewell,
+Virginia. This is very, very kind.”
+
+“I regret,” said Alfred Bernard, “that the only condition on which I
+gained admittance for Miss Temple was, that I should remain during the
+interview. Major Hansford will see the necessity of such a precaution,
+and will, I am sure, pardon an intrusion as painful to me as to
+himself.”
+
+The reader, who has been permitted to see the secret workings of that
+black heart, which was always veiled from the world, need not be told
+that no such precaution was proposed by the Governor. Bernard's object
+was more selfish; it was to prevent his victim from prejudicing the mind
+of Virginia towards him, by informing her of the prominent part that he
+had taken in Hansford's trial and conviction.
+
+“Oh, certainly, sir,” replied Hansford, gratefully, “and I thank you,
+Mr. Bernard, for thus affording me an opportunity of taking a last
+farewell of the strongest tie which yet binds me to earth. I had thought
+till now,” he added, with emotion, “that I was fully prepared to meet my
+fate. Well, Virginia, the play is almost over, and the last dread scene,
+tragic though it be, cannot last long.”
+
+“Oh, God!” cried the trembling girl, “help me—help me to bear this
+heavy blow.”
+
+“Nay, speak not thus, my own Virginia,” he said. “Remember that my lot
+is but the common destiny of mankind, only hastened a few hours. The
+leaves, that the chill autumn breath has strewn upon the earth, will be
+supplied by others in the spring, which in their turn will sport for a
+season in the summer wind, and fade and die with another year. Thus one
+generation passes away, and another comes, like them to live, like them
+to die and be forgotten. We need not fear death, if we have discharged
+our duty.”
+
+With such words of cold philosophy did Hansford strive to console the
+sad heart of Virginia.
+
+“'Tis true, the death I die,” he added with a shudder, “is what men
+call disgraceful—but the heart need feel no fear which is sheltered by
+the Rock of Ages.”
+
+“And yours is sheltered there, I know,” she said. “The change for you,
+though sudden and awful, must be happy; but for me! for me!—oh, God, my
+heart will break!”
+
+“Virginia, Virginia,” said Hansford, tenderly, as he tried with his poor
+manacled hands to support her almost fainting form, “control yourself.
+Oh, do not add to my sorrows by seeing you suffer thus. You have still
+many duties to perform—to soothe the declining years of your old
+parents—to cheer with your warm heart the many friends who love
+you—and, may I add,” he continued, with a faltering voice, “that my
+poor, poor mother will need your consolation. She will soon be without a
+protector on earth, and this sad news, I fear, will well nigh break her
+heart. To you, and to the kind hands of her merciful Father in heaven, I
+commit the charge of my widowed mother. Oh, will you not grant the last
+request of your own Hansford?”
+
+And Virginia promised, and well and faithfully did she redeem that
+promise. That widowed mother gained a daughter in the loss of her noble
+boy, and died blessing the pure-hearted girl, whose soothing affection
+had sweetened her bitter sorrows, and smoothed her pathway to the quiet
+grave.
+
+“And now, Mr. Bernard,” said Hansford, “it is useless to prolong this
+sad interview. We have been enemies. Forgive me if I have ever done you
+wrong—the prayers of a dying man are for your happiness. Farewell,
+Virginia, remember me to your kind old father and mother; and look you,”
+he added, with a sigh, “give this lock of my hair to my poor mother, and
+tell her that her orphan boy, who died blessing her, requested that she
+would place it in her old Bible, where I know she will often see it, and
+remember me when I am gone forever. Once more, Virginia, fare well!
+Remember, dearest, that this brief life is but a segment of the great
+circle of existence. The larger segment is beyond the grave. Then live
+on bravely, as I know you will virtuously, and we will meet in Heaven.”
+
+Without a word, for she dared not speak, Virginia received his last kiss
+upon her pale, cold forehead, and cherished it there as a seal of love,
+sacred as the sign of the Redeemer's cross, traced on the infant brow at
+the baptismal font.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX.
+
+    “Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
+      With a woeful agony,
+    Which forced me to begin my tale,
+      And then it left me free.
+    Since then, at an uncertain hour,
+      That agony returns,
+    And till this ghastly tale is told
+      My heart within me burns.”
+                      _Rime of the Ancient Mariner._
+
+
+The sun shone brightly the next morning, as it rose above the forest of
+tall pines which surrounded the little village of Accomac; and as its
+rays stained the long icicles on the evergreen branches of the trees,
+they looked like the pendant jewels of amber which hung from the ears of
+the fierce, untutored chieftains of the forest. The air was clear and
+frosty, and the broad heaven, that hung like a blue curtain above the
+busy world, seemed even purer and more beautiful than ever. There, calm
+and eternal, it spread in its unclouded glory, above waters, woods,
+wilds, as if unmindful of the sorrows and the cares of earth. So hovers
+the wide providence of the eternal God over his creation, unmoved in its
+sublime depths by the joys and woes which agitate the mind of man, yet
+shining over him still, in its clear beauty, and beckoning him upwards!
+
+But on none did the sun shine with more brightness, or the sky smile
+with more bitter mockery, on that morning, than on the dark forms of
+Arthur Hutchinson and his young pupil, Alfred Bernard, as they sat
+together in the embrasure of the window which lightened the little room
+of the grave old preacher. A terrible revelation was that morning to be
+made, involving the fate of the young jesuit, and meting out a dread
+retribution for the crime that he had committed. Arthur Hutchinson had
+reserved for this day the narrative of the birth and history of Alfred
+Bernard. It had been a story which he long had desired to know, but to
+all his urgent inquiries the old preacher had given an evasive reply.
+But now there was no longer need for mystery. The design of that long
+silence had been fully accomplished, and thus the stern misanthrope
+began his narrative:
+
+“It matters little, Alfred Bernard, to speak of my own origin and
+parentage. Suffice it to say, that though not noble, by the accepted
+rules of heraldry, my parents were noble in that higher sense, in which
+all may aspire to true nobility, a patent not granted for bloody feats
+in arms, nor by an erring man, but granted to true honesty and virtue
+from the court of heaven. I was not rich, and yet, by self-denial on the
+part of my parents, and by strict economy on my own part, I succeeded in
+entering Baliol College, Oxford, where I pursued my studies with
+diligence and success. This success was more essential, because I could
+look only to my own resources in my struggle with the world. But, more
+than this, I had already learned to think and care for another than
+myself; for I had yielded my young heart to one, who requited my
+affection with her own. I have long denied myself the luxury of looking
+back upon the bright image of that fair creature, so fair, and yet so
+fatal. But for your sake, and for mine own, I will draw aside the veil,
+which has fallen upon those early scenes, and look at them again.
+
+“Mary Howard was just eighteen years of age, when she plighted her troth
+to me; and surely never has Heaven placed a purer spirit in a more
+lovely form. Trusting and affectionate, her warm heart must needs fasten
+upon something it might love; and because we had been reared together,
+and she was ignorant of the larger world around her, her love was fixed
+on me. I will not go back to those bright, joyous days of innocence and
+happiness. They are gone forever, Alfred Bernard, and I have lived, and
+now live for another object, than to indulge in the recollection of joy
+and love. The saddest day of my whole life, except one, and that has
+darkened all the rest, was when I first left her side to go to college.
+But still we looked onward with high hope, and many were the castles in
+the air, or rather the vine clad cottages, which we reared in fancy, for
+our future home. Hope, Alfred Bernard, though long deferred, it may
+sicken the heart, yet hope, however faint, is better than despair.
+
+“Well! I went to college, and my love for Mary spurred me on in my
+career, and honours came easily, but were only prized because she would
+be proud of them. But though I was a hard student, I was not without my
+friends, for I had a trusting heart then. Among these, yes, chief among
+these, was Edward Hansford.”
+
+Bernard started at the mention of that name. He felt that some dark
+mystery was about to be unravelled, which would establish his connection
+with the unhappy rebel. Yet he was lost in conjecture as to the
+character of the revelation.
+
+“I have never in my long experience,” continued Hutchinson, smiling
+sadly, as he observed the effect produced, “known any man who possessed,
+in so high a degree, the qualities which make men beloved and honoured.
+Brave, generous, and chivalrous; brilliant in genius, classical in
+attainment, profound in intellect. His person was a fit palace for such
+a mind and such a heart. Yes, I can think of him now as he was, when I
+first knew him, before crime of the deepest dye had darkened his soul. I
+loved him as I never had loved a man before, as I never can love a man
+again. I might forgive the past, I could never trust again.
+
+“Edward returned my love, I believe, with his whole heart. Our studies
+were the same, our feelings and opinions were congenial, and, in short,
+in the language of our great bard, we grew 'like a double cherry, only
+seeming parted.' I made him my confidant, and he used to laugh, in his
+good humoured way, at my enthusiastic description of Mary. He threatened
+to fall in love with her, himself, and to win her heart from me, and I
+dared him to do so, if he could; and even, in my joyous triumph, invited
+him home with me in vacation, that he might see the lovely conquest I
+had made. Well, home we went together, and his welcome was all that I or
+he could wish. Mary, my sweet, confiding Mary, was so kind and gentle,
+that I loved her only the more, because she loved my friend so much. I
+never dreamed of jealousy, Alfred Bernard, or I might have seen
+beforehand the wiles of the insidious tempter. How often have I looked
+with transport on their graceful forms, as they stood to watch the
+golden sunset, from that sweet old porch, over which the roses clambered
+so thickly.
+
+“But why do I thus delay. The story is at last a brief one. It wanted
+but two days of our return to Oxford, and we were all spending the day
+together at old farmer Howard's. Mary seemed strangely sad that evening,
+and whenever I spoke to her, her eyes filled with tears, and she
+trembled violently. Fool that I was, I attributed her tears and her
+agitation to her regret at parting from her lover. Little did I suspect
+the terrible storm which awaited me. Well, we parted, as lovers part,
+with sighs and tears, but with me, and alas! with me alone in hope.
+Edward himself looked moody and low-spirited, and I recollect that to
+cheer him up, I rallied him on being in love with Mary. Never will I
+forget his look, now that the riddle is solved, as he replied, fixing
+his clear, intense blue eyes upon me, 'Arthur, the wisest philosophy is,
+not to trust your all in one venture. He who embarks his hopes and
+happiness in the heart of one woman, may make shipwreck of them all.'
+
+“'And so you, Mr. Philosopher,' I replied, gaily, 'would live and die an
+old bachelor. Now, for mine own part, with little Mary's love, I promise
+you that my baccalaureate degree at Oxford will be the only one to which
+I will aspire.'
+
+“He smiled, but said nothing, and we parted for the night.
+
+“Early the next morning, even before the sun had risen, I went to his
+room to wake him—for on that day we were to have a last hunt. We had
+been laying up a stock of health, by such manly exercises for the coming
+session. Intimate as I was with him, I did not hesitate to enter his
+room without announcing myself. To my surprise he was not there, and the
+bed had evidently not been occupied. As I was about to leave the room,
+in some alarm, my eye rested upon a letter, which was lying on the
+table, and addressed to me. With a trembling hand I tore it open, and
+oh, my God! it told me all—the faithlessness of my Mary, the villainy
+of my friend.”
+
+“The perfidious wretch,” cried Bernard, with indignation.
+
+“Beware, Alfred Bernard,” said the clergyman; “you know not what you
+say. My tale is not yet done. I remember every word of that brief letter
+now—although more than thirty years have since passed over me. It ran
+thus:
+
+“'Forgive me, Arthur; I meant not to have wronged you when I came, but
+in an unhappy moment temptation met me, and I yielded. My perfidy cannot
+be long concealed. Heaven has ordained that the fruit of our mutual
+guilt shall appear as the witness of my baseness and of Mary's shame.
+Forgive me, but above all, forgive her, Arthur.'
+
+“This was all. No name was even signed to the death warrant of all my
+hopes. At that moment a cold chill came over my heart, which has never
+left it since. That letter was the Medusa which turned it into stone. I
+did not rave—I did not weep. Believe me, Alfred Bernard, I was as calm
+at that moment as I am now. But the calmness was more terrible than open
+wrath. It was the sure indication of deep-rooted, deliberate revenge. I
+wrote a letter to my father, explaining every thing, and then saddling
+my horse, I turned his head towards old Howard's cottage, and rode like
+the lightning.
+
+“The old man was sitting in his shirt sleeves, in the porch. He saw me
+approach, and in his loud, hearty voice, which fell like fiendish
+mockery upon my ear, he cried out, 'Hallo, Arthur, my boy, come to say
+good-bye to your sweetheart again, hey! Well, that's right. You couldn't
+part like loveyers before the stranger and the old folks. Shall I call
+my little Molly down?”
+
+“'Old man,' I said, in a hollow, sepulchral voice, 'you have no
+daughter'—and throwing myself from my horse, I rushed into the house.
+
+“I will not attempt to describe the scene which followed. How the old
+man rushed to her room, and the truth flashed upon his mind that she had
+fled with her guilty lover. How he threw himself upon the bed of his
+lost and ruined daughter, and a stranger before to tears, now wept
+aloud. And how he prayed with the fervor of one who prays for the
+salvation of a soul, that God would strike with the lightning of his
+wrath the destroyer of his peace, the betrayer of his daughter's virtue.
+Had Edward Hansford witnessed that scene, he had been punished enough
+even for his guilt.
+
+“Well, he deserted the trusting girl, and she returned to her now
+darkened home; but, alas, how changed! When her child was born, the
+innocent offspring of her guilt, in the care attending its nurture, the
+violent grief of the mother gave way to a calm and settled melancholy.
+All saw that the iron had entered her soul. Her old father died,
+blessing and forgiving her, and with touching regard for his memory, she
+refused to desecrate his pure name, by permitting the child of shame to
+bear it. She called it after a distant relation, who never heard of the
+dishonour thus attached to his name. A heart so pure as was the heart of
+Mary Howard, could not long bear up beneath this load of shame. She
+lingered about five years after the birth of her boy, and on her dying
+bed confided the child to me. There in that sacred hour, I vowed to rear
+and protect the little innocent, and by God's permission I have kept
+that vow.”
+
+“Oh, tell me, tell me,” said Bernard, wildly, “am I that child of guilt
+and shame.”
+
+“Alas! Alfred, my son, you are,” said the preacher, “but oh, you know
+not all the terrible vengeance which a mysterious heaven will this day
+visit on the children of your father.”
+
+As the awful truth gradually dawned upon him, Bernard cried with deep
+emotion.
+
+“And Edward Hansford! tell me what became of him?”
+
+“With the most diligent search I could hear nothing of him for years. At
+length I learned that he had come to Virginia, married a young lady of
+some fortune and family, and had at last been killed in a skirmish with
+the Indians, leaving an only son, an infant in arms, the only remaining
+comfort of his widowed mother.”
+
+“And that son,” cried Bernard, the perspiration bursting from his brow
+in the agony of the moment.
+
+“Is Thomas Hansford, who, I fear, this day meets his fate by a brother's
+and a rival's hand.”
+
+“I demand your proof,” almost shrieked the agitated fratricide.
+
+“The name first excited my suspicion,” returned Hutchinson, “and made me
+warn you from crossing his path, when I saw you the night of the ball at
+Jamestown. But confirmation was not wanting, for when this morning I
+visited his cell to administer the last consolations of religion to him,
+I saw him gazing upon the features in miniature of that very Edward, who
+was the author of Mary Howard's wrongs.”
+
+With a wild spring, Alfred Bernard bounded through the door, and as he
+rushed into the street, he heard the melancholy voice of the preacher,
+as he cried, “Too late, too late.”
+
+Regardless of that cry, the miserable fratricide rushed madly along the
+path which led to the place of execution, where the Governor and his
+staff in accordance with the custom of the times had assembled to
+witness the death of a traitor. The slow procession with the rude sledge
+on which the condemned man was dragged, was still seen in the distance,
+and the deep hollow sound of the muffled drum, told him too plainly that
+the brief space of time which remained, was drawing rapidly to a close.
+On, on, he sped, pushing aside the surprised populace who were
+themselves hastening to the gallows, to indulge the morbid passion to
+see the death and sufferings of a fellow man. The road seemed
+lengthening as he went, but urged forward by desperation, regardless of
+fatigue, he still ran swiftly toward the spot. He came to an angle of
+the road, where for a moment he lost sight of the gloomy spectacle, and
+in that moment he suffered the pangs of unutterable woe. Still the
+muffled drum, in its solemn tones assured him that there was yet a
+chance. But as he strained his eyes once more towards the fatal spot,
+the sound of merry music and the wild shouts of the populace fell like
+horrid mockery on his ear, for it announced that all was over.
+
+“Too late, too late,” he shrieked, in horror, as he fell prostrate and
+lifeless on the ground.
+
+And above that dense crowd, unheeding the wild shout of gratified
+vengeance that went up to heaven in that fearful moment, the soul of the
+generous and patriotic Hansford soared gladly on high with the spirits
+of the just, in the full enjoyment of perfect freedom.
+
+<tb>
+
+Reader my tale is done! The spirits I have raised abandon me, and as
+their shadows pass slowly and silently away, the scenes that we have
+recounted seem like the fading phantoms of a dream.
+
+Yet has custom made it a duty to give some brief account of those who
+have played their parts in this our little drama. In the present case,
+the intelligent reader, familiar with the history of Virginia, will
+require our services but little.
+
+History has relieved us of the duty of describing how bravely Thomas
+Hansford met his early fate, and how by his purity of life, and his
+calmness in death, he illustrated the noble sentiment of Corneile, that
+the crime and not the gallows constitutes the shame.
+
+History has told how William Berkeley, worn out by care and age, yielded
+his high functions to a milder sway, and returned to England to receive
+the reward of his rigour in his master's smile; and how that Charles
+Stuart, who with all his faults was not a cruel man, repulsed the stern
+old loyalist with a frown, and made his few remaining days dark and
+bitter.
+
+History has recorded the tender love of Berkeley for his wife, who long
+mourned his death, and at length dried her widowed tears on the warm and
+generous bosom of Philip Ludwell.
+
+And lastly, history has recorded how the masculine nature of Sarah
+Drummond, broken down with affliction and with poverty, knelt at the
+throne of her king to receive from his justice the broad lands of her
+husband, which had been confiscated by the uncompromising vengeance of
+Sir William Berkeley.
+
+Arthur Hutchinson, the victim of the treachery of his early friends,
+returned to England, and deprived of the sympathy of all, and of the
+companionship of Bernard, whose society had become essential to his
+happiness, pined away in obscurity, and died of a broken heart.
+
+Alfred Bernard, the treacherous friend, the heartless lover, the
+remorseful fratricide, could no longer raise his eyes to the betrothed
+mistress of his brother. He returned, with his patron, Sir William
+Berkeley, to his native land; and in the retirement of the old man's
+desolate home, he led a few years of deep remorse. Upon the death of his
+patron, his active spirit became impatient of the seclusion in which he
+had been buried, and true to his religion, if to naught else, he
+engaged in one of the popish plots, so common in the reign of Charles
+the Second, and at last met a rebel's fate.
+
+Colonel and Mrs. Temple, lived long and happily in each other's love;
+administering to the comfort of their bereaved child, and mutually
+sustaining each other, as they descended the hill of life, until they
+“slept peacefully together at its foot.” The events of the Rebellion,
+having been consecrated by being consigned to the glorious _past_,
+furnished a constant theme to the old lady—and late in life she was
+heard to say, that you could never meet now-a-days, such loyalty as then
+prevailed, nor among the rising generation of powdered fops, and
+flippant damsels, could you find such faithful hearts as Hansford's and
+Virginia's.
+
+And Virginia Temple, the gentle and trusting Virginia, was not entirely
+unhappy. The first agony of despair subsided into a gentle melancholy.
+Content in the performance of the quiet duties allotted to her, she
+could look back with calmness and even with a melancholy pleasure to the
+bright dream of her earlier days. She learned to kiss the rod which had
+smitten her, and which blossomed with blessings—and purified by
+affliction, her gentle nature became ripened for the sweet reunion with
+her Hansford, to which she looked forward with patient hope. The human
+heart, like the waters of Bethesda, needs often to be troubled to yield
+its true qualities of health and sweetness. Thus was it with Virginia,
+and in a peaceful resignation to her Father's will, she lived and passed
+away, moving through the world, like the wind of the sweet South,
+receiving and bestowing blessings.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+ +----------------------------------------------------------------+
+ | Tanscriber's Notes:                                            |
+ | Left inconsistent use of punctuation.                          |
+ | Page 19: Changed Virgnia to Virginia.                          |
+ | Page 210: Changed wantlng to wanting.                          |
+ | Page 228: Changed afaid to afraid.                             |
+ | Page 233: Changed Britian to Britain.                          |
+ | Page 242: Changed beseiged to besieged.                        |
+ | Page 246: Left quote as: It is the cry of women, good, my lord |
+ | Page 278: Changed tinings to tidings.                          |
+ | Page 281: Changed requium to requiem.                          |
+ | Page 351: Changed pefidious to perfidious                      |
+ +----------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion, by 
+St. George Tucker
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion, by 
+St. George Tucker
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion
+
+Author: St. George Tucker
+
+Release Date: April 3, 2010 [EBook #31866]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BACON'S REBELLION ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Curtis Weyant, Joseph R. Hauser and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+ +--------------------------------------------------------------------+
+ | Transcriber's Note:                                                |
+ | This text uses UTF-8 (unicode) file encoding. If the apostrophes   |
+ | and quotation marks in this paragraph appear as garbage, you may   |
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+ |                                                                    |
+ +--------------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+Hansford:
+
+A TALE OF BACON'S REBELLION.
+
+
+
+
+BY ST. GEORGE TUCKER.
+
+
+
+
+    Rebellion! foul dishonouring word--
+      Whose wrongful blight so oft has stained
+    The holiest cause that, tongue or sword
+      Of mortal ever lost or gained.
+    How many a spirit, born to bless,
+      Hath sank beneath that withering name;
+    Whom but a day's, an hour's success,
+      Had wafted to eternal fame!
+                                      MOORE.
+
+
+
+
+RICHMOND, VA.:
+PUBLISHED BY GEORGE M. WEST
+BOSTON: PHILLIPS, SAMPSON & CO.
+1857.
+
+
+
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857,
+BY GEORGE M. WEST,
+In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Virginia.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+It is the design of the author, in the following pages, to illustrate
+the period of our colonial history, to which the story relates, and to
+show that this early struggle for freedom was the morning harbinger of
+that blessed light, which has since shone more and more unto the perfect
+day.
+
+Most of the characters introduced have their existence in real
+history--Hansford lived, acted and died in the manner here narrated, and
+a heart as pure and true as Virginia Temple's mourned his early doom.
+
+In one of those quaint old tracts, which the indefatigable antiquary,
+Peter Force, has rescued from oblivion, it is stated that Thomas
+Hansford, although a son of Mars, did sometimes worship at the shrine of
+Venus. It was his unwillingness to separate forever from the object of
+his love that led to his arrest, while lurking near her residence in
+Gloucester. From the meagre materials furnished by history of the
+celebrated rebellion of Nathaniel Bacon the following story has been
+woven.
+
+It were an object to be desired, both to author and to reader, that the
+fate of Thomas Hansford had been different. This could not be but by a
+direct violation of history. Yet the lesson taught in this simple story,
+it is hoped, is not without its uses to humanity. Though vice may
+triumph for a season, and virtue fail to meet its appropriate reward,
+yet nothing can confer on the first, nor snatch from the last, that
+substantial happiness which is ever afforded to the mind conscious of
+rectitude. The self-conviction which stings the vicious mind would make
+a diadem a crown of thorns. The _mens sibi conscia recti_ can make a
+gallows as triumphant as a throne. Such is the moral which the author
+designs to convey. If a darker punishment awaits the guilty, or a purer
+reward is in reserve for the virtuous, we must look for them to that
+righteous Judge, whose hand wields at once the sceptre of mercy and the
+sword of justice.
+
+And now having prepared this brief preface, to stand like a portico
+before his simple edifice, the author would cordially and respectfully
+make his bow, and invite his guests to enter. If his little volume is
+read, he will be amply repaid; if approved, he will be richly rewarded.
+
+
+
+
+HANSFORD.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1.
+
+    "The rose of England bloomed on Gertrude's cheek;
+    What though these shades had seen her birth? Her sire
+    A Briton's independence taught to seek
+    Far western worlds."
+                        _Gertrude of Wyoming._
+
+
+Among those who had been driven, by the disturbances in England, to seek
+a more quiet home in the wilds of Virginia, was a gentleman of the name
+of Temple. An Englishman by birth, he was an unwilling spectator of the
+revolution which erected the dynasty of Cromwell upon the ruins of the
+British monarchy. He had never been able to divest his mind of that
+loyal veneration in which Charles Stuart was held by so many of his
+subjects, whose better judgments, if consulted, would have prompted them
+to unite with the revolutionists. But it was a strong principle with
+that noble party, who have borne in history the distinguished name of
+Cavaliers, rarely to consult the dictates of reason in questions of
+ancient prejudice. They preferred rather to err blindly with the long
+line of their loyal forbears in submission to tyranny, than to subvert
+the ancient principles of government in the attainment of freedom. They
+saw no difference between the knife of the surgeon and the sword of the
+destroyer--between the wholesome medicine, administered to heal, and the
+deadly poison, given to destroy.
+
+Nor are these strong prejudices without their value in the
+administration of government, while they are absolutely essential to the
+guidance of a revolution. They retard and moderate those excesses which
+they cannot entirely control, and even though unable to avoid the
+_descensus Averni_, they render that easy descent less fatal and
+destructive. Nor is there anything in the history of revolutions more
+beautiful than this steady adherence to ancient principles--this
+faithful devotion to a fallen prince, when all others have forsaken him
+and fled. While man is capable of enjoying the blessings of freedom, the
+memory of Hampden will be cherished and revered; and yet there is
+something scarcely less attractive in the disinterested loyalty, the
+generous self-denial, of the devoted Hyde, who left the comforts of
+home, the pride of country and the allurements of fame, to join in the
+lonely wanderings of the banished Stuart.
+
+When at last the revolution was accomplished, and Charles and the hopes
+of the Stuarts seemed to sleep in the same bloody grave, Colonel Temple,
+unwilling longer to remain under the government of a usurper, left
+England for Virginia, to enjoy in the quiet retirement of this infant
+colony, the peace and tranquillity which was denied him at home. From
+this, the last resting place of the standard of loyalty, he watched the
+indications of returning peace, and with a proud and grateful heart he
+hailed the advent of the restoration. For many years an influential
+member of the House of Burgesses, he at last retired from the busy
+scenes of political life to his estate in Gloucester, which, with a
+touching veneration for the past, he called Windsor Hall. Here, happy in
+the retrospection of a well spent life, and cheered and animated by the
+affection of a devoted wife and lovely daughter, the old Loyalist looked
+forward with a tranquil heart to the change which his increasing years
+warned him could not be far distant.
+
+His wife, a notable dame of the olden time, who was selected, like the
+wife of the good vicar, for the qualities which wear best, was one of
+those thrifty, bountiful bodies, who care but little for the government
+under which they live, so long as their larders are well stored with
+provisions, and those around them are happy and contented. Possessed of
+a good mind, and of a kind heart, she devoted herself to the true
+objects of a woman's life, and reigned supreme at home. Even when her
+husband had been immersed in the cares and stirring events of the
+revolution, and she was forced to hear the many causes of complaint
+urged against the government and stoutly combatted by the Colonel, the
+good dame had felt far more interest in market money than in ship
+money--in the neatness of her own chamber, than in the purity of the
+Star Chamber--and, in short, forgot the great principles of political
+economy in her love for the more practical science of domestic economy.
+We have said that at home Mrs. Temple reigned supreme, and so indeed she
+did. Although the good Colonel held the reins, she showed him the way to
+go, and though he was the nominal ruler of his little household, she was
+the power behind the throne, which even the throne submissively
+acknowledged to be greater than itself.
+
+Yet, for all this, Mrs. Temple was an excellent woman, and devoted to
+her husband's interests. Perhaps it was but natural that, although with
+a willing heart, and without a murmur, she had accompanied him to
+Virginia, she should, with a laudable desire to impress him with her
+real worth, advert more frequently than was agreeable to the heavy
+sacrifice which she had made. Nay more, we have but little doubt that
+the bustle and self-annoyance, the flurry and bluster, which always
+attended her domestic preparations, were considered as a requisite
+condiment to give relish to her food. We are at least certain of this,
+that her frequent strictures on the dress, and criticisms on the manners
+of her husband, arose from her real pride, and from her desire that to
+the world he should appear the noble perfection which he was to her.
+This the good Colonel fully understood, and though sometimes chafed by
+her incessant taunts, he knew her real worth, and had long since learned
+to wear his fetters as an ornament.
+
+Since their arrival in Virginia, Heaven had blessed the happy pair with
+a lovely daughter--a bliss for which they long had hoped and prayed, but
+hoped and prayed in vain. If hope deferred, however, maketh the heart
+sick, it loses none of its freshness and delight when it is at last
+realized, and the fond hearts of her parents were overflowing with love
+for this their only child. At the time at which our story commences,
+Virginia Temple (she was called after the fair young colony which gave
+her birth) had just completed her nineteenth year. Reared for the most
+part in the retirement of the country, she was probably not possessed of
+those artificial manners, which disguise rather than adorn the gay
+butterflies that flutter in the fashionable world, and which passes for
+refinement; but such conventional proprieties no more resemble the
+innate refinement of soul which nature alone can impart, than the
+plastered rouge of an old faded dowager resembles the native rose which
+blushes on a healthful maiden's cheek. There was in lieu of all this, in
+the character of Virginia Temple, a freshness of feeling and artless
+frankness, and withal a refined delicacy of sentiment and expression,
+which made the fair young girl the pride and the ornament of the little
+circle in which she moved.
+
+Under the kind tuition of her father, who, in his retired life,
+delighted to train her mind in wholesome knowledge, she possessed a
+great advantage over the large majority of her sex, whose education, at
+that early period, was wofully deficient. Some there were indeed (and in
+this respect the world has not changed much in the last two centuries),
+who were tempted to sneer at accomplishments superior to their own, and
+to hint that a book-worm and a bluestocking would never make a useful
+wife. But such envious insinuations were overcome by the care of her
+judicious mother, who spared no pains to rear her as a useful as well as
+an accomplished woman. With such a fortunate education, Virginia grew up
+intelligent, useful and beloved; and her good old father used often to
+say, in his bland, gentle manner, that he knew not whether his little
+Jeanie was more attractive when, with her favorite authors, she stored
+her mind with refined and noble sentiments, or when, in her little check
+apron and plain gingham dress, she assisted her busy mother in the
+preparation of pickles and preserves.
+
+There was another source of happiness to the fair Virginia, in which she
+will be more apt to secure the sympathy of our gentler readers. Among
+the numerous suitors who sought her hand, was one who had early gained
+her heart, and with none of the cruel crosses, as yet, which the young
+and inexperienced think add piquancy to the bliss of love; with the full
+consent of her parents, she had candidly acknowledged her preference,
+and plighted her troth, with all the sincerity of her young heart, to
+the noble, the generous, the brave Thomas Hansford.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+    "Heaven forming each on other to depend,
+    A master, or a servant, or a friend,
+    Bids each on other for assistance call,
+    Till one man's weakness grows the strength of all.
+    Wants, frailties, passions, closer still ally
+    The common interest, or endear the tie.
+    To these we owe true friendship, love sincere,
+    Each homefelt joy that life inherits here."
+                                            _Essay on Man._
+
+
+Begirt with love and blessed with contentment, the little family at
+Windsor Hall led a life of quiet, unobtrusive happiness. In truth, if
+there be a combination of circumstances peculiarly propitious to
+happiness, it will be found to cluster around one of those old colonial
+plantations, which formed each within itself a little independent
+barony. There first was the proprietor, the feudal lord, proud of his
+Anglo-Saxon blood, whose ambition was power and personal freedom, and
+whose highest idea of wealth was in the possession of the soil he
+cultivated. A proud feeling was it, truly, to claim a portion of God's
+earth as his own; to stand upon his own land, and looking around, see
+his broad acres bounded only by the blue horizon walls,[1] and feel in
+its full force the whole truth of the old law maxim, that he owned not
+only the surface of the soil, but even to the centre of the earth, and
+the zenith of the heavens.[2] There can be but little doubt that the
+feelings suggested by such reflections are in the highest degree
+favorable to the development of individual freedom, so peculiar to the
+Anglo-Saxon race, and so stoutly maintained, especially among an
+agricultural people. This respect for the ownership of land is
+illustrated by the earliest legislation, which held sacred the title to
+the soil even from the grasp of the law, and which often restrained the
+freeholder from alienating his land from the lordly but unborn
+aristocrat to whom it should descend.
+
+Next in the scale of importance in this little baronial society, were
+the indented servants, who, either for felony or treason, were sent over
+to the colony, and bound for a term of years to some one of the
+planters. In some cases, too, the poverty of the emigrant induced him to
+submit voluntarily to indentures with the captain of the ship which
+brought him to the colony, as some compensation for his passage. These
+servants, we learn, had certain privileges accorded to them, which were
+not enjoyed by the slave: the service of the former was only temporary,
+and after the expiration of their term they became free citizens of the
+colony. The female servants, too, were limited in their duties to such
+employments as are generally assigned to women, such as cooking, washing
+and housework; while it was not unusual to see the negro women, as even
+now, in many portions of the State, managing the plough, hoeing the
+maize, worming and stripping the tobacco, and harvesting the grain. The
+colonists had long remonstrated against the system of indented servants,
+and denounced the policy which thus foisted upon an infant colony the
+felons and the refuse population of the mother country. But, as was too
+often the case, their petitions and remonstrances were treated with
+neglect, or spurned with contempt. Besides being distasteful to them as
+freemen and Cavaliers, the indented servants had already evinced a
+restlessness under restraint, which made them dangerous members of the
+body politic. In 1662, a servile insurrection was secretly organized,
+which had well nigh proved fatal to the colony. The conspiracy was
+however betrayed by a certain John Berkenhead, one of the leaders in the
+movement, who was incited to the revelation by the hope of reward for
+his treachery; nor was the hope vain. Grateful for their deliverance,
+the Assembly voted this man his liberty, compensated his master for the
+loss of his services, and still further rewarded him by a bounty of five
+thousand pounds of tobacco. Of this reckless and abandoned wretch, we
+will have much to say hereafter.
+
+Another feature in this patriarchal system of government was the right
+of property in those inferior races of men, who from their nature are
+incapable of a high degree of liberty, and find their greatest
+development, and their truest happiness, in a condition of servitude.
+Liberty is at last a reward to be attained after a long struggle, and
+not the inherent right of every man. It is the sword which becomes a
+weapon of power and defence in the hands of the strong, brave, rational
+man, but a dangerous plaything when entrusted to the hands of madmen or
+children. And thus, by the mysterious government of Him, who rules the
+earth in righteousness, has it been wisely ordained, that they only who
+are worthy of freedom shall permanently possess it.
+
+The mutual relations established by the institution of domestic slavery
+were beneficial to both parties concerned. The Anglo-Saxon baron
+possessed power, which he has ever craved, and concentration and unity
+of will, which was essential to its maintenance. But that power was
+tempered, and that will controlled, by the powerful motives of policy,
+as well as by the dictates of justice and mercy. The African serf, on
+the other hand, was reduced to slavery, which, from his very nature, he
+is incapable of despising; and an implicit obedience to the will of his
+master was essential to the preservation of the relation. But he, too,
+derived benefits from the institution, which he has never acquired in
+any other condition; and trusting to the justice, and relying on the
+power of his master to provide for his wants, he lived a contented and
+therefore a happy life. Improvident himself by nature, his children were
+reared without his care, through the helpless period of infancy, while
+he was soothed and cheered in the hours of sickness, and protected and
+supported in his declining years. The history of the world does not
+furnish another example of a laboring class who could rely with
+confidence on such wages as competency and contentment.
+
+In a new colony, where there was but little attraction as yet, for
+tradesmen to emigrate, the home of the planter became still more
+isolated and independent. Every landholder had not only the slaves to
+cultivate his soil and to attend to his immediate wants, but he had also
+slaves educated and skilled in various trades. Thus, in this busy hive,
+the blaze of the forge was seen and the sound of the anvil was heard, in
+repairing the different tools and utensils of the farm; the shoemaker
+was found at his last, the spinster at her wheel, and the weaver at the
+loom. Nor has this system of independent reliance on a plantation for
+its own supplies been entirely superseded at the present day. There may
+still be found, in some sections of Virginia, plantations conducted on
+this principle, where the fleece is sheared, and the wool is carded,
+spun, woven and made into clothing by domestic labor, and where a few
+groceries and finer fabrics of clothing are all that are required, by
+the independent planter, from the busy world beyond his little domain.
+
+Numerous as were the duties and responsibilities that devolved upon the
+planter, he met them with cheerfulness and discharged them with
+faithfulness. The dignity of the master was blended with the kind
+attention of the friend on the one hand, and the obedience of the slave,
+with the fidelity of a grateful dependent, on the other. And thus was
+illustrated, in their true beauty, the blessings of that much abused
+but happy institution, which should ever remain, as it has ever been
+placed by the commentators of our law, next in position, as it is in
+interest, to the tender relation of parent and child.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] The immense grants taken up by early patentees, in this country,
+justifies this language, which might otherwise seem an extravagant
+hyperbole.
+
+[2] _Cujus est solum, ejus est usque ad coelum._
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+    "An old worshipful gentleman, who had a great estate,
+    That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate,--
+      With an old lady whose anger one word assuages,--
+              Like an old courtier of the queen's,
+              And the queen's old courtier."
+                                          _Old Ballad._
+
+
+A pleasant home was that old Windsor Hall, with its broad fields in
+cultivation around it, and the dense virgin forest screening it from
+distant view, with the carefully shaven sward on the velvet lawn in
+front, and the tall forest poplars standing like sentries in front of
+the house, and the venerable old oak tree at the side, with the rural
+wooden bench beneath it, where Hansford and Virginia used to sit and
+dream of future happiness, while the tame birds were singing sweetly to
+their mates in the green branches above them. And the house, too, with
+its quaint old frame, its narrow windows, and its substantial furniture,
+all brought from England and put down here in this new land for the
+comfort of the loyal old colonist. It had been there for years, that old
+house, and the moss and lichen had fastened on its shelving roof, and
+the luxuriant vine had been trained to clamber closely by its sides,
+exposing its red trumpet flowers to the sun; while the gay humming-bird,
+with her pretty dress of green and gold, sucked their honey with her
+long bill, and fluttered her little wings in the mild air so swiftly
+that you could scarcely see them. Then there was that rude but
+comfortable old porch, destined to as many uses as the chest of drawers
+in the tavern of the Deserted Village. Protected by its sheltering roof
+alike from rain and sunshine, it was often used, in the mild summer
+weather, as a favorite sitting-room, and sometimes, too, converted into
+a dining-room. There, too, might be seen, suspended from the nails and
+wooden pegs driven into the locust pillars, long specimen ears of corn,
+samples of grain, and different garden seeds tied up in little linen
+bags; and in the strange medley, Mrs. Temple had hung some long strings
+of red pepper-pods, sovereign specifics in cases of sore throat, but
+which seemed, among so many objects of greater interest, to blush with
+shame at their own inferiority. It was not yet the season when the broad
+tobacco leaf, brown with the fire of curing, was exhibited, and formed
+the chief staple of conversation, as well as of trade, with the old
+crony planters. The wonderful plant was just beginning to suffer from
+the encroaches of the worm, the only animal, save man, which is
+life-proof against the deadly nicotine of this cultivated poison.
+
+In this old porch the little family was gathered on a beautiful evening
+towards the close of June, in the year 1676. The sun, not yet set, was
+just sinking below the tall forest, and was dancing and flickering
+gleefully among the trees, as if rejoicing that he had nearly finished
+his long day's journey. Colonel Temple had just returned from his
+evening survey of his broad fields of tobacco, and was quietly smoking
+his pipe, for, like most of his fellow colonists, he was an inveterate
+consumer of this home production. His good wife was engaged in knitting,
+an occupation now almost fallen into disuse among ladies, but then a
+very essential part of the duties of a large plantation. Virginia, with
+her tambour frame before her, but which she had neglected in the reverie
+of her own thoughts, was caressing the noble St. Bernard dog which lay
+at her feet, who returned her caresses by a grateful whine, as he licked
+the small white hand of his mistress. This dog, a fine specimen of that
+noble breed, was a present from Hansford, and for that reason, as well
+as for his intrinsic merits, was highly prized, and became her constant
+companion in her woodland rambles in search of health and wild flowers.
+With all the vanity of a conscious favorite, Nestor regarded with well
+bred contempt the hounds that stalked in couples about the yard, in
+anxious readiness for the next chase.
+
+As the young girl was thus engaged, there was an air of sadness in her
+whole mien--such a stranger to her usually bright, happy face, that it
+did not escape her father's notice.
+
+"Why, Jeanie," he said, in the tender manner which he always used
+towards her, "you are strangely silent this evening. Has anything gone
+wrong with my little daughter?"
+
+"No, father," she replied, "at least nothing that I am conscious of. We
+cannot be always gay or sad at our pleasure, you know."
+
+"Nay, but at least," said the old gentleman, "Nestor has been
+disobedient, or old Giles is sick, or you have been working yourself
+into a sentimental sadness over Lady Willoughby's[3] troubles."
+
+"No, dear father; though, in reality, that melancholy story might well
+move a stouter heart than mine."
+
+"Well, confess then," said her father, "that, like the young French
+gentleman in Prince Arthur's days, you are sad as night only for
+wantonness. But what say you, mother, has anything gone wrong in
+household affairs to cross Virginia?"
+
+"No, Mr. Temple," said the old lady. "Certainly, if Virginia is cast
+down at the little she has to do, I don't know what ought to become of
+me. But that's a matter of little consequence. Old people have had their
+day, and needn't expect much sympathy."
+
+"Indeed, dear mother," said Virginia, "I do not complain of anything
+that I have to do. I know that you do not entrust as much to me as you
+ought, or as I wish. I assure you, that if anything has made me sad, it
+is not you, dear mother," she added, as she tenderly kissed her mother.
+
+"Oh, I know that, my dear; but your father seems to delight in always
+charging me with whatever goes wrong. Goodness knows, I toil from Monday
+morning till Saturday night for you all, and this is all the thanks I
+get. And if I were to work my old fingers to the bone, it would be all
+the same. Well, it won't last always."
+
+To this assault Colonel Temple knew the best plan was not to reply. He
+had learned from sad experience the truth of the old adages, that
+"breath makes fire hotter," and that "the least said is soonest mended."
+He only signified his consciousness of what had been said by a quiet
+shrug of the shoulders, and then resumed his conversation with Virginia.
+
+"Well then, my dear, I am at a loss to conjecture the cause of your
+sadness, and must throw myself upon your indulgence to tell me or not,
+as you will. I don't think you ever lost anything by confiding in your
+old father."
+
+"I know I never did," said Virginia, with a gentle sigh, "and it is for
+the very reason that you always make my foolish little sorrows your own,
+that I am unwilling to trouble you with them. But really, on the present
+occasion--I scarcely know what to tell you."
+
+"Then why that big pearl in your eye?" returned her father. "Ah, you
+little rogue, I have found you out at last. Mother, I have guessed the
+riddle. Somebody has not been here as often lately as he should. Now
+confess, you silly girl, that I have guessed your secret."
+
+The big tears that swam in his daughter's blue eyes, and then rolling
+down, dried themselves upon her cheek, told the truth too plainly to
+justify denial.
+
+"I really think Virginia has some reason to complain," said her mother.
+"It is now nearly three weeks since Mr. Hansford was here. A young
+lawyer's business don't keep him so much employed as to prevent these
+little courteous attentions."
+
+"We used to be more attentive in our day, didn't we, old lady?" said
+Colonel Temple, as he kissed his good wife's cheek.
+
+This little demonstration entirely wiped away the remembrance of her
+displeasure. She returned the salutation with an affectionate smile, as
+she replied,
+
+"Yes, indeed, Henry; if there was less sentiment, there was more real
+affection in those days. Love was more in the heart then, and less out
+of books, than now."
+
+"Oh, but we were not without our little sentiments, too. Virginia, it
+would have done you good to have seen how gaily your mother danced round
+the May-pole, with her courtly train, as the fair queen of them all; and
+how I, all ruffs and velvet, at the head of the boys, and on bended
+knee, begged her majesty to accept the homage of our loyal hearts. Don't
+you remember, Bessy, the grand parliament, when we voted you eight
+subsidies, and four fifteenths to be paid in flowers and candy, for your
+grand coronation?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" said the old lady; "and then the coronation itself, with the
+throne made of the old master's desk, all nicely carpeted and decorated
+with flowers and evergreen; and poor Billy Newton, with his long, solemn
+face, a paste-board mitre, and his sister's night-gown for a pontifical
+robe, acting the Archbishop of Canterbury, and placing the crown upon my
+head!"
+
+"And the game of Barley-break in the evening," said the Colonel, fairly
+carried away by the recollections of these old scenes, "when you and I,
+hand in hand, pretended only to catch the rest, and preferred to remain
+together thus, in what we called the hell, because we felt that it was a
+heaven to us."[4]
+
+"Oh, fie, for shame!" said the old lady. "Ah, well, they don't have such
+times now-a-days."
+
+"No, indeed," said her husband; "old Noll came with his nasal twang and
+puritanical cant, and dethroned May-queens as well as royal kings, and
+his amusements were only varied by a change from a hypocritical sermon
+to a psalm-singing conventicle."
+
+Thus the old folks chatted on merrily, telling old stories, which,
+although Virginia had heard them a hundred times and knew them all by
+heart, she loved to hear again. She had almost forgotten her own sadness
+in this occupation of her mind, when her father said--
+
+"But, Bessy, we had almost forgotten, in our recollections of the past,
+that our little Jeanie needs cheering up. You should remember, my
+daughter, that if there were any serious cause for Mr. Hansford's
+absence, he would have written to you. Some trivial circumstance, or
+some matter of business, has detained him from day to day. He will be
+here to-morrow, I have no doubt."
+
+"I know I ought not to feel anxious," said Virginia, her lip quivering
+with emotion; "he has so much to do, not only in his profession, but his
+poor old mother needs his presence a great deal now; she was far from
+well when he was last here."
+
+"Well, I respect him for that," said her mother. "It is too often the
+case with these young lovers, that when they think of getting married,
+and doing for themselves, the poor old mothers are laid on the shelf."
+
+"And yet," continued Virginia, "I have a kind of presentiment that all
+may not be right with him. I know it is foolish, but I can't--I can't
+help it?"
+
+"These presentiments, my child," said her father, who was not without
+some of the superstition of the time, "although like dreams, often sent
+by the Almighty for wise purposes, are more often but the phantasies of
+the imagination. The mind, when unable to account for circumstances by
+reason, is apt to torment itself with its own fancy--and this is wrong,
+Jeanie."
+
+"I know all this," replied Virginia, "and yet have no power to prevent
+it. But," she added, smiling through her tears, "I will endeavor to be
+more cheerful, and trust for better things."
+
+"That's a good girl; I assure you I would rather hear you laugh once
+than to see you cry a hundred times," said the old man, repeating a
+witticism that Virginia had heard ever since her childish trials and
+tears over broken dolls or tangled hair. The idea was so grotesque and
+absurd, that the sweet girl laughed until she cried again.
+
+"Besides," added her father, "I heard yesterday that that pestilent
+fellow, Bacon, was in arms again, and it may be necessary for Berkeley
+to use some harsh means to punish his insolence. I would not be at all
+surprised if Hansford were engaged in this laudable enterprise."
+
+"God, in his mercy, forbid," said Virginia, in a faint voice.
+
+"And why, my daughter? Would you shrink from lending the services of him
+you love to your country, in her hour of need?"
+
+"But the danger, father!"
+
+"There can be but little danger in an insurrection like this. Strong
+measures will soon suppress it. Nay, the very show of organized and
+determined resistance will strike terror into the white hearts of these
+cowardly knaves. But if this were not so, the duty would be only
+stronger."
+
+"Yes, Virginia," said her mother. "No one knows more than I, how hard it
+is for a woman to sacrifice her selfish love to her country. But in my
+day we never hesitated, and I was happy in my tears, when I saw your
+father going forth to fight for his king and country. There was none of
+your 'God forbid' then, and you need not expect to be more free from
+trials than those who have gone before you."
+
+There was no real unkindness meant in this speech of Mrs. Temple, but,
+as we have before reminded the reader, she took especial delight in
+magnifying her own joys and her own trials, and in making an invidious
+comparison of the present day with her earlier life, always to the
+prejudice of the former. Tenderly devoted to her daughter, and deeply
+sympathizing in her distress, she yet could not forego the pleasure of
+reverting to the time when she too had similar misfortunes, which she
+had borne with such exemplary fortitude. To be sure, this heroism
+existed only in the dear old lady's imagination, for no one gave way to
+trials with more violent grief than she. Virginia, though accustomed to
+her mother's peculiar temper, was yet affected by her language, and her
+tears flowed afresh.
+
+"Cheer up, my daughter," said her father, "these tears are not only
+unworthy of you, but they are uncalled for now. This is at last but
+conjecture of mine, and I have no doubt that Hansford is well and as
+happy as he can be away from you. But you would have proved a sad
+heroine in the revolution. I don't think you would imitate successfully
+the bravery and patriotism of Lady Willoughby, whose memoirs you have
+been reading. Oh! that was a day for heroism, when mothers devoted their
+sons, and wives their husbands, to the cause of England and of loyalty,
+almost without a tear."
+
+"I thank God," said the weeping girl, "that he has not placed me in such
+trying scenes. With all my admiration for the courage of my ancestors, I
+have no ambition to suffer their dangers and distress."
+
+"Well, my dear," replied her father, "I trust you may never be called
+upon to do so. But if such should be your fate, I also trust that you
+have a strong heart, which would bear you through the trial. Come now,
+dry your tears, and let me hear you sing that old favorite of mine,
+written by poor Dick Lovelace. His Lucasta[5] must have been something
+of the same mind as my Virginia, if she reproved him for deserting her
+for honour."
+
+"Oh, father, I feel the justice of your rebuke. I know that none but a
+brave woman deserves the love of a brave man. Will you forgive me?"
+
+"Forgive you, my daughter?--yes, if you have done anything to be
+forgiven. Your old father, though his head is turned gray, has still a
+warm place in his heart for all your distresses, my child; and that
+heart will be cold in death before it ceases to feel for you. But come,
+I must not lose my song, either."
+
+And Virginia, her sweet voice rendered more touchingly beautiful by her
+emotion, sang the noble lines, which have almost atoned for all the
+vanity and foppishness of their unhappy author.
+
+    "Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,
+      If from the nunnery
+    Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind,
+      To war and arms I fly.
+
+    "True, a new mistress now I chase,
+      The first foe in the field,
+    And with a stronger faith embrace
+      The sword, the horse, the shield.
+
+    "Yet, this inconstancy is such
+      As you too shall adore;
+    I had not loved thee, dear, so much,
+      Loved I not honour more!"
+
+"Yes," repeated the old patriot, as the last notes of the sweet voice
+died away; "yes, 'I had not loved thee, dear, so much, loved I not
+honour more!' This is the language of the truly noble lover. Without a
+heart which rises superior to itself, in its devotion to honour, it is
+impossible to love truly. Love is not a pretty child, to be crowned with
+roses, and adorned with trinkets, and wooed by soft music. To the truly
+brave, it is a god to be worshipped, a reward to be attained, and to be
+attained only in the path of honour!"
+
+"I think," said Mrs. Temple, looking towards the wood, "that Virginia's
+song acted as an incantation. If I mistake not, Master Hansford is even
+now coming to explain his own negligence."
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[3] I have taken these beautiful memoirs, now known to be the production
+of a modern pen, to be genuine. Their truthfulness to nature certainly
+will justify me in such a liberty.
+
+[4] The modern reader will need some explanation of this old game, whose
+terms seem, to the refined ears of the present day, a little profane.
+Barley-break resembled a game which I have seen played in my own time,
+called King Cantelope, but with some striking points of difference. In
+the old game, the play-ground was divided into three parts of equal
+size, and the middle of these sections was known by the name of hell.
+The boy and girl, whose position was in this place, were to attempt,
+with joined hands, to catch those who should try to pass from one
+section to the other. As each one was caught, he became a recruit for
+the couple in the middle, and the last couple who remained uncaught took
+the places of those in hell, and thus the game commenced again.
+
+[5] The lady to whom the song is addressed. It may be found in Percy's
+Reliques, or in almost any volume of old English poetry.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+    "Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dressed,
+    Fresh as a bridegroom."
+                                          _Henry IV._
+
+
+In truth a young man, well mounted on a powerful bay, was seen
+approaching from the forest, that lay towards Jamestown. Virginia's
+cheek flushed with pleasure as she thought how soon all her fears would
+vanish away in the presence of her lover--and she laughed confusedly, as
+her father said,
+
+"Aye, come dry your tears, you little rogue--those eyes are not as
+bright as Hansford would like to see. Tears are very pretty in poetry
+and fancy, but when associated with swelled eyes and red noses, they
+lose something of their sentiment."
+
+As the horseman came nearer, however, Virginia found to her great
+disappointment, that the form was not that of Hansford, and with a deep
+sigh she went into the house. The stranger, who now drew up to the door,
+proved to be a young man of about thirty years of age, tall and
+well-proportioned, his figure displaying at once symmetrical beauty and
+athletic strength. He was dressed after the fashion of the day, in a
+handsome velvet doublet, trussed with gay-colored points at the waist to
+the breeches, which reaching only to the knee, left the finely turned
+leg well displayed in the closely-fitting white silk stockings. Around
+his wrists and neck were revealed graceful ruffles of the finest
+cambric. The heavy boots, which were usually worn by cavaliers, were in
+this case supplied by shoes fastened with roses of ribands. A handsome
+sword, with ornamented hilt, and richly chased scabbard, was secured
+gracefully by his side in its fringed hanger. The felt hat, whose wide
+brim was looped up and secured by a gold button in front, completed the
+costume of the young stranger. The abominable fashion of periwigs, which
+maintained its reign over the realm of fashion for nearly a century, was
+just beginning to be introduced into the old country, and had not yet
+been received as orthodox in the colony. The rich chestnut hair of the
+stranger fell in abundance over his fine shoulders, and was parted
+carefully in the middle to display to its full advantage his broad
+intellectual forehead. But in compliance with custom, his hair was
+dressed with the fashionable love-locks, plaited and adorned with
+ribands, and falling foppishly over either ear.
+
+But dress, at last, like "rank, is but the guinea's stamp, the man's the
+gowd for a' that," and in outward appearance at least, the stranger was
+of no alloyed metal. There was in his air that easy repose and
+self-possession which is always perceptible in those whose life has been
+passed in association with the refined and cultivated. But still there
+was something about his whole manner, which seemed to betray the fact,
+that this habitual self-possession, this frank and easy carriage was the
+result of a studied and constant control over his actions, rather than
+those of a free and ingenuous heart.
+
+This idea, however, did not strike the simple minded Virginia, as with
+natural, if not laudable curiosity, she surveyed the handsome young
+stranger through the window of the hall. The kind greeting of the
+hospitable old colonel having been given, the stranger dismounted, and
+the fine bay that he rode was committed to the protecting care of a
+grinning young African in attendance, who with his feet dangling from
+the stirrups trotted him off towards the stable.
+
+"I presume," said the stranger, as they walked towards the house, "that
+from the directions I have received, I have the honor of seeing Colonel
+Temple. It is to the kindness of Sir William Berkeley that I owe the
+pleasure I enjoy in forming your acquaintance, sir," and he handed a
+letter from his excellency, which the reader may take the liberty of
+reading with us, over Colonel Temple's shoulder.
+
+     "Bight trusty old friend," ran the quaint and formal, yet familiar
+     note. "The bearer of these, Mr. Alfred Bernard, a youth of good and
+     right rare merit, but lately from England, and whom by the especial
+     confidence reposed in him from our noble kinsman Lord Berkeley, we
+     have made our private secretary, hath desired acquaintance with
+     some of the established gentlemen in the colony, the better for his
+     own improvement, to have their good society. And in all good faith,
+     there is none, to whom I can more readily commend him, than Colonel
+     Henry Temple, with the more perfect confidence in his desire to
+     oblige him, who is always as of yore, his right good friend,
+
+                                                "WILLIAM BERKELEY, Kn't.
+                  "_From our Palace at Jamestown, June 20, A. D. 1676._"
+
+"It required not this high commendation, my dear sir," said old Temple,
+pressing his guest cordially by the hand, "to bid you welcome to my poor
+roof. But I now feel that to be a special honour, which would otherwise
+be but the natural duty of hospitality. Come, right welcome to Windsor
+Hall."
+
+With these words they entered the house, where Alfred Bernard was
+presented to the ladies, and paid his devoirs with such knightly grace,
+that Virginia admired, and Mrs. Temple heartily approved, a manner and
+bearing, which, she whispered to her daughter, was worthy of the old
+cavalier days before the revolution. Supper was soon announced--not the
+awkward purgatorial meal, perilously poised in cups, and eaten with
+greasy fingers--so dire a foe to comfort and silk dresses--but the
+substantial supper of the olden time. It is far from our intention to
+enter into minute details, yet we cannot refrain from adverting to the
+fact that the good old cavalier grace was said by the Colonel, with as
+much solemnity as his cheerful face would wear--that grace which gave
+such umbrage to the Puritans with their sour visages and long prayers,
+and which consisted of those three expressive words, "God bless us."
+
+"I have always thought," said the Colonel, apologetically, "that this
+was enough--for where's the use of praying over our meals, until they
+get so cold and cheerless, that there is less to be thankful for."
+
+"Especially," said Bernard, chiming in at once with the old man's
+prejudices, "when this brief language contains all that is
+necessary--for even Omnipotence can but bless us--and we may easily
+leave the mode to Him."
+
+"Well said, young man, and now come and partake of our homely fare,
+seasoned with a hearty welcome," said the Colonel, cordially.
+
+Nor loth was Alfred Bernard to do full justice to the ample store before
+him. A ride of more than thirty miles had whetted an appetite naturally
+good, and the youth of "right rare merit," did not impress his kind host
+very strongly with his conversational powers during his hearty meal.
+
+The repast being over, the little party retired to a room, which the old
+planter was pleased to call his study, but which savored far more of the
+presence of the sportive Diana, than of the reflecting muses. Over the
+door, as you entered the room, were fastened the large antlers of some
+noble deer, who had once bounded freely and gracefully through his
+native forest. Those broad branches are now, by a sad fatality, doomed
+to support the well oiled fowling-piece that laid their wearer low.
+Fishing tackle, shot-pouches, fox brushes, and other similar evidences
+and trophies of sport, testified to the Colonel's former delight in
+angling and the chase; but now alas! owing to the growing infirmities of
+age, though he still cherished his pack, and encouraged the sport, he
+could only start the youngsters in the neighborhood, and give them God
+speed! as with horses, hounds, and horns they merrily scampered away in
+the fresh, early morning. But with his love for these active, manly
+sports, Colonel Temple was devoted to reading such works as ran with his
+prejudices, and savored of the most rigid loyalty. His books, indeed,
+were few, for in that day it was no easy matter to procure books at all,
+especially for the colonists, who cut off from the great fountain of
+literature which was then just reviving from the severe drought of
+puritanism, were but sparingly supplied with the means of information.
+But a few months later than the time of which we write, Sir William
+Berkeley boasted that education was at a low ebb in Virginia, and
+thanked his God that so far there were neither free schools nor printing
+presses in the colony--the first instilling and the last disseminating
+rebellious sentiments among the people. Yet under all these
+disadvantages, Colonel Temple was well versed in the literature of the
+last two reigns, and with some of the more popular works of the present.
+Shakspeare was his constant companion, and the spring to which he often
+resorted to draw supplies of wisdom. But Milton was held in especial
+abhorrence--for the prose writings of the eloquent old republican
+condemned unheard the sublime strains of his divine poem.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+    "A man in all the world's new fashion planted,
+    That hath a mint of phrases in his brain;
+    One, whom the music of his own vain tongue,
+    Doth ravish like enchanting harmony;
+    A man of compliments." _Love's Labor Lost._
+
+
+"Well, Mr. Bernard," said the old Colonel as they entered the room,
+"take a seat, and let's have a social chat. We old planters don't get a
+chance often to hear the news from Jamestown, and I am afraid you will
+find me an inquisitive companion. But first join me in a pipe. There is
+no greater stimulant to conversation than the smoke of our Virginia
+weed."
+
+"You must excuse me," said Bernard, smiling, "I have not yet learned to
+smoke, although, if I remain in Virginia, I suppose I will have to
+contract a habit so general here."
+
+"What, not smoke!" said the old man, in surprise. "Why tobacco is at
+once the calmer of sorrows, the assuager of excitement; the companion of
+solitude, the life of company; the quickener of fancy, the composer of
+thought."
+
+"I had expected," returned Bernard, laughing at his host's enthusiasm,
+"that so rigid a loyalist as yourself, would be a convert to King
+James's Counterblast. Have you never read that work of the royal
+pedant?"
+
+"Read it!" cried the Colonel, impetuously. "No! and what's more, with
+all my loyalty and respect for his memory, I would sooner light my pipe
+with a page of his Basilicon, than subscribe to the sentiments of his
+Counterblast."
+
+"Oh, he had his supporters too," replied Bernard, smiling. "You surely
+cannot have forgotten the song of Cucullus in the Lover's Melancholy;"
+and the young man repeated, with mock solemnity, the lines,
+
+    "They that will learn to drink a health in hell,
+    Must learn on earth to take tobacco well,
+    For in hell they drink no wine, nor ale, nor beer,
+    But fire and smoke and stench, as we do here."
+
+"Well put, my young friend," said Temple, laughing in his turn. "But you
+should remember that John Ford had to put such a sentiment in the mouth
+of a Bedlamite. Here, Sandy," he added, kicking a little negro boy, who
+was nodding in the corner, dreaming, perhaps, of the pleasures of the
+next 'possum hunt, "Run to the kitchen, Sandy, and bring me a coal of
+fire."
+
+"And, now, Mr. Bernard, what is the news political and social in the big
+world of Jamestown?"
+
+"Much to interest you in both respects. It is indeed a part of my duty
+in this visit, to request that you and the ladies will be present at a
+grand masque ball to be given on Lady Frances's birth-night."
+
+"A masque in Virginia!" exclaimed the Colonel, "that will be a novelty
+indeed! But the Governor has not the opportunity or the means at hand to
+prepare it."
+
+"Oh, yes!" replied Bernard, "we have all determined to do our best. The
+assembly will be in session, and the good burgesses will aid us, and at
+any rate if we cannot eclipse old England, we must try to make up in
+pleasure, what is wanting in brilliancy. I trust Miss Temple will aid us
+by her presence, which in itself will add both pleasure and brilliancy
+to the occasion."
+
+Virginia blushed slightly at the compliment, and replied--
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Bernard, the presence which you seem to esteem so highly
+depends entirely on my father's permission--but I will unite with you in
+urging that as it is a novelty to me, he will not deny his assent. I
+should like of all things to go."
+
+"Well, my daughter, as you please--but what says mother to the plan? You
+know she is not queen consort only, and she must be consulted."
+
+"I am sure, Colonel Temple," said the good lady, "that I do as much to
+please Virginia as you can. To be sure, a masque in Virginia can afford
+but little pleasure to me, who have seen them in all their glory in
+England, but I have no doubt it will be all well enough for the young
+people, and I am always ready to contribute to their amusement."
+
+"I know that, my dear, and Jeanie can testify to it as well as I. But,
+Mr. Bernard, what is to be the subject of this masque, and who is the
+author, or are we to have a rehash of rare Ben Jonson's Golden Age?"
+
+"It is to be a kind of parody of that, or rather a burlesque;" replied
+Bernard, "and is designed to hail the advent of the Restoration, a theme
+worthy of the genius of a Shakspeare, though, unfortunately, it is now
+in far humbler hands."
+
+"A noble subject, truly," said the Colonel, "and from your deprecating
+air, I have no doubt that we are to be indebted to your pen for its
+production."
+
+"Partly, sir," returned Bernard, with an assumption of modesty. "It is
+the joint work of Mr. Hutchinson, the chaplain of his excellency, and
+myself."
+
+"Oh! Mr. Bernard, are you a poet," cried the old lady in admiration;
+"this is really an honour. Mr. Temple used to write verses when we were
+young, and although they were never printed, they were far prettier than
+a great deal of the lovesick nonsense that they make such a fuss about.
+I was always begging him to publish, but he never would push himself
+forward, like others with not half his merit."
+
+"I do not pretend to any merit, my dear madam," said Bernard, "but I
+trust that with my rigid loyalty, and parson Hutchinson's rigid
+episcopacy, the roundhead puritans will not meet with more favour than
+they deserve. Neither of us have been long enough in the colony to have
+learned from observation the taste of the Virginians, but there is
+abundant evidence on record that they were the last to desert the cause
+of loyalty, and to submit to the sway of the puritan Protector."
+
+"Right, my friend, and she ever will be, or else old Henry Temple will
+seek out some desolate abode untainted with treason wherein to drag out
+the remainder of his days."
+
+"Your loyalty was never more needed," said Bernard; "for Virginia, I
+fear, will yet be the scene of a rebellion, which may be but the brief
+epitome of the revolution."
+
+"Aye, you refer to this Baconian movement. I had heard that the
+demagogue was again in arms. But surely you cannot apprehend any danger
+from such a source."
+
+"Well, I trust not; and yet the harmless worm, if left to grow, may
+acquire fangs. Bacon is eloquent and popular, and has already under his
+standard some of the very flower of the colony. He must be crushed and
+crushed at once; and yet I fear the worst from the clemency and delay of
+Sir William Berkeley."
+
+"Tell me; what is his ground of quarrel?" asked Temple.
+
+"Why, simply that having taken up arms against the Indians without
+authority, and enraging them by his injustice and cruelty, the governor
+required him to disband the force he had raised. He peremptorily
+refused, and demanded a commission from the governor as general-in-chief
+of the forces of Virginia to prosecute this unholy war."
+
+"Why unholy?" asked the Colonel. "Rebellious as was his conduct in
+refusing to lay down his arms at the command of the governor, yet I do
+not see that it should be deemed unholy to chastise the insolence of
+these savages."
+
+"I will tell you, then," replied Bernard. "His avowed design was to
+avenge the murder of a poor herdsman by a chief of the Doeg tribe.
+Instead of visiting his vengeance upon the guilty, he turned his whole
+force against the Susquehannahs, a friendly tribe of Indians, and chased
+them like sheep into one of their forts. Five of the Indians relying on
+the boasted chivalry of the whites, came out of the fort unarmed, to
+inquire the cause of this unprovoked attack. They were answered by a
+charge of musketry, and basely murdered in cold blood."
+
+"Monstrous!" cried Temple, with horror. "Such infidelity will incense
+the whole Indian race against us and involve the country in another
+general war."
+
+"Exactly so," returned Bernard, "and such is the governor's opinion; but
+besides this, it is suspected, and with reason too, that this Indian war
+is merely a pretext on the part of Bacon and a few of his followers, to
+cover a deeper and more criminal design. The insolent demagogue prates
+openly about equal rights, freedom, oppression of the mother country,
+and such dangerous themes, and it is shrewdly thought that, in his wild
+dreams of liberty, he is taking Cromwell for his model. He has all of
+the villainy of the old puritan, and a good deal of his genius and
+ability. But I beg pardon, ladies, all this politics cannot be very
+palatable to a lady's taste. We will certainly expect you, Mrs. Temple,
+to be present at the masque; and if Miss Virginia would prefer not to
+play her part in the exhibition, she may still be there to cheer us with
+her smiles. I can speak for the taste of all gallant young Virginians,
+that they will readily pardon her for not concealing so fair a face
+beneath a mask."
+
+"Ah, I can easily see that you are but lately from England," said Mrs.
+Temple, delighted with the gallantry of the young man. "Your speech,
+fair sir, savours far more of the manners of the court than of these
+untutored forests. Alas! it reminds me of my own young days."
+
+"Well, Mr. Bernard," said the Colonel, interrupting his wife in a
+reminiscence, which bid fair to exhaust no brief time, "you will find
+that we have only transplanted old English manners to another soil.
+
+    "'Coelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt.'"
+
+"I am glad to see," said Bernard, casting an admiring glance at
+Virginia, "that this new soil you speak of, Colonel Temple, is so
+favourably adapted to the growth of the fairest flowers."
+
+"Oh, you must be jesting, Mr. Bernard," said the old lady, "for although
+I am always begging Virginia to pay more attention to the garden, there
+are scarcely any flowers there worth speaking of, except a few roses
+that I planted with my own hands, and a bed of violets."
+
+"You mistake me, my dear madam," returned Bernard, still gazing on
+Virginia with an affectation of rapture, "the roses to which I refer
+bloom on fair young cheeks, and the violets shed their sweetness in the
+depths of those blue eyes."
+
+"Oh, you are at your poetry, are you?" said the old lady.
+
+"Not if poetry extends her sway only over the realm of fiction," said
+Bernard, laying his hand upon his heart.
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Bernard," said Virginia, not displeased at flattery, which
+however gross it may appear to modern ears, was common with young
+cavaliers in former days, and relished by the fair damsels, "I have been
+taught that flowers flourish far better in the cultivated parterre, than
+in the wild woods. I doubt not that, like Orlando, you are but playing
+off upon a stranger the sentiments, which, in reality, you reserve for
+some faithful Rosalind whom you have left in England."
+
+"You now surprise me, indeed," returned Bernard, "for do you know that
+among all the ladies that grace English society, there are but few who
+ever heard of Rosalind or her Orlando, and know as little of the forest
+of Ardennes as of your own wild forests in Virginia."
+
+"I have heard," said the Colonel, "that old Will Shakspeare and his
+cotemporaries--peers he has none--have been thrown aside for more modern
+writers, and I fear that England has gained nothing by the exchange. Who
+is now your prince of song?"
+
+"There is a newly risen wit and poet, John Dryden by name, who seems to
+bear the palm undisputed. Waller is old now, and though he still writes,
+yet he has lost much of his popularity by his former defection from the
+cause of loyalty."
+
+"Well, for my part, give me old wine, old friends and old poets," said
+the Colonel. "I confess I like a bard to be consecrated by the united
+plaudits of two or three generations, before I can give him my ready
+admiration."
+
+"I should think your acquaintance with Horace would have taught you the
+fallacy of that taste," said Bernard. "Do you not remember how the old
+Roman laureate complains of the same prejudice existing in his own day,
+and argues that on such a principle merit could be accorded to no poet,
+for all must have their admirers among cotemporaries, else their works
+would pass into oblivion, before their worth were fairly tested?"
+
+"I cannot be far wrong in the present age at least," said Temple, "from
+what I learn and from what I have myself seen, the literature of the
+present reign is disgraced by the most gross and libertine sentiments.
+As the water of a healthful stream if dammed up, stagnates and becomes
+the fruitful source of unwholesome malaria, and then, when released,
+rushes forward, spreading disease and death in its course, so the
+liberal feelings and manners of old England, restrained by the rigid
+puritanism of the Protectorate, at last burst forth in a torrent of
+disgusting and diseased libertinism."
+
+Bernard had not an opportunity of replying to this elaborate simile of
+the good old Colonel, which, like Fadladeen, he had often used and still
+reserved for great occasions. Further conversation was here interrupted
+by a new arrival, which in this case, much to the satisfaction of the
+fair Virginia, proved to be the genuine Hansford.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+                        "Speak of Mortimer!
+    Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul
+    Want mercy, if I do not join with him."
+                                          _Henry IV._
+
+
+Thomas Hansford, in appearance and demeanour, lost nothing in comparison
+with the accomplished Bernard. He certainly did not possess in so high a
+degree the easy assurance which characterized the young courtier, but
+his self-confidence, blended with a becoming modesty, and his open,
+ingenuous manners, fully compensated for the difference. There was that
+in his clear blue eye and pleasant smile which inspired confidence in
+all whom he approached. Modest and unobtrusive in his expressions of
+opinion, he was nevertheless firm in their maintenance when announced,
+and though deferential to superiors in age and position, and respectful
+to all, he was never servile or obsequious.
+
+The same kind of difference might be traced in the dress of the two
+young men, as in their manners. With none of the ostentatious display,
+which we have described as belonging to the costume of Bernard, the
+attire of Hansford was plain and neat. He was dressed in a grey doublet
+and breeches, trussed with black silk points. His long hose were of
+cotton, and his shoes were fastened, not with the gay colored ribbons
+before described, but with stout leather thongs, such as are still often
+used in the dress of a country gentleman. His beaver was looped with a
+plain black button, in front, displaying his fair hair, which was
+brushed plainly back from his forehead. He, too, wore a sword by his
+side, but it was fastened, not by handsome fringe and sash, but by a
+plain belt around his waist. It seemed as though it were worn more for
+use than ornament. We have been thus particular in describing the dress
+of these two young men, because, as we have hinted, the contrast
+indicated the difference in their characters--a difference which will,
+however, more strikingly appear in the subsequent pages of this
+narrative.
+
+"Well, my boy," said old Temple, heartily, "I am glad to see you; you
+have been a stranger among us lately, but are none the less welcome on
+that account. Yet, faith, lad, there was no necessity for whetting our
+appetite for your company by such a long absence."
+
+"I have been detained on some business of importance," replied Hansford,
+with some constraint in his manner. "I am glad, however, my dear sir,
+that I have not forfeited my welcome by my delay, for no one, I assure
+you, has had more cause to regret my absence than myself."
+
+"Better late than never, my boy," said the Colonel. "Come, here is a new
+acquaintance of ours, to whom I wish to introduce you. Mr. Alfred
+Bernard, Mr. Hansford."
+
+The young men saluted each other respectfully, and Hansford passed on to
+"metal more attractive." Seated once more by the side of his faithful
+Virginia, he forgot the presence of all else, and the two lovers were
+soon deep in conversation, in a low voice.
+
+"I hope your absence was not caused by your mother's increased
+sickness," said Virginia.
+
+"No, dearest, the old lady's health is far better than it has been for
+some time. But I have many things to tell you which will surprise, if
+they do not please you."
+
+"Oh, you have no idea what a fright father gave me this evening," said
+Virginia. "He told me that you had probably been engaged by the governor
+to aid in suppressing this rebellion. I fancied that there were already
+twenty bullets through your body, and made a little fool of myself
+generally. But if I had known that you were staying away from me so long
+without any good reason, I would not have been so silly, I assure you."
+
+"Your care for me, dear girl, is very grateful to my feelings, and
+indeed it makes me very sad to think that I may yet be the cause of so
+much unhappiness to you."
+
+"Oh, come now," said the laughing girl, "don't be sentimental. You men
+think very little of ladies, if you suppose that we are incapable of
+listening to anything but flattery. Now, there's Mr. Bernard has been
+calling me flowers, and roses, and violets, ever since he came. For my
+part, I would rather be loved as a woman, than admired as all the
+flowers that grow in the world."
+
+"Who is this Mr. Bernard?" asked Hansford.
+
+"He is the Governor's private secretary, and a very nice fellow he seems
+to be, too. He has more poetry at his finger's ends than you or I ever
+read, and he is very handsome, don't you think so?"
+
+"It is very well that I did not prolong my absence another day," said
+Hansford, "or else I might have found my place in your heart supplied by
+this foppish young fribble."[6]
+
+"Nay, now, if you are going to be jealous, I will get angry," said
+Virginia, trying to pout her pretty lips. "But say what you will about
+him, he is very smart, and what's more, he writes poetry as well as
+quotes it."
+
+"And has he told you of all his accomplishments so soon?" said Hansford,
+smiling; "for I hardly suppose you have seen a volume of his works,
+unless he brought it here with him. What else can he do? Perhaps he
+plays the flute, and dances divinely; and may-be, but for 'the vile
+guns, he might have been a soldier.' He looks a good deal like Hotspur's
+dandy to my eyes."
+
+"Oh, don't be so ill-natured," said Virginia, "He never would have told
+about his writing poetry, but father guessed it."
+
+"Your father must have infinite penetration then," said Hansford, "for I
+really do not think the young gentleman looks much as though he could
+tear himself from the mirror long enough to use his pen."
+
+"Well, but he has written a masque, to be performed day-after-to-morrow
+night, at the palace, to celebrate Lady Frances' birth-day. Are you not
+going to the ball. Of course you'll be invited."
+
+"No, dearest," said Hansford, with a sigh. "Sir William Berkeley might
+give me a more unwelcome welcome than to a masque."
+
+"What on earth do you mean?" said Virginia, turning pale with alarm.
+"You have not--"
+
+"Nay, you shall know all to-morrow," replied Hansford.
+
+"Tom," cried Colonel Temple, in his loud, merry voice, "stop cooing
+there, and tell me where you have been all this time. I'll swear, boy, I
+thought you had been helping Berkeley to put down that d--d renegade,
+Bacon."
+
+"I am surprised," said Hansford, with a forced, but uneasy smile, "that
+you should suppose the Governor had entrusted an affair of such moment
+to me."
+
+"Zounds, lad," said the Colonel, "I never dreamed that you were at the
+head of the expedition. Oh, the vanity of youth! No, I suppose my good
+friends, Colonel Ludwell and Major Beverley, are entrusted with the
+lead. But I thought a subordinate office--"
+
+"You are mistaken altogether, Colonel," said Hansford. "The business
+which detained me from Windsor Hall had nothing to do with the
+suppression of this rebellion, and indeed I have not been in Jamestown
+for some weeks."
+
+"Well, keep your own counsel then, Tom; but I trust it was at least
+business connected with your profession. I like to see a young lawyer
+give his undivided attention to business. But I doubt me, Tom, that you
+cheat the law out of some of the six hours that Lord Coke has allotted
+to her."
+
+"I have, indeed, been attending to the preparation of a cause of some
+importance," said Hansford.
+
+"Well, I'm glad of it, my boy. Who is your client? I hope he gives you a
+good retainer."
+
+"My fee is chiefly contingent," replied the young lawyer, sorely pressed
+by the questions of the curious old Colonel.
+
+"Why, you are very laconic," returned Temple, trying to enlist him in
+conversation. "Come, tell me all about it. I used to be something of a
+lawyer myself in my youth, didn't I, Bessy?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," said his wife, who was nearly dozing over her eternal
+knitting; "and if you had stuck to your profession, and not mingled in
+politics, my dear, we would have been much better off. You know I always
+told you so."
+
+"I believe you did, Bessy," said the Colonel. "But what's done can't be
+undone. Take example by me, Tom, d'ye hear, and never meddle in
+politics, my boy. But I believe I retain some cobwebs of law in my brain
+yet, and I might help you in your case. Who is your client?"
+
+"The Colony is one of the parties to the cause," replied Hansford; "but
+the details cannot interest the ladies, you know; I will confer with you
+some other time on the subject, and will be very happy to have your
+advice."
+
+All this time, Alfred Bernard had been silently watching the countenance
+of Hansford, and the latter had been unpleasantly conscious of the fact.
+As he made the last remark, he saw the keen eyes of Bernard resting upon
+him with such an expression of suspicion, that he could not avoid
+wincing. Bernard had no idea of losing the advantage which he thus
+possessed, and with wily caution he prepared a snare for his victim,
+more sure of success than an immediate attack would have been.
+
+"I think I have heard something of the case," he said, fixing a
+penetrating glance on Hansford as he spoke, "and I agree with Mr.
+Hansford, that its details here would not be very interesting to the
+ladies. By the way, Colonel, your conjecture, that Mr. Hansford was
+employed in the suppression of the rebellion, reminds me of a
+circumstance that I had almost forgotten to mention. You have heard of
+that fellow Bacon's perjury--"
+
+"Perjury!" exclaimed the Colonel. "No! on the contrary I had been given
+to understand that, with all his faults, his personal honour was so far
+unstained, even with suspicion."
+
+"Such was the general impression," returned Bernard, "but it is now
+proven that he is as capable of the greatest perfidy as of the most
+daring treason."
+
+"You probably refer, sir, to an affair," said Hansford, "of which I have
+some knowledge, and on which I may throw some light which will be more
+favorable to Mr. Bacon."
+
+"Your being able to conjecture so easily the fact to which I allude,"
+said Bernard, "is in itself an evidence that the general impression of
+his conduct is not so erroneous. I am happy," he added, with a sneer,
+"that in this free country, a rebel even can meet with so disinterested
+a defender."
+
+"If you refer, Mr. Bernard," replied Hansford, disregarding the manner
+of Bernard, "to the alleged infraction of his parole, I can certainly
+explain it. I know that Colonel Temple does not, and I hope that you do
+not, wish deliberately to do any man an injustice, even if he be a foe
+or a rebel."
+
+"That's true, my boy," said the generous old Temple. "Give the devil his
+due, even he is not as black as he is painted. That's my maxim. How was
+it, Tom? And begin at the beginning, that's the only way to straighten a
+tangled skein."
+
+"Then, as I understand the story," said Hansford, in a slow, distinct,
+voice, "it is this:--After Mr. Bacon returned to Henrico from his
+expedition against the Indians, he was elected to the House of
+Burgesses. On attempting to go down the river to Jamestown, to take his
+seat, he was arrested by Captain Gardiner, on a charge of treason, and
+brought as a prisoner before Sir William Berkeley. The Governor,
+expressing himself satisfied with his disclaimer and open recantation of
+any treasonable design, released him from imprisonment on parole, and,
+as is reported, promised at the same time to grant him the commission he
+desired. Mr. Bacon, hearing of the sickness of his wife, returned to
+Henrico, and while there, secret warrants were issued to arrest him
+again. Upon a knowledge of this fact he refused to surrender himself
+under his parole."
+
+"You have made a very clear case of it, if the facts be true," said
+Bernard, in a taunting tone, "and seem to be well acquainted with the
+motives and movements of the traitor. I have no doubt there are many
+among his deluded followers who fail to appreciate the full force of a
+parole d'honneur."
+
+"Sir!" said Hansford, his face flushing with indignation.
+
+"I only remarked," said Bernard, in reply, "that a traitor to his
+country knows but little of the laws which govern honourable men. My
+remark only applied to traitors, and such I conceive the followers and
+supporters of Nathaniel Bacon to be."
+
+Hansford only replied with a bow.
+
+"And so does Tom," said Temple, "and so do we all, Mr. Bernard. But
+Hansford knew Bacon before this late movement of his, and he is very
+loth to hear his old friend charged with anything that he does not
+deserve. But see, my wife there is nodding over her knitting, and
+Jeanie's pretty blue eyes, I know, begin to itch. Our motto is, Mr.
+Bernard, to go to bed with the chickens and rise with the lark. But we
+have failed in the first to-night, and I reckon we will sleep a little
+later than lady lark to-morrow. So, to bed, to bed, my lord."
+
+So saying, the hospitable old gentleman called a servant to show the
+gentlemen to their separate apartments.
+
+"You will be able to sleep in an old planter's cabin, Mr. Bernard," he
+said, "where you will find all clean and comfortable, although perhaps a
+little rougher than you are accustomed to. Tom, boy, you know the ways
+of the house, and I needn't apologize to you. And so pleasant dreams and
+a good night to you both."
+
+After the Colonel had gone, and before the servant had appeared,
+Hansford touched Bernard lightly on the shoulder. The latter turned
+around with some surprise.
+
+"You must be aware, Mr. Bernard," said Hansford, "that your language
+to-night remained unresented only because of my respect for the company
+in which we were."
+
+"I did not deem it of sufficient importance," replied Bernard, assuming
+an indifferent tone, "to inquire whether your motives for silence were
+respect for the family or regard for yourself."
+
+"You now at least know, sir. Let me ask you whether you made the remark
+to which I refer with a full knowledge of who I was, and what were my
+relations towards Mr. Bacon."
+
+"I decline making any explanation of language which, both in manner and
+expression, was sufficiently intelligible."
+
+"Then, sir," said Hansford, resolutely, "there is but one reparation
+that you can make," and he laid his hand significantly on his sword.
+
+"I understand you," returned Bernard, "but do not hold myself
+responsible to a man whose position in society may be more worthy of my
+contempt than of my resentment."
+
+"The company in which you found me, and the gentleman who introduced us,
+are sufficient guarantees of my position. If under these circumstances
+you refuse, you take advantage of a subterfuge alike unworthy of a
+gentleman or a brave man."
+
+"Even this could scarcely avail you, since the family are not aware of
+the treason by which you have forfeited any claim to their protection.
+But I waive any such objection, sir, and accept your challenge."
+
+"Being better acquainted with the place than yourself," said Hansford,
+"I would suggest, sir, that there is a little grove in rear of the
+barn-yard, which is a fit spot for our purpose. There will there be no
+danger of interruption."
+
+"As you please, sir," replied Bernard. "To-morrow morning, then, at
+sunrise, with swords, and in the grove you speak of."
+
+The servant entered the room at this moment, and the two young men
+parted for the night, having thus settled in a few moments the
+preliminaries of a mortal combat, with as much coolness as if it had
+been an agreement for a fox-hunt.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[6] A coxcomb, a popinjay.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+    "'We try this quarrel hilt to hilt.'
+    Then each at once his falchion drew,
+    Each on the ground his scabbard threw,
+    Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain,
+    As what they ne'er might see again;
+    Then foot, and point, and eye opposed,
+    In dubious strife they darkly closed."
+                                    _Lady of the Lake._
+
+
+It is a happy thing for human nature that the cares, and vexations, and
+fears, of this weary life, are at least excluded from the magic world of
+sleep. Exhausted nature will seek a respite from her trials in
+forgetfulness, and steeped in the sacred stream of Lethe, like the young
+Achilles, she becomes invulnerable. It is but seldom that care dares
+intrude upon this quiet realm, and though it may be truly said that
+sleep "swift on her downy pinions flies from woe," yet, when at last it
+does alight on the lid sullied by a tear, it rests as quietly as
+elsewhere. We have scarcely ever read of an instance where the last
+night of a convict was not passed in tranquil slumber, as though Sleep,
+the sweet sister of the dread Terror, soothed more tenderly, in this
+last hour, the victim of her gloomy brother's dart.
+
+Thomas Hansford, for with him our story remains, slept as calmly on this
+night as though a long life of happiness and fame stretched out before
+his eyes. 'Tis true, that ere he went to bed, as he unbelted his trusty
+sword, he looked at its well-tempered steel with a confident eye, and
+thought of the morrow. But so fully imbued were the youth of that iron
+age with the true spirit of chivalry, that life was but little regarded
+where honour was concerned, and the precarious tenure by which life was
+held, made it less prized by those who felt that they might be called on
+any day to surrender it. Hansford, therefore, slept soundly, and the
+first red streaks of the morning twilight were smiling through his
+window when he awoke. He rose, and dressing himself hastily, he repaired
+to the study, where he wrote a few hasty lines to his mother and to
+Virginia--the first to assure her of his filial love, and to pray her
+forgiveness for thus sacrificing life for honour; and the second
+breathing the warm ardour of his heart for her who, during his brief
+career, had lightened the cares and shared the joys which fortune had
+strewn in his path. As he folded these two letters and placed them in
+his pocket, he could not help drawing a deep sigh, to think of these two
+beings whose fate was so intimately entwined with his own, and whose
+thread of life would be weakened when his had been severed. Repelling
+such a thought as unworthy a brave man engaged in an honourable cause,
+he buckled on his sword and repaired with a firm step to the place of
+meeting. Alfred Bernard, true to his word, was there.
+
+And now the sun was just rising above the green forest, to the eastward.
+The hands, as by a striking metonymy those happy laborers were termed,
+who never knew the cares which environ the head, were just going out to
+their day's work. Men, women and children, some to plough the corn, and
+one a merry teamster, who, with his well attended team, was driving to
+the woods for fuel. And in the barn-yard were the sleek milch cows,
+smelling fresh with the dewy clover from the meadow, and their hides
+smoking with the early dew of morning; and the fowls, that strutted and
+clucked, and cackled, in the yard, all breakfasting on the scanty grains
+that had fallen from the horse-troughs--all save one inquisitive old
+rooster, who, flapping his wings and mounting the fence to crow, eyed
+askant the two young men, as though, a knight himself, he guessed their
+bloody intent. And the birds, too, those joyous, happy beings, who pass
+their life in singing, shook the fresh dew from their pretty wings,
+cleared their throats in the bracing air, and like the pious Persian,
+pouring forth their hymn of praise to the morning sun, fluttered away to
+search for their daily food. All was instinct with happiness and beauty.
+All were seeking to preserve the life which God had given but two, and
+they stood there, in the bright, dewy morning, to stain the fair robe of
+nature with blood. It is a sad thought, that of all the beings who
+rejoice in life, he alone, who bears the image of his Maker, should have
+wandered from His law.
+
+The men saluted one another coldly as Hansford approached, and Bernard
+said, with a firm voice, "You see, sir, I have kept my appointment. I
+believe nothing remains but to proceed."
+
+"You must excuse me for again suggesting," said Hansford, "that we wait
+a few moments, until these labourers are out of sight. We might be
+interrupted."
+
+Bernard silently acquiesced, and the combatants stood at a short
+distance apart, each rapt in his own reflections. What those reflections
+were may be easily imagined. Both were young men of talent and promise.
+The one, the favourite of Sir William Berkeley, saw fame and distinction
+awaiting him in the colony. The other, the beloved of the people, second
+only to Bacon in their affections, and by that great leader esteemed as
+a friend and entrusted as a confidant, had scarce less hope in the
+future. The one a stranger, almost unknown in the colony, with little to
+care for in the world but self; the other the support of an aged mother,
+and the pride of a fair and trusting girl--the strong rock, on whose
+protection the grey lichen of age had rested, and around which the green
+tendrils of love entwined. Both men of erring hearts, who in a few
+moments might be summoned to appear at that dread bar, where all the
+secrets of their hearts are known, and all the actions of their lives
+are judged. The two combatants were nearly equally matched in the use
+of the sword. Bernard's superior skill in fence being fully compensated
+by the superior coolness of his adversary.
+
+Just as the last labourer had disappeared, both swords flashed in the
+morning sun. The combat was long, and the issue doubtful. Each seemed so
+conscious of the skill of the other, that both acted chiefly on the
+defensive. But the protracted length of the fight turned to the
+advantage of Hansford, who, from his early training and hardy exercise,
+was more accustomed to endure fatigue. Bernard became weary of a contest
+of such little interest, and at last, forgetting the science in which he
+was a complete adept, he made a desperate lunge at the breast of the
+young colonist. This thrust Hansford parried with such success, that he
+sent the sword of his adversary flying through the air. In attempting to
+regain possession of his sword, Bernard's foot slipped, and he fell
+prostrate to the ground.
+
+"Now yield you," cried the victor, as he stood above the prostrate form
+of his antagonist, "and take back the foul stain which you have placed
+upon my name, or, by my troth, you had else better commend yourself to
+Heaven."
+
+"I cannot choose but yield," said Bernard, rising slowly from the
+ground, while his face was purple with rage and mortification. "But look
+ye, sir rebel, if but I had that good sword once more in my hand, I
+would prove that I can yet maintain my honour and my life against a
+traitor's arm. I take my life at your hands, but God do so to me, and
+more also, if the day do not come when you will wish that you had taken
+it while it was in your power. The life you give me shall be devoted to
+the one purpose of revenge."
+
+"As you please," said Hansford, eyeing him with an expression of bitter
+contempt. "Meantime, as you value your life, dedicated to so unworthy an
+object, let me hear no more of your insolence."
+
+"Nay, by my soul," cried Bernard, "I will not bear your taunts. Draw and
+defend yourself!" At the same time, with an active spring, he regained
+possession of his lost sword. But just as they were about to renew the
+attack, there appeared upon the scene of action a personage so strange
+in appearance, and so wild in dress, that Bernard dropped his weapon in
+surprise, and with a vacant stare gazed upon the singular apparition.
+
+The figure was that of a young girl, scarce twenty years of age, whose
+dark copper complexion, piercing black eyes, and high cheek bones, all
+proclaimed her to belong to that unhappy race which had so long held
+undisputed possession of this continent. Her dress was fantastic in the
+highest degree. Around her head was a plait of peake, made from those
+shells which were used by the Indians at once as their roanoke, or
+money, and as their most highly prized ornament of dress. A necklace and
+bracelets of the same adorned her neck and arms. A short smock, made of
+dressed deer-skin, which reached only to her knees, and was tightly
+fitted around the waist with a belt of wampum, but scantily concealed
+the swelling of her lovely bosom. Her legs, from the knee to the ancle,
+were bare, and her feet were covered with buckskin sandals, ornamented
+with beads, such as are yet seen in our western country, as the
+handiwork of the remnant of this unhappy race. Such a picturesque
+costume well became the graceful form that wore it. Her long, dark hair,
+which, amid all these decorations, was her loveliest ornament, fell
+unbound over her shoulders in rich profusion. As she approached, with
+light and elastic step, towards the combatants, Bernard, as we have
+said, dropped his sword in mute astonishment. It is true, that even in
+his short residence in Virginia, he had seen Indians at Jamestown, but
+they had come with friendly purpose to ask favors of the English. His
+impressions were therefore somewhat similar to those of a man who,
+having admired the glossy coat, and graceful, athletic form of a tiger
+in a menagerie, first sees that fierce animal bounding towards him from
+his Indian jungle. The effect upon him, however, was of course but
+momentary, and he again raised his sword to renew the attack. But his
+opponent, without any desire of engaging again in the contest, turned to
+the young girl and said, in a familiar voice, "Well, Mamalis, what
+brings you to the hall so early this morning?"
+
+"There is danger there," replied the young girl, solemnly, and in purer
+English than Bernard was prepared to hear. "If you would help me, put up
+your long knife and follow me."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Hansford, alarmed by her manner and words.
+
+"Manteo and his braves come to take blood for blood," returned the girl.
+"There is no time to lose."
+
+"In God's name, Mr. Bernard," said Hansford, quickly, "come along with
+us. This is no time for private quarrel. Our swords are destined for
+another use."
+
+"Most willingly," replied Bernard; "our enmity will scarcely cool by
+delay. And mark me, young man, Alfred Bernard will never rest until he
+avenges the triumph of your sword this morning, or the foul blot which
+you have placed upon his name. But let that pass now. Can this
+creature's statement be relied on?"
+
+"She is as true as Heaven," whispered Hansford. "Come on, for we have
+indeed but little time to lose; at another time I will afford you ample
+opportunity to redeem your honour or to avenge yourself. You will not
+find my blood cooler by delay." And so the three walked on rapidly
+towards the house, the two young men side by side, after having sworn
+eternal hostility to one another, but yet willing to forget their
+private feud in the more important duties before them.
+
+The reader of the history of this interesting period, will remember
+that there were, at this time, many causes of discontent prevailing
+among the Indians of Virginia. As has been before remarked, the murder
+of a herdsman, Robert Hen by name, and other incidents of a similar
+character, were so terribly avenged by the incensed colonists, not only
+upon the guilty, but upon friendly tribes, that the discontent of the
+Indians was wide spread and nearly universal. Nor did it cease until the
+final suppression of the Indian power by Nathaniel Bacon, at the battle
+of Bloody Run. This, however, was but the immediate cause of
+hostilities, for which there had already been, in the opinion of the
+Indians, sufficient provocation. Many obnoxious laws had been passed by
+the Assembly, in regard to the savages, that were so galling to their
+independence, that the seeds of discord and enmity were already widely
+sown. Among these were the laws prohibiting the trade in guns and
+ammunition with the Indians; requiring the warriors of the peaceful
+tribes to wear badges in order that they might be recognized;
+restricting them in their trade to particular marts; and, above all,
+providing that the _Werowance_, or chief of a tribe, should hold his
+position by the appointment of the Governor, and not by the choice of
+his braves. This last provision, which struck at the very independence
+of the tribes, was so offensive, that peaceable relations with the
+Indians could not long be maintained. Add to this the fact, which for
+its inhumanity is scarcely credible, that the English at Monados, now
+the island of New York, had, with a view of controlling the monopoly of
+the trade in furs and skins, inspired the Indians with a bitter
+hostility toward the Virginians, and it will easily be seen that the
+magazine of discontent needed but a spark to explode in open hostility.
+
+So much is necessary to be premised in order that the reader may
+understand the relations which existed, at this period, between the
+colonists and the Indians around them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+    "And in, the buskined hunters of the deer,
+    To Albert's home with shout and cymbal throng."
+                                            _Campbell._
+
+
+The surprise and horror with which the intelligence of this impending
+attack was received by the family at Windsor Hall may be better imagined
+than described. Manteo, the leader of the party, a young Indian of the
+Pamunkey tribe, was well known to them all. With his sister, the young
+girl whom we have described, he lived quietly in his little wigwam, a
+few miles from the hall, and in his intercourse with the family had been
+friendly and even affectionate. But with all this, he was still ardently
+devoted to his race, and thirsting for fame; and stung by what he
+conceived the injustice of the whites, he had leagued himself in an
+enterprise, which, regardless of favour or friendship, was dictated by
+revenge.
+
+It was, alas! too late to hope for escape from the hall, or to send to
+the neighboring plantations for assistance; and, to add to their
+perplexity, the whole force of the farm, white servants and black, had
+gone to a distant field, where it was scarcely possible that they could
+hear of the attack until it was too late to contribute their aid in the
+defence. But with courage and resolution the gentlemen prepared to make
+such defence or resistance as was in their power, and, indeed, from the
+unsettled character of the times, a planter's house was no mean
+fortification against the attacks of the Indians. Early in the history
+of the colony, it was found necessary, for the general safety, to enact
+laws requiring each planter to provide suitable means of defence, in
+case of any sudden assault by the hostile tribes. Accordingly, the doors
+to these country mansions were made of the strongest material, and in
+some cases, and such was the case at Windsor Hall, were lined on the
+interior by a thick sheet of iron. The windows, too, or such as were low
+enough to be scaled from the ground, were protected by shutters of
+similar material. Every planter had several guns, and a sufficient store
+of ammunition for defence. Thus it will be seen that Windsor Hall,
+protected by three vigorous men, well armed and stout of heart, was no
+contemptible fortress against the rude attacks of a few savages, whose
+number in all probability would not exceed twenty. The greatest
+apprehension was from fire; but, strange to say, the savages but seldom
+resorted to this mode of vengeance, except when wrought up to the
+highest state of excitement.[7]
+
+"At any rate," said the brave old Colonel, "we will remain where we are
+until threatened with fire, and then at least avenge our lives with the
+blood of these infamous wretches."
+
+The doors and lower windows had been barricaded, and the three men,
+armed to the teeth, stood ready in the hall for the impending attack.
+Virginia and her mother were there, the former pale as ashes, but
+suppressing her emotions with a violent effort in order to contribute to
+her mother's comfort. In fact, the old lady, notwithstanding her boast
+of bravery on the evening before, stood in need of all the consolation
+that her daughter could impart. She vented her feelings in screams as
+loud as those of the Indians she feared, and refused to be comforted.
+Virginia, forgetful of her own equal danger, leant tenderly over her
+mother, who had thrown herself upon a sofa, and whispered those sweet
+words of consolation, which religion can alone suggest in the hour of
+our trial:
+
+"Mother, dear mother," she said, "remember that although earthly
+strength should fail, we are yet in the hands of One who is mighty."
+
+"Well, and what if we are," cried her mother, whose faith was like that
+of the old lady, who, when the horses ran away with her carriage,
+trusted in Providence till the breeching broke. "Well, and what if we
+are, if in a few minutes our scalps may be taken by these horrible
+savages?"
+
+"But, dear mother, He has promised--"
+
+"Oh, I don't know whether he has or not--but as sure as fate there they
+come," and the old lady relapsed into her hysterics.
+
+"Mother, mother, remember your duty as a Christian--remember in whom you
+have put your trust," said Virginia, earnestly.
+
+"Oh, yes, that's the way. Of course I know nothing of my duty, and I
+don't pretend to be as good as others. I am nothing but a poor, weak old
+woman, and must be reminded of my duty by my daughter, although I was a
+Christian long before she was born. But, for my part, I think it's
+tempting Providence to bear such a judgment with so much indifference."
+
+"But, Bessy," interposed the Colonel, seeing Virginia was silent under
+this unusual kind of argument, "your agitation will only make the matter
+worse. If you give way thus, we cannot be as ready and cool in action as
+we should. Come now, dear Bessy, calm yourself."
+
+"Oh, yes, it's well to say that, after bringing me all the way into this
+wild country, to be devoured by these wild Indians. Oh, that I should
+ever have consented to leave my quiet home in dear old England for this!
+And all because a protector reigned instead of a king. Protector,
+forsooth; I would rather have a hundred protectors at this moment than
+one king."
+
+"Father," said Virginia, in a tremulous voice, "had we not better retire
+to some other part of the house? We can only incommode you here."
+
+"Right, my girl," said her father. "Take your mother up stairs into your
+room, and try and compose her."
+
+"Take me, indeed," said his worthy spouse. "Colonel Temple, you speak as
+if I was a baby, to be carried about as you choose. I assure you, I will
+not budge a foot from you."
+
+"Stay where you are then," replied Temple, impatiently, "and for God's
+sake be calm. Ha! now my boys--here they come!" and a wild yell, which
+seemed to crack the very welkin, announced the appearance of the enemy.
+
+"I think we had all better go to the upper windows," said Hansford,
+calmly. "There is nothing to be done by being shut up in this dark hall;
+while there, protected from their arrows, we may do some damage to the
+enemy. If we remain, our only chance is to make a desperate sally, in
+which we would be almost certainly destroyed."
+
+"Mr. Hansford," said Virginia, "give me a gun--there is one left--and
+you shall see that a young girl, in an hour of peril like this, knows
+how to aid brave men in her own defence."
+
+Hansford bent an admiring glance upon the heroic girl, as he placed the
+weapon in her hands, while her father said, with rapture, "God bless
+you, my daughter. If your arm were strong as your heart is brave, you
+had been a hero. I retract what I said on yesterday," he added in a
+whisper, with a sad smile, "for you have this day proved yourself worthy
+to be a brave man's wife."
+
+The suggestion of Hansford was readily agreed upon, and the little party
+were soon at their posts, shielded by the windows from the attack of the
+Indians, and yet in a position from which they could annoy the enemy
+considerably by their own fire. From his shelter there, Bernard, to whom
+the sight was entirely new, could see rushing towards the hall, a party
+of about twenty savages, painted in the horrible manner which they adopt
+to inspire terror in a foe, and attired in that strange wild costume,
+which is now familiar to every school-boy. Their leader, a tall,
+athletic young Indian, surpassed them all in the hideousness of his
+appearance. His closely shaven hair was adorned with a tall eagle's
+feather, and pendant from his ears were the rattles of the rattlesnake.
+The only garment which concealed his nakedness was a short smock, or
+apron, reaching from his waist nearly to his knees, and made of dressed
+deer skin, adorned with beads and shells. Around his neck and wrists
+were strings of peake and roanoke. His face was painted in the most
+horrible manner, with a ground of deep red, formed from the dye of the
+pocone root, and variegated with streaks of blue, yellow and green.
+Around his eyes were large circles of green paint. But to make his
+appearance still more hideous, feathers and hair were stuck all over his
+body, upon the fresh paint, which made the warrior look far more like
+some wild beast of the forest than a human being.
+
+Brandishing a tomahawk in one hand, and holding a carbine in the other,
+Manteo, thus disguised, led on his braves with loud yells towards the
+mansion of Colonel Temple. How different from the respectful demeanour,
+and more modest attire, in which he was accustomed to appear before the
+family of Windsor Hall.
+
+To the great comfort of the inmates, his carbine was the only one in the
+party, thanks to the wise precaution of the Assembly, in restricting the
+sale of such deadly weapons to the Indians. His followers, arrayed in
+like horrible costume with himself, followed on with their tomahawks and
+bows; their arrows were secured in a quiver slung over the shoulder,
+which was formed of the skins of foxes and raccoons, rendered more
+terrible by the head of the animal being left unsevered from the skin.
+To the loud shrieks and yells of their voices, was added the unearthly
+sound of their drums and rattles--the whole together forming a
+discordant medley, which, as brave old John Smith has well and quaintly
+observed, "would rather affright than delight any man."
+
+All this the besieged inmates of the hall saw with mingled feelings of
+astonishment and dread, awaiting with intense anxiety the result.
+
+"Now be perfectly quiet," said Hansford, in a low tone, for, by tacit
+consent, he was looked upon as the leader of the defence. "The house
+being closed, they may conclude that the family are absent, and so,
+after their first burst of vengeance, retire. Their bark is always worse
+than their bite."
+
+Such indeed seemed likely to be the case, for the Indians, arrived at
+the porch, looked around with some surprise at the barred doors and
+windows, and began to confer together. Whatever might have been the
+event of their conference, their actions, however, were materially
+affected by an incident which, though intended for the best, was well
+nigh resulting in destruction to the whole family.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[7] This fact, which I find mentioned by several historians, is
+explained by Kercheval, in his history of the Valley of Virginia, by the
+supposition that the Indians for a long time entertained the hope of
+reconquering the country, and saved property from destruction which
+might be of use to them in the future. See page 90 of Valley of Va.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+    "Like gun when aimed at duck or plover,
+    Kicks back and knocks the shooter over."
+
+
+There was at Windsor Hall, an old family servant, known alike to the
+negroes and the "white folks," by the familiar appellation of Uncle
+Giles. He was one of those old-fashioned negroes, who having borne the
+heat and burden of the day, are turned out to live in comparative
+freedom, and supplied with everything that can make their declining
+years comfortable and happy. Uncle Giles, according to his own account,
+was sixty-four last Whitsuntide, and was consequently born in Africa. It
+is a singular fact connected with this race, that whenever consulted
+about their age, they invariably date the anniversary of their birth at
+Christmas, Easter or Whitsuntide, the triennial holydays to which they
+are entitled. Whether this arises from the fact that a life which is
+devoted to the service of others should commence with a holyday, or
+whether these three are the only epochs known to the negro, is a
+question of some interest, but of little importance to our narrative. So
+it was, that old uncle Giles, in his own expressive phrase was, "after
+wiking all his born days, done turn out to graze hisself to def." The
+only business of the old man was to keep himself comfortable in winter
+by the kitchen fire, and in summer to smoke his old corn-cob pipe on the
+three legged bench that stood at the kitchen door. Added to this, was
+the self-assumed duty of "strapping" the young darkies, and lecturing
+the old ones on the importance of working hard, and obeying "old massa,"
+cheerfully in everything. And so old uncle Giles, with white and black,
+with old and young, but especially with old uncle Giles himself, was a
+great character. Among other things that increased his inordinate
+self-esteem, was the possession of a rusty old blunderbuss, which, long
+since discarded as useless by his master, had fallen into his hands, and
+was regarded by him and his sable admirers as a pearl of great price.
+
+Now it so happened, that on the morning to which our story refers, uncle
+Giles was quietly smoking his pipe, and muttering solemnly to himself in
+that grumbling tone so peculiar to old negroes. When he learned,
+however, of the intended attack of the Indians, the old man, who well
+remembered the earlier skirmishes with the savages, took his old
+blunderbuss from its resting-place above the door of the kitchen, and
+prepared himself for action. The old gun, which owing to the growing
+infirmities of its possessor, had not been called into use for years,
+was now rusted from disuse and neglect; and a bold spider had even dared
+to seek, not the bubble reputation, but his more substantial gossamer
+palace, at the very mouth of the barrel. Notwithstanding all this, the
+gun had all the time remained loaded, for Giles was too rigid an
+economist to waste a charge without some good reason. Armed with this
+formidable weapon, Giles succeeded in climbing up the side of the low
+cabin kitchen, by the logs which protruded from either end of the wall.
+Arrived at the top and screening himself behind the rude log and mud
+chimney, he awaited with a patience and immobility which Wellington
+might have envied, the arrival of the foe. Here then he was quietly
+seated when the conference to which we have alluded took place between
+the Indian warriors.
+
+"Bird flown," said Manteo, the leader of the party. "Nest empty."
+
+Two or three of the braves stooped down and began to examine the soft
+sandy soil to discover if there were any tracks or signs of the family
+having left. Fortunately the search seemed satisfactory, for the
+foot-prints of Bernard's and Hansford's horses, as they were led from
+the house towards the stable on the previous evening, were still quite
+visible.
+
+This little circumstance seemed to determine the party, and they had
+turned away, probably to seek their vengeance elsewhere, or to return at
+a more propitious moment, when the discharge of a gun was heard, so
+loud, so crashing, and so alarming, that it seemed like the sudden
+rattling of thunder in a storm.
+
+Luckily, perhaps for all parties, while the shot fell through the poplar
+trees like the first big drops of rain in summer, the only damage which
+was done was in clipping off the feather which was worn by Manteo as a
+badge of his position. When we say this, however, we mean to refer only
+to the effect of the _charge_, not of the _discharge_ of the gun, for
+the breech rebounding violently against old Giles shoulder, the poor
+fellow lost his balance and came tumbling to the ground. The cabin was
+fortunately not more than ten feet high, and our African hero escaped
+into the kitchen with a few bruises--a happy compromise for the fate
+which would have inevitably been his had he remained in his former
+position. The smoke of his fusil mingling with the smoke from the
+chimney, averted suspicion, and with the simple-minded creatures who
+heard the report and witnessed its effects the whole matter remained a
+mystery.
+
+"Tunder," said one, looking round in vain for the source from which an
+attack could be made.
+
+"Call dat tunder," growled Manteo, pointing significantly to his moulted
+plume that lay on the ground.
+
+"Okees[8] mad. Shoot Pawcussacks[9] from osies,"[10] said one of the
+older and more experienced of the party, endeavouring to give some
+rational explanation of so inexplicable a mystery.
+
+A violent dispute here arose between the different warriors as to the
+cause of this sudden anger of the gods; some contending that it was
+because they were attacking a Netoppew or friend, and others with equal
+zeal contending that it was to reprove the slowness of their vengeance.
+
+From their position above, all these proceedings could be seen, and
+these contentions heard by the besieged party. The mixed language in
+which the men spoke, for they had even thus early appropriated many
+English words to supply the deficiencies in their own barren tongue, was
+explained by Mamalis, where it was unintelligible to the whites. This
+young girl felt a divided interest in the fate of the besieging and
+besieged parties; for all of her devotion to Virginia Temple could not
+make her entirely forget the fortunes of her brave brother.
+
+In a few moments, she saw that it was necessary to take some decisive
+step, for the faction which was of harsher mood, and urged immediate
+vengeance, was seen to prevail in the conference. The fatal word "fire"
+was several times heard, and Manteo was already starting towards the
+kitchen to procure the means of carrying into effect their deadly
+purpose.
+
+"I see nothing left, but to defend ourselves as we may," said Hansford
+in a low voice, at the same time raising his musket, and advancing a
+step towards the window, with a view of throwing it open and commencing
+the attack.
+
+"Oh, don't shoot," said Mamalis, imploringly, "I will go and save all."
+
+"Do you think, my poor girl, that they will hearken to mercy at your
+intercession," said Colonel Temple, shaking his head, sorrowfully.
+
+"No!" replied Mamalis, "the heart of a brave knows not mercy. If he gave
+his ear to the cry of mercy, he would be a squaw and not a brave. But
+fear not, I can yet save you," she added confidently, "only do not be
+seen."
+
+The men looked from one to the other to decide.
+
+"Trust her, father," said Virginia, "if you are discovered blood must be
+shed. She says she can save us all. Trust her, Hansford. Trust her, Mr.
+Bernard."
+
+"We could lose little by being betrayed at this stage of the game," said
+Temple, "so go, my good girl, and Heaven will bless you!"
+
+Quick as thought the young Indian left the room, and descended the
+stairs. Drawing the bolt of the back door so softly, that she scarcely
+heard it move, herself, she went to the kitchen, where old Giles, a prey
+to a thousand fears, was seated trembling over the fire, his face of
+that peculiar ashy hue, which the negro complexion sometimes assumes as
+an humble apology for pallor. As she touched the old man on the
+shoulder, he groaned in despair and looked up, showing scarcely anything
+but the whites of his eyes, while his woolly head, thinned and white
+with age, resembled ashes sprinkled over a bed of extinguished charcoal.
+Seeing the face of an Indian, and too terrified to recognize Mamalis, he
+fell on his knees at her feet, and cried,
+
+"Oh, for de Lord sake, massa, pity de poor old nigger! My lod a messy,
+massa, I neber shoot anudder gun in all my born days."
+
+"Hush," said Mamalis, "and listen to me. I tell lie, you say it is
+truth; I say whites in Jamestown; you say so too--went yesterday."
+
+"But bress your soul, missis," said Giles, "sposen dey ax me ef I shot
+dat cussed gun, me say dat truf too?"
+
+"No, say it was thunder."
+
+At this moment the tall dark form of Manteo entered the room. He started
+with surprise, as he saw his sister there, and in such company. His dark
+eye darted a fierce glance at Giles, who quailed beneath its glare.
+Then turning again to his sister, he said in the Indian tongue, which
+we freely translate:
+
+"Mamalis with the white man! where is he that I may drown my vengeance
+in his blood."
+
+"He is gone; he is not within the power of Manteo. Manitou[11] has saved
+Manteo from the crime of killing his best friend."
+
+"His people have killed my people for the offence of the few, I will
+kill him for the cruelty of many. For this is the calumet[12] broken.
+For this is the tree of peace[13] cut down by the tomahawk of war."
+
+"Say not so," replied Mamalis. "Temple is the netoppew[14] of Manteo. He
+is even now gone to the grand sachem of the long knives, to make Manteo
+the Werowance[15] of the Pamunkeys."
+
+"Ha! is this true?" asked Manteo, anxiously.
+
+"Ask this old man," returned Mamalis. "They all went to Jamestown
+yesterday, did they not?" she asked in English of Giles, who replied, in
+a trembling voice,
+
+"Yes, my massa, dey has all gone to Jimson on yestiddy."
+
+"And I a Werowance!" said the young man proudly, in his own language.
+"Spirits of Powhatan and Opechancanough, the name of Manteo shall live
+immortally as yours. His glory shall be the song of our race, and the
+young men of his tribe shall emulate his deeds. His life shall be
+brilliant as the sun's bright course, and his spirit shall set in the
+spirit land, bright with unfading glory."
+
+Then turning away with a lofty step, he proceeded to rejoin his
+companions.
+
+The stratagem was successful, and Manteo, the bravest, the noblest of
+the braves, succeeded after some time in persuading them to desist from
+their destructive designs. In a few moments, to the delight of the
+little besieged party, the Indians had left the house, and were soon
+buried in the deep forest.
+
+"Thanks, my brave, generous girl," said Temple, as Mamalis, after the
+success of her adventure, entered the room. "To your presence of mind we
+owe our lives."
+
+"But I told a lie," said the girl, looking down; "I said you had gone to
+make Manteo the Werowance of the Pamunkeys."
+
+"Well, my girl, he shall not want my aid in getting the office. So you,
+in effect, told the truth."
+
+"No, no; I said you had gone. It was a lie."
+
+"Ah, but, Mamalis," said Virginia, in an encouraging voice, for she had
+often impressed upon the mind of the poor savage girl the nature of a
+lie, "when a falsehood is told for the preservation of life, the sin
+will be freely forgiven which has accomplished so much good."
+
+"Ignatius Loyola could not have stated his favourite principle more
+clearly, Miss Temple," said Bernard, with a satirical smile. "I see that
+the Reformation has not made so wide a difference in the two Churches,
+after all."
+
+"No, Mr. Bernard," said old Temple, somewhat offended at the young man's
+tone; "the stratagem of the soldier, and the intrigue of the treacherous
+Jesuit, are very different. The one is the means which brave men may use
+to accomplish noble ends; the other is the wily machinations of a
+perfidious man to attain his own base purposes. The one is the skilful
+fence and foil of the swordsman, the other the subtle and deceitful
+design of the sneaking snake."
+
+"Still they both do what is plainly a deception, in order to accomplish
+an end which they each believe to be good. Once break down the barrier
+to the field of truth, and it is impossible any longer to distinguish
+between virtue and error."
+
+"Well," said Mrs. Temple, "I am the last to blame the bridge which
+carries me over, and I'll warrant there is not one here, man or woman,
+who isn't glad that our lives have been saved by Mamalis's
+falsehood--for I have not had such a fright in all my days."
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[8] Gods.
+
+[9] Guns.
+
+[10] Heaven.
+
+[11] The good spirit of the Indians.
+
+[12] The pipe of peace.
+
+[13] When a peace was concluded a tree was planted, and the contracting
+parties declared that the peace should be as long lived as the tree.
+
+[14] The friend or benefactor.
+
+[15] The Werowance, or chief of a tribe, was appointed by the Governor,
+and this mode of appointment gave great dissatisfaction to the Indians.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+    "Religion, 'tis that doth distinguish us
+    From their bruit humour, well we may it know,
+    That can with understanding argue thus,
+    Our God is truth, but they cannot do so."
+                                      _Smith's History._
+
+
+As may be well imagined, the Indian attack formed the chief topic of
+conversation at Windsor Hall during the day. Many were the marvellous
+stories which were called to memory, of Indian warfare and of Indian
+massacres--of the sad fate of those who had been their victims, the
+tortures to which their prisoners had been subjected, and the relentless
+cruelty with which even the tender babe, while smiling in the face of
+its ruthless murderer, was dashed pitilessly against a tree. Among these
+narratives, the most painful was that detailing the fate of George
+Cassen, who, tied to a tree by strong cords, was doomed to see his flesh
+and joints cut off, one by one, and roasted before his eyes; his head
+and face flayed with sharp mussel shells, and his belly ripped open;
+until at last, in the extremity of his agony, he welcomed the very
+flames which consumed him, and rescued his body from their cruelty.[16]
+
+Uncle Giles, whose premature action had so nearly ruined them all, and
+yet had probably been the cause of their ultimate safety, was the hero
+of the day, and loud was the laugh at the incident of the gun and
+kitchen chimney. The old man's bruises were soon tended and healed, and
+the grateful creature declared that "Miss Ginny's _lineaments_ always
+did him more good than all the doctors in the world;" and in truth they
+were good for sore eyes.
+
+It was during the morning's conversation that Bernard learned from his
+host, and from Virginia, the intimate relations existing between Mamalis
+and the family at Windsor Hall. Many years before, there had been, about
+two miles from the hall, an Indian village, inhabited by some of the
+tribe of the Pamunkeys. Among them was an old chieftain named
+Nantaquaus,[17] who claimed to be of the same lineage as Powhatan, and
+who, worn out with war, now resided among his people as their
+patriarchal counsellor. In the hostilities which had existed before the
+long peace, which was only ended by the difficulties that gave rise to
+Bacon's Rebellion, the whole of the inhabitants of the little village
+had been cut off by the whites, with the exception of this old patriarch
+and his two orphan grand-children, who were saved through the
+interposition of Colonel Temple, exerted in their behalf on account of
+some kindness he had received at their hands. Grateful for the life of
+his little descendants, for he had long since ceased to care for the
+prolongation of his own existence, old Nantaquaus continued to live on
+terms approaching even to intimacy with the Temples. When at length he
+died, he bequeathed his grand-children to the care of his protector. It
+was his wish, however, that they should still remain in the old wigwam
+where he had lived, and where they could best remember him, and, in
+visions, visit his spirit in the far hunting ground. In compliance with
+this, his last wish, Manteo and Mamalis continued their residence in
+that rude old hut, and secured a comfortable subsistence--he by fishing
+and the chase, and she by the cultivation of their little patch of
+ground, where maize, melons, pompions, cushaus, and the like, rewarded
+her patient labour with their abundant growth. Besides these duties, to
+which the life of the Indian woman was devoted, the young girl in her
+leisure moments, and in the long winter, made, with pretty skill, mats,
+baskets and sandals, weaving the former curiously with the long willow
+twigs which grew along the banks of the neighbouring York river, and
+forming the latter with dressed deer skin, ornamented with flowers made
+of beads and shells, or with the various coloured feathers of the birds.
+Her little manufactures met with a ready sale at the hall, being
+exchanged for sugar and coffee, and other such comforts as civilization
+provides; and for the sale of the excess of these simple articles over
+the home demand, she found a willing agent in the Colonel, who, in his
+frequent visits to Jamestown, disposed of them to advantage.
+
+Despite these associations, however, Manteo retained much of the
+original character of his race, and the wild forest life which he led,
+bringing him into communication with the less civilized members of his
+tribe, helped to cherish the native-fierceness of his temper. Clinging
+with tenacity to the superstitions and pursuits of his fathers, his mind
+was of that sterile soil, in which the seeds of civilization take but
+little root. His sister, without having herself lost all the peculiar
+features of her natural character, was still formed in a different
+mould, and her softer nature had already received some slight impress
+from Virginia's teachings, which led her by slow but certain degrees
+towards the truth. His was of that fierce, tiger nature, which Horace
+has so finely painted in his nervous description of Achilles,
+
+    "Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer!"
+
+While her's can be best understood by her name, Mamalis, which,
+signifying in her own language a young fawn, at once expressed the grace
+of her person and the gentleness of her nature.
+
+Such is a brief but sufficient description of the characters and
+condition of these two young Indians, who play an important part in this
+narrative. The description, we may well suppose, derived additional
+interest to Bernard, from its association with the recent exciting
+scene, and from the interest which his heart began already to entertain
+for the fair narrator.
+
+But probably the most amusing, if not the most instructive portion of
+the morning's conversation, was that in which Mrs. Temple bore a
+conspicuous part. The danger being past, the good woman adverted with
+much pride to the calmness and fortitude which she had displayed during
+the latter part of the trying scene. She never suspected that her
+conduct had been at all open to criticism, for in the excess of her
+agitation, she had not been aware, either of her manner or her language.
+
+"The fact is, gentlemen," she said, "that while you all displayed great
+coolness and resolution, it was well that you were not surrounded by
+timid women to embarrass you with their fears. I was determined that
+none of you should see my alarm, and I have no doubt you were surprised
+at my calmness."
+
+"It was very natural for ladies to feel alarm," said Hansford, scarcely
+able to repress the rising smile, "under circumstances, which inspired
+even strong men with fear. I only wonder that you bore it so well."
+
+"Ah, it is easy to see you are apologizing for Virginia, and I must
+confess that once or twice she did almost shake my self-possession a
+little by her agitation. But poor thing! we should make allowance for
+her. She is unaccustomed to such scenes. I, who was, you may say,
+cradled in a revolution, and brought up in civil war, am not so easily
+frightened."
+
+"No, indeed, Bessy," said old Temple, smiling good humouredly, "so
+entirely were you free from the prevailing fears, that I believe you
+were unconscious half the time of what was going on."
+
+"Well, really, Colonel Temple," said the old lady, bristling up at this
+insinuation, "I think it ill becomes you to be exposing me as a jest
+before an entire stranger. However, it makes but little difference. It
+won't last always."
+
+This prediction of his good wife, that "It," which always referred to
+her husband's conduct immediately before, was doomed like all other
+earthly things to terminate, was generally a precursor to hysterics. And
+so she shook her head and patted her foot hysterically, while the
+Colonel wholly unconscious of any reasonable cause for the offence he
+had given, rolled up his eyes and shrugged his shoulders in silence.
+
+Leaving the good couple to settle at their leisure those little disputes
+which never lasted on an average more than five minutes, let us follow
+Virginia as she goes down stairs to make some preparation for dinner. As
+she passed through the hall on her way to the store-room, she saw the
+graceful form of Mamalis just leaving the house. In the conversation
+which ensued we must beg the reader to imagine the broken English in
+which the young Indian expressed herself, while we endeavor to give it a
+free and more polite translation.
+
+"Mamalis, you are not going home already, are you," said Virginia, in a
+gentle voice.
+
+"Yes," replied the girl, with a sigh.
+
+"Why do you sigh, Mamalis? Are you unhappy, my poor girl?"
+
+"It is very sad to be alone in my poor wigwam," she replied.
+
+"Then stay with us, Manteo is away, and will probably not be back for
+some days."
+
+"He would be angry if he came home and found me away."
+
+"Oh, my poor girl," said Virginia, taking her tenderly by the hand, "I
+wish you could stay with me, and let me teach you as I used to about God
+and heaven. Oh, think of these things, Mamalis, and they will make you
+happy even when alone. Wouldn't you like to have a friend always near
+you when Manteo is away?"
+
+"Oh yes," said the girl earnestly.
+
+"Well, there is just such a Friend who will never desert you; who is
+ever near to protect you in danger, and to comfort you in distress.
+Whose eye is never closed in sleep, and whose thoughts are never
+wandering from his charge."
+
+"That cannot be," said the young Indian, incredulously.
+
+"Yes, it both can be and is so," returned her friend. "One who has
+promised, that if we trust in him he will never leave us nor forsake us.
+That friend is the powerful Son of God, and the loving Brother of simple
+man. One who died to show his love, and who lives to show his power to
+protect. It is Jesus Christ."
+
+"You told me about him long ago," said Mamalis, shaking her head, "but I
+never saw him. He never comes to Manteo's wigwam."
+
+"Nay, but He is still your friend," urged Virginia earnestly. "When you
+left the room this morning on that work of mercy to save us all, I did
+not see you, and yet I told my father that I knew you would do us good.
+Were you less my friend because I didn't see you?
+
+"No."
+
+"No," continued Virginia, "you were more my friend, for if you had
+remained with me, we might all have been lost. And so Jesus has but
+withdrawn Himself from our eyes that He may intercede with his offended
+father, as you did with Manteo."
+
+"Does he tell lies for us?" said the girl with artless simplicity, and
+still remembering her interview with her brother. Virginia felt a thrill
+of horror pass through her heart as she heard such language, but
+remembering the ignorance of her poor blinded pupil, she proceeded.
+
+"Oh! Mamalis, do not talk thus. He of whom I speak is not as we are, and
+cannot commit a sin. But while He cannot commit sin Himself, He can die
+for the sins of others."
+
+"Well," said the poor girl, seeing that she had unwittingly hurt the
+feelings of her friend, "I don't understand all that. Your God is so
+high, mine I can see and understand. But you love your God, I only fear
+mine."
+
+"And do you not believe that God is good, my poor friend?" said
+Virginia, with a sigh.
+
+"From Manitou all good proceeds," replied Mamalis, as with beautiful
+simplicity she thus detailed her simple creed, which she had been taught
+by her fathers. "From him is life, and joy, and love. The blue sky is
+his home, and the green earth he has made for his pleasure. The fresh
+smelling flowers and the pure air are his breath, and the sweet music of
+the wind through the woods is his voice. The stars that he has sown
+through heaven, are the pure shells which he has picked up by the rivers
+which flow through the spirit land; and the sun is his chariot, with
+which he drives through heaven, while he smiles upon the world. Such is
+Manitou, whose very life is the good giving; the bliss-bestowing."
+
+"My sweet Mamalis," said Virginia, "you have, indeed, in your ignorance,
+painted a beautiful picture of the beneficence of God. And can you
+not--do you not thank this Giver of every good and perfect gift for all
+his mercies?"
+
+"I cannot thank him for that which he must bestow," said the girl. "We
+do not thank the flower because its scent is sweet; nor the birds that
+fill the woods with their songs, because their music is grateful to the
+ear. Manitou is made to be adored, not to be thanked, for his very
+essence is good, and his very breath is love."
+
+"But remember, my friend, that the voice of this Great Spirit is heard
+in the thunder, as well as in the breeze, and his face is revealed in
+the lightning as well as in the flower. He is the author of evil as well
+as of good, and should we not pray that He would avert the first, even
+if He heed not our prayer to bestow the last."
+
+If Virginia was shocked by the sentiments of her pupil before, Mamalis
+was now as much so. Such an idea as ascribing evil to the great Spirit
+of the Universe, never entered the mind of the young savage, and now
+that she first heard it, she looked upon it as little less than open
+profanity.
+
+"Manitou is not heard in the thunder nor seen in the lightning," she
+replied. "It is Okee whose fury against us is aroused, and who thus
+turns blessings into curses, and good into evil. To him we pray that he
+look not upon us with a frown, nor withhold the mercies that flow from
+Manitou; that the rains may fall upon our maize, and the sun may ripen
+it in the full ear; that he send the fat wild deer across my brother's
+path, and ride on his arrow until it reach its heart; that he direct the
+grand council in wisdom, and guide the tomahawk in its aim in battle.
+But I have tarried too long, my brother may await my coming."
+
+"Nay, but you shall not go--at least," said Virginia, "without something
+for your trouble. You have nearly lost a day, already. And come often
+and see me, Mamalis, and we will speak of these things again. I will
+teach you that your Manitou is good, as well as the author of good; and
+that he is love, as well as the fountain of love in others; that it is
+to him we should pray and in whom we should trust, and he will lead us
+safely through all our trials in this life, and take us to a purer
+spirit land than that of which you dream."
+
+Mamalis shook her head, but promised she would come. Then loading her
+with such things as she thought she stood in need of, and which the poor
+girl but seldom met with, except from the same kind hand, Virginia bid
+her God speed, and they parted; Mamalis to her desolate wigwam, and
+Virginia to her labours in the household affairs, which had devolved
+upon her.[18]
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[16] Fact.
+
+[17] This was also the name of the only son of the great Powhatan, as
+appears by John Smith's letter to the Queen, introducing the Princess
+Pocahontas.
+
+[18] In the foregoing scene the language of Mamalis has been purposely
+rendered more pure than as it fell from her lips, because thus it was
+better suited to the dignity of her theme. As for the creed itself, it
+is taken from so many sources, that it would be impossible, even if
+desirable, to quote any authorities. The statements of Smith and
+Beverley, are, however, chiefly relied upon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+    "And will you rend our ancient love asunder,
+    And join with men in scorning your poor friend."
+                                  _Midsummer Night's Dream._
+
+
+While Virginia was thus engaged, she was surprised by hearing a light
+step behind her, and looking up she saw Hansford pale and agitated,
+standing in the room.
+
+"What in the world is the matter?" she cried, alarmed at his appearance;
+"have the Indians--"
+
+"No, dearest, the Indians are far away ere this. But alas! there are
+other enemies to our peace than they."
+
+"What do you mean?" she said, "speak! why do you thus agitate me by
+withholding what you would say."
+
+"My dear Virginia," replied her lover, "do you not remember that I told
+you last night that I had something to communicate, which would surprise
+and grieve you. I cannot expect you to understand or appreciate fully my
+motives. But you can at least hear me patiently, and by the memory of
+our love, by the sacred seal of our plighted troth, I beg you to hear me
+with indulgence, if not forgiveness."
+
+"There are but few things, Hansford, that you could do," said Virginia,
+gravely, "that love would not teach me to forgive. Go on. I hear you
+patiently."
+
+"My story will be brief," said Hansford, "although it may involve sad
+consequences to me. I need only say, that I have felt the oppressions of
+the government, under which the colony is groaning; I have witnessed the
+duplicity and perfidy of Sir William Berkeley, and I have determined
+with the arm and heart of a man, to maintain the rights of a man."
+
+"What oppressions, what perfidy, what rights, do you mean?" said
+Virginia, turning pale with apprehension.
+
+"You can scarcely understand those questions dearest. But do you not
+know that the temporizing policy, the criminal delay of Berkeley, has
+already made the blood of Englishmen flow by the hand of savages. Even
+the agony which you this morning suffered, is due to the indirect
+encouragement given to the Indians by his fatal indulgence."
+
+"And you have proved false to your country," cried Virginia. "Oh!
+Hansford, for the sake of your honour, for the sake of your love, unsay
+the word which stains your soul with treason."
+
+"Nay, my own Virginia, understand me. I may be a rebel to my king. I may
+almost sacrifice my love, but I am true, ever true to my country. The
+day has passed, Virginia, when that word was so restricted in its
+meaning as to be confounded with the erring mortal, who should be its
+minister and not its tyrant. The blood of Charles the First has mingled
+with the blood of those brave martyrs who perished for liberty, and has
+thus cemented the true union between a prince and his people. It has
+given to the world, that useful lesson, that the sovereign is invested
+with his power, to protect, and not to destroy the rights of his people;
+that freemen may be restrained by wholesome laws, but that they are
+freemen still. That lesson, Sir William Berkeley must yet be taught. The
+patriot who dares to teach him, is at last, the truest lover of his
+country."
+
+"I scarcely know what you say," said the young girl, weeping, "but tell
+me, oh, tell me, have you joined your fortunes with a rebel?"
+
+"If thus you choose to term him who loves freedom better than chains,
+who would rather sacrifice life itself than to drag out a weary
+existence beneath the galling yoke of oppression, I have. I know you
+blame me. I know you hate me now," he added, in a sad voice, "but while
+it was my duty, as a freeman and a patriot, to act thus, it was also my
+duty, as an honourable man, to tell you all. You remember the last lines
+of our favourite song,
+
+    "I had not loved thee dear, so much,
+    Loved I not honour more."
+
+"Alas! I remember the words but too well," replied Virginia, sadly, "but
+I had been taught that the honour there spoken of, was loyalty to a
+king, not treason. Oh, Hansford, forgive me, but how can I, reared as I
+have been, with such a father, how can I"--she hesitated, unable to
+complete the fatal sentence.
+
+"I understand you," said Hansford. "But one thing then remains undone.
+The proscribed rebel must be an outlaw to Virginia Temple's heart. The
+trial is a sore one, but even this sacrifice can I make to my beloved
+country. Thus then I give you back your troth. Take it--take it," he
+cried, and with one hand covering his eyes, he seemed with the other to
+tear from his heart some treasured jewel that refused to yield its
+place.
+
+The violence of his manner, even more than the fatal words he had
+spoken, alarmed Virginia, and with a wild scream, that rang through the
+old hall, she threw herself fainting upon his neck. The noise reached
+the ears of the party, who remained above stairs, and Colonel Temple,
+his wife, and Bernard, threw open the door and stood for a moment silent
+spectators of the solemn scene. There stood Hansford, his eye lit up
+with excitement, his face white as ashes, and his strong arm supporting
+the trembling form of the young girl, while with his other hand he was
+chafing her white temples, and smoothing back the long golden tresses
+that had fallen dishevelled over her face.
+
+"My child, my child," shrieked her mother, who was the first to speak,
+"what on earth is the matter?"
+
+"Yes, Hansford, in the devil's name, what is to pay?" said the old
+colonel. "Why, Jeanie," he added, taking the fair girl tenderly in his
+arms, "you are not half the heroine you were when the Indians were here.
+There now, that's a sweet girl, open your blue eyes and tell old father
+what is the matter."
+
+"Nothing, dear father," said Virginia, faintly, as she slowly opened her
+eyes. "I have been very foolish, that's all."
+
+"Nay, Jeanie, it takes more than nothing or folly to steal the bloom
+away from these rosy cheeks."
+
+"Perhaps the young gentleman can explain more easily," said Bernard,
+fixing his keen eyes on his rival. "A little struggle, perhaps, between
+love and loyalty."
+
+"Mr. Bernard, with all his shrewdness, would probably profit by the
+reflection," said Hansford, coldly, "that as a stranger here, his
+opinions upon a matter of purely family concern, are both unwelcome and
+impertinent."
+
+"May be so," replied Bernard with a sneer; "but scarcely more unwelcome
+than the gross and continued deception practised by yourself towards
+those who have honoured you with their confidence."
+
+Hansford, stung by the remark, laid his hand upon his sword, but was
+withheld by Colonel Temple, who cried out with impatience,
+
+"Why, what the devil do you mean? Zounds, it seems to me that my house
+is bewitched to-day. First those cursed Indians, with their infernal
+yells, threatening death and destruction to all and sundry; then my
+daughter here, playing the fool before my face, according to her own
+confession; and lastly, a couple of forward boys picking a quarrel with
+one another after a few hours' acquaintance. Damn it, Tom, you were wont
+to have a plain tongue in your head. Tell me, what is the matter?"
+
+"My kind old friend," said Hansford, with a tremulous voice, "I would
+fain have reserved for your private ear, an explanation which is now
+rendered necessary by that insolent minion, whose impertinence had
+already received the chastisement it deserves, but for an unfortunate
+interruption."
+
+"Nay, Tom," said the Colonel, "no harsh words. Remember this young man
+is my guest, and as such, entitled to respect from all under my roof."
+
+"Well then, sir," continued Hansford, "this young lady's agitation was
+caused by the fact that I have lately pursued a course, which, while I
+believe it to be just and honourable, I fear will meet with but little
+favour in your eyes."
+
+"As much in the dark as ever," said the Colonel, perplexed beyond
+measure, for his esteem for Hansford prevented him from suspecting the
+true cause of his daughter's disquiet. "Damn it, man, Davus sum non
+OEdipus. Speak out plainly, and if your conduct has been, as you say,
+consistent with your honour, trust to an old friend to forgive you.
+Zounds, boy, I have been young myself, and can make allowance for the
+waywardness of youth. Been gaming a little too high, hey; well, the
+rest[19] was not so low in my day, but that I can excuse that, if you
+didn't 'pull down the side.'"[20]
+
+"I would fain do the young man a service, for I bear him no ill-will,
+though he has treated me a little harshly," said Bernard, as he saw
+Hansford silently endeavouring to frame a reply in the most favourable
+terms, "I see he is ashamed of his cause, and well he may be; for you
+must know that he has become a great man of late, and has linked his
+fate to a certain Nathaniel Bacon."
+
+The old loyalist started as he heard this unexpected announcement, then
+with a deep sigh, which seemed to come from his very soul, he turned to
+Hansford and said, "My boy, deny the foul charge; say it is not so."
+
+"It is, indeed, true," replied Hansford, mournfully, "but when--"
+
+"But when the devil!" cried the old man, bursting into a fit of rage;
+"and you expect me to stand here and listen to your justification.
+Zounds, sir, I would feel like a traitor myself to hear you speak. And
+this is the serpent that I have warmed and cherished at my hearth-stone.
+Out of my house, sir!"
+
+"To think," chimed in Mrs. Temple, for once agreeing fully with her
+husband, "how near our family, that has always prided itself on its
+loyalty, was being allied to a traitor. But he shall never marry
+Virginia, I vow."
+
+"No, by God," said the enraged loyalist; "she should rot in her grave
+first."
+
+"Miss Temple is already released from her engagement," said Hansford,
+recovering his calmness in proportion as the other party lost their's.
+"She is free to choose for herself, sir."
+
+"And that choice shall never light on you, apostate," cried Temple,
+"unless she would bring my grey hairs in sorrow to the grave."
+
+"And mine, too," said the old lady, beginning to weep.
+
+"I will not trouble you longer with my presence," said Hansford,
+proudly, "except to thank you for past kindness, which I can never
+forget. Farewell, Colonel Temple, I respect your prejudices, though they
+have led you to curse me. Farewell, Mrs. Temple, I will ever think of
+your generous hospitality with gratitude. Farewell, Virginia, forget
+that such a being as Thomas Hansford ever darkened your path through
+life, and think of our past love as a dream. I can bear your
+forgetfulness, but not your hate. For you, sir," he added, turning to
+Alfred Bernard, "let me hope that we will meet again, where no
+interruption will prevent our final separation."
+
+With these words, Hansford, his form proudly erect, but his heart bowed
+down with sorrow, slowly left the house.
+
+"Are you not a Justice of the Peace?" asked Bernard, with a meaning
+look.
+
+"And what is that to you, sir?" replied the old man, suspecting the
+design of the question.
+
+"Only, sir, that as such it is your sworn duty to arrest that traitor. I
+know it is painful, but still it is your duty."
+
+"And who the devil told you to come and teach me my duty, sir?" said the
+old man, wrathfully. "Let me tell you, sir, that Tom Hansford, with all
+his faults, is a d--d sight better than a great many who are free from
+the stain of rebellion. Rebellion!--oh, my God!--poor, poor Tom."
+
+"Nay, then, sir," said Bernard, meekly, "I beg your pardon. I only felt
+it my duty to remind you of what you might have forgotten. God forbid
+that I should wish to endanger the life of a poor young man, whose only
+fault may be that he was too easily led away by others."
+
+"You are right, by God," said the Colonel, quickly. "He is the victim of
+designing men, and yet I never said a word to reclaim him. Oh, I have
+acted basely and not like a friend. I will go now and bring him back,
+wife; though if he don't repent--zounds!--neither will I; no, not for a
+million friends."
+
+So saying, the noble-hearted old loyalist, whose impulsive nature was as
+prompt to redeem as to commit an error, started from the room to reclaim
+his lost boy. It was too late. Hansford, anticipating the result of the
+fatal revelation, had ordered his horse even before his first interview
+with Virginia. The old Colonel only succeeded in catching a glimpse of
+him from the porch, as at a full gallop he disappeared through the
+forest.
+
+With a heavy sigh he returned to the study, there to meet with the
+consolations of his good wife, which were contained in the following
+words:
+
+"Well, I hope and trust he is gone, and will never darken our doors
+again. You know, my dear, I always told you that you were wrong about
+that young man, Hansford. There always seemed to be a lack of frankness
+and openness in his character, and although I do not like to interpose
+my objections, yet I never altogether approved of the match. You know I
+always told you so."
+
+"Told the devil!" cried the old man, goaded to the very verge of despair
+by this new torture. "I beg your pardon, Bessy, for speaking so hastily,
+but, damn it, if all the angels in Heaven had told me that Tom Hansford
+could prove a traitor, I would not have believed it."
+
+And how felt she, that wounded, trusting one, who thus in a short day
+had seen the hopes and dreams of happiness, which fancy had woven in her
+young heart, all rudely swept away! 'Twere wrong to lift the veil from
+that poor stricken heart, now torn with grief too deep for words--too
+deep, alas! for tears. With her cheek resting on her white hand, she
+gazed tearlessly, but vacantly, towards the forest where he had so
+lately vanished as a dream. To those who spoke to her, she answered
+sadly in monosyllables, and then turned her head away, as if it were
+still sweet to cherish thus the agony which consumed her. But the
+bitterest drop in all this cup of woe, was the self-reproach which
+mingled with her recollection of that sad scene. When he had frankly
+given back her troth, she, alas! had not stayed his hand, nor by a word
+had told him how truly, even in his guilt, her heart was his. And now,
+she thought, when thus driven harshly into the cold world, his only
+friends among the enemies to truth, his enemies its friends, how one
+little word of love, or even of pity, might have redeemed him from
+error, or at least have cheered him in his dark career.
+
+But bear up bravely, sweet one; for heavier, darker sorrows yet must
+cast their shadows on thy young heart, ere yet its warm pulsations cease
+to beat, and it be laid at rest.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[19] Rest was the prescribed limit to the size of the venture.
+
+[20] To pull down the side was a technical term with our ancestors for
+cheating.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+    "Wounded in both my honour and my love;
+      They have pierced me in two tender parts.
+    Yet, could I take my just revenge,
+      It would in some degree assuage my smart."
+                                          _Vanbrugh._
+
+
+It was at an early hour on the following morning that the queer old
+chariot of Colonel Temple--one of the few, by the way, which wealth had
+as yet introduced into the colony--was drawn up before the door. The two
+horses of the gentlemen were standing ready saddled and bridled, in the
+care of the hostler. In a few moments, the ladies, all dressed for the
+journey, and the gentlemen, with their heavy spurs, long, clanging
+swords, and each with a pair of horseman's pistols, issued from the
+house into the yard. The old lady, declaring that they were too late,
+and that, if her advice had been taken, they would have been half way to
+Jamestown, was the first to get into the carriage, armed with a huge
+basket of bread, beef's tongue, cold ham and jerked venison, which was
+to supply the place of dinner on the road. Virginia, pale and sad, but
+almost happy at any change from scenes where every object brought up
+some recollection of the banished Hansford, followed her mother; and the
+large trunk having been strapped securely behind the carriage, and the
+band-box, containing the old lady's tire for the ball and other light
+articles of dress, having been secured, the little party were soon in
+motion.
+
+The hope and joy with which Virginia had looked forward to this trip to
+Jamestown had been much enhanced by the certainty that Hansford would be
+there. With the joyousness of her girlish heart, she had pictured to
+herself the scene of pleasure and festivity which awaited her. The Lady
+Frances' birth-day, always celebrated at the palace with the voice of
+music and the graceful dance--with the presence of the noblest cavaliers
+from all parts of the colony, and the smiles of the fairest damsels who
+lighted the society of the Old Dominion--was this year to be celebrated
+with unusual festivities. But, alas! how changed were the feelings of
+Virginia now!--how blighted were the hopes which had blossomed in her
+heart!
+
+Their road lay for the most part through a beautiful forest, where the
+tall poplar, the hickory, the oak and the chestnut were all indigenous,
+and formed an avenue shaded by their broad branches from the intense
+rays of the summer sun. Now and then the horses were startled at the
+sudden appearance of some fairy-footed deer, as it bounded lightly but
+swiftly through the woods; or at the sudden whirring of the startled
+pheasant, as she flew from their approach; or the jealous gobble of the
+stately turkey, as he led his strutting dames into his thicket-harem.
+The nimble grey squirrel, too, chattered away saucily in his high leafy
+nest, secure from attack from his very insignificance. Birds innumerable
+were seen flitting from branch to branch, and tuning their mellow voices
+as choristers in this forest-temple of Nature. The song of the thrush
+and the red-bird came sweetly from the willows, whose weeping branches
+overhung the neighbouring banks of a broad stream; the distant dove
+joined her mournful melody to their cheerful notes, and the woodpecker,
+on the blasted trunk of some stricken oak, tapped his rude bass in
+unison with the happy choir of the forest.
+
+All this Virginia saw and heard, and _felt_--yes, felt it all as a
+bitter mockery: as if, in these joyous bursts from the big heart of
+Nature, she were coldly regardless of the sorrows of those, her
+children, who had sought their happiness apart; as though the avenging
+Creator had given man naught but the bitter fruit of that fatal tree of
+knowledge, while he lavished with profusion on all the rest of his
+creation the choicest fruits that flourished in His paradise.
+
+In vain did Bernard, with his soft and winning voice, point out these
+beauties to Virginia. In vain, with all the rich stores of his gifted
+mind, did he seek to alienate her thoughts from the one subject that
+engrossed them. She scarcely heard what he said, and when at length
+urged by the impatient nudges of her mother to answer, she showed by her
+absence of mind how faint had been the impression which he made. A
+thousand fears for the safety of her lover mingled with her thoughts.
+Travelling alone in that wild country, with hostile Indians infesting
+the colony, what, alas! might be his fate! Or even if he should escape
+these dangers, still, in open arms against his government, proclaimed a
+rebel by the Governor, a more horrible destiny might await him. And then
+the overwhelming thought came upon her, that be his fate in other
+respects what it might--whether he should fall by the cruelty of the
+savage, the sword of the enemy, or, worst of all, by the vengeance of
+his indignant country--to her at least he was lost forever.
+
+Avoiding carefully any reference to the subject of her grief, and
+bending his whole mind to the one object of securing her attention,
+Alfred Bernard endeavored to beguile her with graphic descriptions of
+the scenes he had left in England. He spoke--and on such subjects none
+could speak more charmingly--of the brilliant society of wits, and
+statesmen, and beauties, which clustered together in the metropolis and
+the palace of the restored Stuart. Passing lightly over the vices of the
+court, he dwelt upon its pageantry, its wit, its philosophy, its poetry.
+The talents of the gay and accomplished, but vicious Rochester, were no
+more seen dimmed in their lustre by his faithlessness to his wife, or
+his unprincipled vices in the _beau monde_ of London. Anecdote after
+anecdote, of Waller, of Cowley, of Dryden, flowed readily from his lips.
+The coffee-houses were described, where wit and poetry, science and art,
+politics and religion, were discussed by the first intellects of the
+age, and allured the aspiring youth of England from the vices of
+dissipation, that they might drink in rich draughts of knowledge from
+these Pierian springs. The theatre, the masque, the revels, which the
+genial rays of the Restoration had once more warmed into life, next
+formed the subjects of his conversation. Then passing from this picture
+of gay society, he referred to the religious discussions of the day. His
+eye sparkled and his cheek glowed as he spoke of the triumphs of the
+established Church over puritanical heresy; and his lip curled, and he
+laughed satirically, as he described the heroic sufferings of some
+conscientious Baptist, dragged at the tail of a cart, and whipped from
+his cell in Newgate to Tyburn hill. Gradually did Virginia's thoughts
+wander from the one sad topic which had engrossed them, and by
+imperceptible degrees, even unconsciously to herself, she became deeply
+interested in his discourse. Her mother, whom the wily Bernard took
+occasion ever and anon, to propitiate with flattery, was completely
+carried away, and in the inmost recesses of her heart a hope was
+hatched that the eloquent young courtier would soon take the place of
+the rebel Hansford, in the affections of her daughter.
+
+We have referred to a stream, along whose forest-banks their road had
+wound. That stream was the noble York, whose broad bosom, now broader
+and more beautiful than ever, lay full in their view, and on which the
+duck, the widgeon and the gull were quietly floating. Here and there
+could be seen the small craft of some patient fisherman, as it stood
+anchored at a little distance from the shore, its white sail shrouding
+the solitary mast; and at an opening in the woods, about a mile ahead,
+rose the tall masts of an English vessel, riding safely in the broad
+harbour of Yorktown--then the commercial rival of Jamestown in the
+colony.
+
+The road now became too narrow for the gentlemen any longer to ride by
+the side of the carriage, and at the suggestion of the Colonel, an
+arrangement was adopted by which he should lead the little party in
+front, while Bernard should bring up the rear. This precaution was the
+more necessary, as the abrupt banks of the river, with the dense bushes
+which grew along them, was a safe lurking place for any Indians who
+might be skulking about the country.
+
+"A very nice gentleman, upon my word," said Mrs. Temple, when Alfred
+Bernard was out of hearing. "Virginia, don't you like him?"
+
+"Yes, very much, as far as I have an opportunity of judging."
+
+"His information is so extensive, his views so correct, his conversation
+so delightful. Don't you think so?"
+
+"Yes, mother," replied Virginia.
+
+"Yes, mother! Why don't you show more spirit?" said her mother. "There
+you sat moping in the carriage the whole way, looking for all the world
+as if you didn't understand a word he was saying. That isn't right, my
+dear; you should look up and show more spirit--d'ye hear!"
+
+"You mistake,mother; I did enjoy the ride very much, and found Mr.
+Bernard very agreeable."
+
+"Well, but you were so lack-a-daisical and yea, nay, in your manner to
+him. How do you expect a young man to feel any interest in you, if you
+never give him any encouragement?"
+
+"Why, mother, I don't suppose Mr. Bernard takes any more interest in me
+than he would in any casual acquaintance; and, indeed, if he did, I
+certainly cannot return it. But I will try and cheer up, and be more
+agreeable for your sake."
+
+"That's right, my dear daughter; remember that your old mother knows
+what is best for you, and she will never advise you wrong. I think it is
+very plain that this young gentleman has taken a fancy to you already,
+and while I would not have you too pert and forward, yet it is well
+enough to show off, and, in a modest way, do everything to encourage
+him. You know I always said, my dear, that you were too young when you
+formed an attachment for that young Hansford, and that you did not know
+your own heart, and now you see I was right."
+
+Virginia did not see that her mother was right, but she was too well
+trained to reply; and so, without a word, she yielded herself once more
+to her own sad reflections, and, true-hearted girl that she was, she
+soon forgot the fascinations of Alfred Bernard in her memory of
+Hansford.
+
+They had not proceeded far, when Bernard saw, seated on the trunk of a
+fallen tree, the dusky form of a young Indian, whom he soon recognized
+as the leader of the party who the day before had made the attack upon
+Windsor Hall. The interest which he felt in this young man, whose early
+history he had heard, combined with a curiosity to converse with one of
+the strange race to which he belonged, and, as will be seen, a darker
+motive and a stronger reason than either, induced Bernard to rein up his
+horse, and permitting his companions to proceed some distance in front,
+to accost the young Indian. Alfred Bernard, by nature and from
+education, was perfectly fearless, though he lacked the magnanimity
+which, united with fearlessness, constitutes bravery. Laying his hand on
+his heart, which, as he had already learned, was the friendly salutation
+used with and toward the savages, he rode slowly towards Manteo. The
+young Indian recognized the gesture which assured him of his friendly
+intent, and rising from his rude seat, patiently waited for him to
+speak.
+
+"I would speak to you," said Bernard.
+
+"Speak on."
+
+"Are you entirely alone?"
+
+"Ugh," grunted Manteo, affirmatively.
+
+"Where are those who were with you at Windsor Hall?"
+
+"Gone to Delaware,[21] to Matchicomoco."[22]
+
+"Why did you not go with them?" asked Bernard.
+
+"Manteo love long-knife--Pamunkey hate Manteo--drive him away from his
+tribe," said the young savage, sorrowfully.
+
+The truth flashed upon Bernard at once. This young savage, who, in a
+moment of selfish ambition, for his own personal advancement, had
+withheld the vengeance of his people, was left by those whom he had once
+led, as no longer worthy of their confidence. In the fate of this
+untutored son of the forest, the young courtier had found a sterner
+rebuke to selfishness and ambition than he had ever seen in the court of
+the monarch of England.
+
+"And so you are alone in the world now?" said Bernard.
+
+"Ugh!"
+
+"With nothing to hope or to live for?"
+
+"One hope left," said Manteo, laying his hand on his tomahawk.
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"Revenge."
+
+"On whom?"
+
+"On long-knives and Pamunkeys."
+
+"If you live for revenge," said Bernard, "we live for nearly the same
+object. You may trust me--I will be your friend. Do you know me?"
+
+"No!" said Manteo, shaking his head.
+
+"Well, I know you," said Bernard. "Now, what if I help you to the sweet
+morsel of revenge you speak of?"
+
+"I tank you den."
+
+"Do you know your worst enemy?"
+
+"Manteo!"
+
+"How--why so?"
+
+"I make all my oder enemy."
+
+"Nay, but I know an enemy who is even worse than yourself, because he
+has made you your own enemy. One who oppresses your race, and is even
+now making war upon your people. I mean Thomas Hansford."
+
+"Ugh!" said Manteo, with more surprise than he had yet manifested; and
+for once, leaving his broken English, he cried in his own tongue,
+"Ahoaleu Virginia." (He loves Virginia Temple.)
+
+"And do you?" said Bernard, guessing at his meaning, and marking with
+surprise the more than ordinary feeling with which Manteo had uttered
+these words.
+
+"See dere," replied Manteo, holding up an arrow, which he had already
+taken from his quiver, as if with the intention of fixing it to his
+bow-string. "De white crenepo,[23] de maiden, blunt Manteo's arrow when
+it would fly to her father's heart." At the same time he pointed towards
+the road along which the carriage had lately passed.
+
+"By the holy Virgin," muttered Bernard, "methinks the whole colony,
+Indians, negroes, and all, are going stark mad after this girl. And so
+you hate Hansford, then?" he said aloud.
+
+"No, I can't hate what she loves," replied Manteo, feelingly.
+
+"Why did you aid in attacking her father's house then, yesterday?"
+
+"Long-knives strike only when dey hate; Pamunkey fight from duty. If
+Manteo drop de tomahawk because he love, he is squaw, not a brave."
+
+"But this Hansford," said Bernard, "is in arms against your people, whom
+the government would protect."
+
+"Ugh!" grunted the young warrior. "Pamunkey want not long-knives'
+protect. De grand werowance of long-knives has cut down de peace tree
+and broke de pipe, and de tomahawk is now dug up. De grand werowance
+protect red man like eagle protect young hare."
+
+"Nay, but we would be friends with the Indians," urged Bernard. "We
+would share this great country with them, and Berkeley would be the
+great father of the Pamunkeys."
+
+The Indian looked with ineffable disdain on his companion, and then
+turning towards the river, he pointed to a large fish-hawk, who, with a
+rapid swoop, had caught in his talons a fish that had just bubbled above
+the water for breath, and borne him far away in the air.
+
+"See dere," said Manteo; "water belong to fish--hawk is fish's friend."
+
+Bernard saw that he had entirely mistaken the character of his
+companion. The vengeance of the Indians being once aroused, they failed
+to discriminate between the authors of the injuries which they had
+received, and those who sought to protect them; and they attributed to
+the great werowance of the long-knives (for so they styled the Governor
+of Virginia) all the blame of the attack and slaughter of the
+unoffending Susquehannahs. But the wily Bernard was not cast down by his
+ill success, in attempting to arouse the vengeance of Manteo against his
+rival.
+
+"Your sister is at the hall often, is she not?" he asked, after a brief
+pause.
+
+"Ugh," said the Indian, relapsing into this affirmative grunt.
+
+"So is Hansford--your sister knows him."
+
+"What of dat?"
+
+"Excuse me, my poor friend," said Bernard, "but I came to warn you that
+your sister knows him as she should not."
+
+The forest echoed with the wild yell that burst from the lips of Manteo
+at this cruel fabrication--so loud, so wild, so fearful, that the ducks
+which had been quietly basking in the sun, and admiring their graceful
+shadows in the water, were startled, and with an alarmed cry flew far
+away down the river.
+
+The Indian character, although still barbarous, had been much improved
+by association with the English. Respect for the female sex, and a
+scrupulous regard for female purity, which are ever the first results of
+dawning civilization, had already taken possession of the benighted
+souls of the Indians of Virginia. More especially was this so with the
+young Manteo, whose association with the whites, notwithstanding his
+strong devotion to his own race, had imparted more refinement and purity
+to his nature than was enjoyed by most of his tribe. Mamalis, the pure,
+the spotless Mamalis--she, whom from his earliest boyhood he had hoped
+to bestow on some young brave, who, foremost in the chase, or most
+successful in the ambuscade, could tell the story of his achievements
+among the chieftains at the council-fire--it was too much; the stern
+heart of the young Indian, though "trained from his tree-rocked cradle
+the fierce extremes of good and ill to bear," burst forth in a gush of
+agony, as he thus heard the fatal knell of all his pride and all his
+hope.
+
+Bernard was at first startled by the shriek, but soon regained his
+composure, and calm and composed regarded his victim. When at length the
+first violence of grief had subsided, he said, with a soft, mild voice,
+which fell fresh as dew upon the withered heart of the poor Indian,
+
+"I am sorry for you, my friend, but it is too true. And now, Manteo,
+what can be your only consolation?"
+
+"Revenge is de wighsacan[24] to cure dis wound," said the poor savage.
+
+"Right. This is the only food for brave and injured men. Well, we
+understand each other now--don't we?"
+
+"Ugh," grunted Manteo, with a look of satisfaction.
+
+"Very well," returned Bernard, "is your tomahawk sharp?"
+
+"It won't cut deep as dis wound, but I will sharpen it on my broken
+heart," replied Manteo, with a heavy sigh.
+
+"Right bravely said. And now farewell; I will help you as I can," said
+Alfred Bernard, as he turned and rode away, while the poor Indian sank
+down again upon his rude log seat, his head resting on his hands.
+
+"And this the world calls villainy!" mused Bernard, as he rode along.
+"But it is the weapon with which nature has armed the weak, that he may
+battle with the strong. For what purpose was the faculty of intrigue
+bestowed upon man, if it were not to be exercised? and, if exercised at
+all, why surely it can never be directed to a purer object than the
+accomplishment of good. Thus, then, what the croaking moralist calls
+evil, may always be committed if good be the result; and what higher
+good can be attained in life than happiness, and what purer happiness
+can there be than revenge? No man shall ever cross my path but once with
+safety, and this young Virginia rebel has already done so. He has shown
+his superior skill and courage with the sword, and has made me ask my
+life at his hands. Let him look to it that he may not have to plead for
+his own life in vain. This young Indian's thirst will not be quenched
+but with blood. By the way, a lucky hit was that. His infernal yell is
+sounding in my ears yet. But Hansford stands in my way besides. This
+fair young maiden, with her beauty, her intellect, and her land, may
+make my fortune yet; and who can blame the poor, friendless orphan, if
+he carve his way to honour and independence even through the blood of a
+rival. The poor, duped savage whom I just left, said that he was his own
+worst enemy; I am wiser in being my own best friend. Tell me not of the
+world--it is mine oyster, which I will open by my wits as well as by my
+sword. Prate not of morality and philanthropy. Man is a microcosm, a
+world within himself, and he only is a wise one who uses the world
+without for the success of the world within. Once supplant this Hansford
+in the love of his betrothed bride, and I succeed to the broad acres of
+Windsor Hall. Old Berkeley shall be the scaffolding by which I will rise
+to power and position, and when he rots down, the building I erect will
+be but the fairer for the riddance. Who recks the path which he has
+trod, when home and happiness are in view? What general thinks of the
+blood he has shed, when the shout of victory rings in his ears? Be true
+to yourself, Alfred Bernard, though false to all the world beside! At
+last, good father Bellini, thou hast taught me true wisdom--'Success
+sanctifies sin.'"
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[21] The name of the village at the confluence of Pamunkey and
+Mattapony, now called West Point.
+
+[22] Grand Council of the Indians.
+
+[23] A woman.
+
+[24] A root used by the Indians successfully in the cure of all wounds.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+    "Is this your joyous city, whose antiquity is of ancient days?"
+                                                              _Isaiah._
+
+        "One mouldering tower, o'ergrown with ivy, shows
+        Where first Virginia's capital arose,
+        And to the tourist's vision far withdrawn
+        Stands like a sentry at the gates of dawn.
+        The church has perished--faint the lines and dim
+        Of those whose voices raised the choral hymn,
+        Go read the record on the mossy stone,
+        'Tis brief and sad--oblivion claims its own!"
+                                        _Thompson's Virginia._
+
+
+The traveller, as he is borne on the bosom of the noble James, on the
+wheezing, grunting steamboat, may still see upon the bank of the river,
+a lonely ruin, which is all that now remains of the old church at
+Jamestown. Despite its loneliness and desolation, that old church has
+its memories, which hallow it in the heart of every Virginian. From its
+ruined chancel that "singular excellent" Christian and man, good Master
+Hunt, was once wont, in far gone times, to preach the gospel of peace to
+those stern old colonists, who in full armour, and ever prepared for
+Indian interruptions, listened with devout attention. There in the front
+pew, which stood nearest the chancel, had sat John Smith, whose sturdy
+nature and strong practical sense were alone sufficient to repel the
+invasion of heathen savages, and provide for the wants of a famishing
+colony. Yet, with all the sternness and rigour of his character, his
+heart was subdued by the power of religion, as he bowed in meek
+submission to its precepts, and relied with humble confidence upon its
+promises. The pure light of Heaven was reflected even from that strong
+iron heart. At that altar had once knelt a dusky but graceful form, the
+queenly daughter of a noble king; and, her savage nature enlightened by
+the rays of the Sun of righteousness, she had there received upon her
+royal brow the sacred sign of her Redeemer's cross. And many a dark eye
+was bedewed with tears, and many a strong heart was bowed in prayer, as
+the stout old colonists stood around, and saw the baptismal rite which
+sealed the profession and the faith of the brave, the beautiful, the
+generous Pocahontas.
+
+But while this old ruin thus suggests many an association with the olden
+time, there is nothing left to tell the antiquary of the condition and
+appearance of Jamestown, the first capital of Virginia. The island, as
+the narrow neck of land on which the town was built is still erroneously
+called, may yet be seen; but not a vestige of the simple splendour, with
+which colonial pride delighted to adorn it, remains to tell the story of
+its glory or destruction. And yet, to the eye and the heart of the
+colonist, this little town was a delight: for here were assembled the
+Governor and his council, who, with mimic pride, emulated the grandeur
+and the pageant of Whitehall. Here, too, were the burgesses congregated
+at the call of the Governor, who, with their stately wives and blooming
+daughters, contributed to the delight of the metropolitan society. Here,
+too, was the principal mart, where the planters shipped their tobacco
+for the English market, and received from home those articles of
+manufacture and those rarer delicacies which the colony was as yet
+unable to supply. And here, too, they received news from Europe, which
+served the old planters and prurient young statesmen with topics of
+conversation until the next arrival; while the young folks gazed with
+wonder and delight at the ship, its crew and passengers, who had
+actually been in that great old England of which they had heard their
+fathers talk so much.
+
+The town, like an old-fashioned sermon, was naturally divided into two
+parts. The first, which lay along the river, was chiefly devoted to
+commercial purposes--the principal resort of drunken seamen, and those
+land harpies who prey upon them for their own subsistence. Here were
+located those miserable tippling-houses, which the Assembly had so long
+and so vainly attempted to suppress. Here were the busy forwarding
+houses, with their dark counting-rooms, their sallow clerks, and their
+bills of lading. Here the shrewd merchant and the bluff sea-captain
+talked loudly and learnedly of the laws of trade, the restrictive policy
+of the navigation laws, and the growing importance of the commercial
+interests of the colony. And here was the immense warehouse, under the
+especial control of the government, with its hundreds of hogsheads of
+tobacco, all waiting patiently their turn for inspection; and the
+sweating negroes, tearing off the staves of the hogsheads to display the
+leaf to view, and then noisily hammering them together again, while the
+impatient inspector himself went the rounds and examined the wide spread
+plant, and adjudged its quality; proving at the same time his capacity
+as a connoisseur, by the enormous quid which he rolled pleasantly in his
+mouth.
+
+But it is the more fashionable part of the town, with which our story
+has to do; and here, indeed, even at this early day, wealth and taste
+had done much to adorn the place, and to add to the comfort of the
+inhabitants. At one end of the long avenue, which was known as Stuart
+street, in compliment to the royal family, was situated the palace of
+Sir William Berkeley. Out of his private means and the immense salary of
+his office, the governor had done much to beautify and adorn his
+grounds. A lawn, with its well shaven turf, stretched in front of the
+house for more than a hundred yards, traversed in various directions
+with white gravelled walks, laid out with much taste, and interspersed
+with large elms and poplars. In the centre of the lawn was a beautiful
+summer-house, over which the white jessamine and the honeysuckle,
+planted by Lady Frances' own hand, clambered in rich profusion. The
+house, itself, though if it still remained, it would seem rather quaint
+and old-fashioned, was still very creditable as a work of architecture.
+A long porch, or gallery, supported by simple Doric pillars, stretched
+from one end of it to the other, and gave an air of finish and beauty to
+the building. The house was built of brick, brought all the way from
+England, for although the colonists had engaged in the manufacture of
+brick to a certain extent, yet for many years after the time of which we
+write, they persisted in this extraordinary expense, in supplying the
+materials for their better class of buildings.
+
+At the other end of Stuart street was the state-house, erected in
+pursuance of an act, the preamble of which recites the disgrace of
+having laws enacted and judicial proceedings conducted in an ale-house.
+This building, like the palace, was surrounded by a green lawn,
+ornamented with trees and shrubbery, and enclosed by a handsome
+pale--midway the gate and the portico, on either side of the broad
+gravel walk, were two handsome houses, one of which was the residence of
+Sir Henry Chicherley, Vice-President of the Council, and afterwards
+deputy-governor upon the death of Governor Jeffreys. The other house was
+the residence of Thomas Ludwell, Secretary to the colony, and brother to
+Colonel Philip Ludwell, whose sturdy and unflinching loyalty during the
+rebellion, has preserved his name to our own times.
+
+The state-house, itself, was a large brick building, with two wings, the
+one occupied by the governor and his council, the other by the general
+court, composed indeed of the same persons as the council, but acting in
+a judicial capacity. The centre building was devoted to the House
+Burgesses exclusively, containing their hall, library, and apartments
+for different offices. The whole structure was surmounted by a queer
+looking steeple, resembling most one of those high, peaked hats, which
+Hogarth has placed on the head of Hudibras and his puritan compeers.
+
+Between the palace and the state-house, as we have said before, ran
+Stuart street, the thoroughfare of the little metropolis, well built up
+on either side with stores and the residences of the prominent citizens
+of the town. There was one peculiarity in the proprietors of these
+houses, which will sound strangely in the ears of their descendants.
+Accustomed to the generous hospitality of the present day, the reader
+may be surprised to learn that most of the citizens of old Jamestown
+entertained their guests from the country for a reasonable compensation;
+and so, when the gay cavalier from Stafford or Gloucester had passed a
+week among the gaieties or business of the metropolis,
+
+    He called for his horse and he asked for his way,
+    While the jolly old landlord cried "_Something_ to pay."
+
+But when we reflect that Jamestown was the general resort of persons
+from all sections of the colony, and that the tavern accommodations were
+but small, we need not be surprised at a state of things so different
+from the glad and gratuitous welcome of our own day.
+
+Such, briefly and imperfectly described, was old Jamestown, the first
+capital of Virginia, as it appeared in 1676, to the little party of
+travellers, whose fortunes we have been following, as they rode into
+Stuart street, late in the evening of the day on which they left Windsor
+Hall. The arrival, as is usual in little villages, caused quite a
+sensation. The little knot of idlers that gathered about the porch of
+the only regular inn, desisted from whittling the store box, in the
+demolishing of which they had been busily engaged--and looked up with
+an impertinent stare at the new comers. Mine host bustled about as the
+carriage drove up before the door, and his jolly red face grew redder by
+his vociferous calls for servants. In obedience to his high behest, the
+servants came--the hostler, an imported cockney, to examine the points
+of the horses committed to his care, and to measure his provender by
+their real worth; the pretty Scotch chambermaid to conduct the ladies to
+their respective rooms, and a brisk and dapper little French barber to
+attack the colonel vehemently with a clothes-brush, as though he had
+hostile designs upon the good man's coat.
+
+Bernard, in the meantime, having promised to come for Virginia, and
+escort her to the famous birth-night ball, rode slowly towards the
+palace; now and then casting a haughty glance around him on those worthy
+gossips, who followed his fine form with their admiring eyes, and
+whispered among themselves that "Some folks was certainly born to luck;
+for look ye, Gaffer, there is a young fribble, come from the Lord knows
+where, and brought into the colony to be put over the heads of many
+worthier; and for all he holds his head so high, and sneers so mighty
+handsome with his lip, who knows what the lad may be. The great folk aye
+make a warm nest for their own bastards, and smooth the outside of the
+blanket as softly as the in, while honester folks must e'en rough it in
+frieze and Duffield. But na'theless, I say nothing, neighbor."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+    "There was a sound of revelry by night--
+      And Belgium's capital had gathered then
+    Her beauty and her chivalry; and bright
+      The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men;
+    A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
+      Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
+    Soft eyes looked love to eyes that spoke again,
+      And all went merry as a marriage bell."
+                                      _Childe Harold._
+
+
+The ball at Sir William Berkeley's palace was of that character, which,
+in the fashionable world, is described as brilliant; and was long
+remembered by those who attended it, as the last scene of revelry that
+was ever known in Jamestown. The park or lawn which we have described
+was brilliantly illuminated with lamps and transparencies hung from the
+trees. The palace itself was a perfect blaze of light. The coaches of
+the cavaliers rolled in rapid succession around the circular path that
+led to the palace, and deposited their fair burdens, and then rolled
+rapidly away to await the breaking up of the ball. Young beaux, fairly
+glittering with gold embroidery, with their handsome doublets looped
+with the gayest ribbons, and their hair perfumed and oiled, and plaited
+at the sides in the most captivating love-knots; their cheeks
+beplastered with rouge, and their moustache carefully trimmed and
+brushed, passed gracefully to and fro, through the vast hall, and looked
+love to soft eyes that spake again. And those young eyes, how brightly
+did they beam, and how freshly did the young cheeks of their lovely
+owners blush, even above the rouge with which they were painted, as
+they met the admiring glance of some favored swain bent lovingly upon
+them! How graceful, too, the attitude which these fair maidens assumed,
+with their long trails sweeping and fairly carpetting the floor, or when
+held up by their tapering fingers, how proudly did they step, as they
+crossed the room to salute the stately and dignified, but now smiling
+Lady Frances Berkeley--and she the queenly centre of that vast throng,
+leaning upon the arm of her noble and venerable husband, with what grace
+and dignity she bowed her turbaned head in response to their
+salutations; and with what a majestic air of gratified vanity did she
+receive the courteous gratulations of the chivalrous cavaliers as they
+wished her many returns of the happy day, and hoped that the hours of
+her life would be marked by the lapse of diamond sands, while roses grew
+under her feet!
+
+Sir William Berkeley, of whose extraordinary character we know far more
+than of any of the earlier governors of Virginia, was now in the evening
+of his long and prosperous life. "For more than thirty years he had
+governed the most flourishing country the sun ever shone upon,"[25] and
+had won for himself golden opinions from all sorts of people. Happy for
+him, and happy for his fame, if he had passed away ere he had become
+"encompassed," as he himself expresses it, "with rebellion, like
+waters." To all he had endeared himself by his firmness of character and
+his suavity of manner. In 1659, he was called, by the spontaneous
+acclaim of the people of Virginia, to assume the high functions of the
+government, of which he had been deprived during the Protectorate, and,
+under his lead, Virginia was the first to throw off her allegiance to
+the Protector, and to declare herself the loyal realm of the banished
+Charles. Had William Berkeley died before the troublous scenes which now
+awaited him, and which have cast so dark a shadow upon his character,
+scarce any man in colonial history had left so pure a name, or been
+mourned by sincerer tears. Death is at last the seal of fame, and over
+the grave alone can we form a just estimate of human worth and human
+virtue.
+
+In person he was all that we delight to imagine in one who is truly
+great. Age itself had not bent his tall, majestic figure, which rose,
+like the form of the son of Kish, above all the people. His full black
+eye was clear and piercing, and yet was often softened by a benevolent
+expression. And this was the true nature of his heart, formed at once
+for softness and for rigour. His mouth, though frequently a pleasant
+smile played around it, expressed the inflexible firmness and decision
+of his character. No man to friends was more kind and gentle; no man to
+a foe was more relentless and vindictive. The only indication of
+approaching age was in the silver colour of his hair, which he did not
+conceal with the recently introduced periwig, and which, combed back to
+show to its full advantage his fine broad brow, fell in long silvery
+clusters over his shoulders.
+
+Around him were gathered the prominent statesmen of the colony, members
+of the Council and of the House of Burgesses, conversing on various
+subjects of political interest. Among those who chose this rational mode
+of entertainment was our old friend, Colonel Henry Temple, who met many
+an old colleague among the guests, and everywhere received the respect
+and attention which his sound sense, his sterling worth, and his former
+services so richly deserved.
+
+The Lady Frances, too, withdrawing her arm from that of her husband,
+engaged in elegant conversation with the elderly dames who sought her
+society; now conversing with easy dignity with the accomplished wives of
+the councillors; now, with high-bred refinement, overlooking the awkward
+blunders of some of the plainer matrons, whose husbands were in the
+Assembly; and now smiling good-humouredly at the old-fashioned vanity
+and assumed dignity of Mrs. Temple. The comparison of the present order
+of things with that to which she had been accustomed in her earlier
+days, formed, as usual, the chief theme of this good lady's discourse.
+But, to the attentive observer, the glance of pride with which from time
+to time she looked at her daughter, who, with graceful step and glowing
+cheek, was joining in the busy dance, plainly showed that, in some
+respects at least, Mrs. Temple had to acknowledge that the bright
+present had even eclipsed her favourite past.
+
+Yes, to the gay sound of music, amid the bright butterflies of fashion,
+who flew heartlessly through the mazes of the graceful dance, Virginia
+Temple moved--with them, but not of them. She had not forgotten
+Hansford, but she had forgotten self, and, determined to please her
+mother, she had sought to banish from her heart, for the time, the
+sorrow which was still there. She had come to the ball with Bernard, and
+he, seeing well the effort she had made, bent all the powers of his
+gifted mind to interest her thoughts, and beguile them from the
+absorbing subject of her grief. She attributed his efforts to a generous
+nature, and thanked him in her heart for thus devoting himself to her
+pleasure. She had attempted to return his kindness by an assumed
+cheerfulness, which gradually became real and natural, for shadows rest
+not long upon a young heart. They fly from the blooming garden of youth,
+and settle themselves amid the gloom and ruins of hoary age. And never
+had Alfred Bernard thought the fair girl more lovely, as, with just
+enough of pensive melancholy to soften and not to sadden her heart, she
+moved among the gay and thoughtless throng around her.
+
+The room next to the ball-room was appropriated to such of the guests as
+chose to engage in cards and dice; for in this, as in many other
+respects, the colony attempted to imitate the vices of the mother
+country. It is true the habit of gaming was not so recklessly
+extravagant as that which disgraced the corrupt court of Charles the
+Second, and yet the old planters were sufficiently bold in their risks,
+and many hundreds of pounds of tobacco often hung upon the turn of the
+dice-box or the pip[26] of a card. Seated around the old fashioned
+card-table of walnut, were sundry groups of those honest burgesses, who
+were ready enough in the discharge of their political functions in the
+state-house, but after the adjournment were fully prepared for all kinds
+of fun. Some were playing at gleek, and, to the uninitiated,
+incomprehensible was the jargon in which the players indulged. "Who'll
+buy the stock?" cries the dealer. "I bid five"--"and I ten"--"and I
+fifty." Vie, revie, surrevie, capote, double capote, were the terms that
+rang through the room, as the excited gamesters, with anxious faces,
+sorted and examined their cards. At another table was primero, or
+thirty-one, a game very much resembling the more modern game of
+vingt-et-un; and here, too, loud oaths of "damn the luck," escaped the
+lips of the betters, as, with twenty-two in their hands, they drew a
+ten, and burst with a pip too many. Others were moderate in their risks,
+rattled the dice at tra-trap, and playing for only an angel a game,
+smoked their pipes sociably together, and talked of the various measures
+before the Assembly.
+
+Thus the first hours of the evening passed rapidly away, when suddenly
+the sound of the rebecks[27] ceased in the ball-room, the gaming was
+arrested in an instant, and at the loud cry of hall-a-hall,[28] the
+whole company repaired to the long, broad porch, crowding and pushing
+each other, the unwary cavaliers treading on the long trains of the fair
+ladies, and receiving a well-merited frown for their carelessness. The
+object of this general rush was to see the masque, which was to be
+represented in the porch, illuminated and prepared for the purpose. At
+one end of the porch a stage was erected, with all the simple machinery
+which the ingenuity of the youth of Jamestown could devise, to aid in
+the representation--the whole concealed for the present from the view of
+the spectators by a green baize curtain.
+
+The object of the masque, imitated from the celebrated court masques of
+the seventeenth century, which reflected so much honour on rare Ben
+Jonson, and aided in establishing the early fame of John Milton, was to
+celebrate under a simple allegory the glories of the Restoration. Alfred
+Bernard, who had witnessed such a representation in England, first
+suggested the idea of thus honouring the birth-night of the Lady
+Frances, and the suggestion was eagerly taken hold of by the loyal young
+men of the little colonial capital, who rejoiced in any exhibition that
+might even faintly resemble the revels to which their loyal ancestors,
+before the revolution, were so ardently devoted.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[25] This is his own language.
+
+[26] Pip signified the spot on a card.
+
+[27] Fiddles.
+
+[28] The cry of the herald for silence at the beginning of the masque.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+    "Then help with your call
+    For a hall, a hall!
+    Stand up by the wall,
+    Both good-men and tall,
+    We are one man's all!"
+          _The Gipsey Metamorphosea._
+
+
+With the hope that a description of the sports and pastimes of their
+ancestors may meet with like favour from the reader, we subjoin the
+following account of this little masque which was prepared for the
+happy occasion by Alfred Bernard, aided by the grave chaplain, Arthur
+Hutchinson, and performed by some of the gay gallants and blooming
+damsels of old Jamestown. We flatly disclaim in the outset any
+participation in the resentment or contempt which was felt by these
+loyal Virginians towards the puritan patriots of the revolution.
+
+The curtain rises and discovers the genius of True Liberty, robed in
+white, with a wreath of myrtle around her brow; holding in her right
+hand a sceptre entwined with myrtle, as the emblem of peace, and in her
+left a sprig of evergreen, to represent the fabled Moly[29] of Ulysses.
+As she advances to slow and solemn music, she kneels at an altar clothed
+with black velvet, and raising her eyes to heaven, she exclaims:--
+
+    "How long, oh Heaven! shall power with impious hand
+    In cruel bondage bind proud Britain's land,
+    Or heresy in fair Religion's robe
+    Usurp her empire and control the globe!--
+    Hypocrisy in true Religion's name
+    Has filled the land of Britain long with shame,
+    And Freedom, captive, languishes in chains,
+    While with her sceptre, Superstition reigns.
+      Restore, oh Heaven! the reign of peace and love,
+    And let thy wisdom to thy people prove
+    That Freedom too is governed by her rules,--
+    No toy for children, and no game for fools;--
+    Freed from restraint the erring star would fly
+    Darkling, and guideless, through the untravelled sky--
+    The stubborn soil would still refuse to yield
+    The whitening harvest of the fertile field;
+    The wanton winds, when loosened from their caves,
+    Would drive the bark uncertain through the waves
+    This magnet lost, the sea, the air, the world,
+    To wild destruction would be swiftly hurled!
+    And say, just Heaven, oh say, is feeble man
+    Alone exempt from thy harmonious plan?
+    Shall he alone, in dusky darkness grope,
+    Free from restraint, and free, alas! from hope?
+    Slave to his passions, his unbridled will,
+    Slave to himself, and yet a freeman still?
+    No! teach him in his pride to own that he
+    Can only in obedience be free--
+    That even he can only safely move,
+    When true to loyalty, and true to love."
+
+As she speaks, a bright star appears at the farther end of the stage,
+and ascending slowly, at length stands over the altar, where she kneels.
+Extending her arm towards the star, she rises and cries in triumph:--
+
+    "I hail the sign, pure as the starry gem,
+    Which rested o'er the babe of Bethlehem--
+    My prayer is heard, and Heaven's sublime decree
+    Will rend our chains, and Britain shall be free!"
+
+Then enters the embodiment of Puritanism, represented in the peculiar
+dress of the Roundheads--with peaked hat, a quaint black doublet and
+cloak, rigidly plain, and cut in the straight fashion of the sect; black
+Flemish breeches, and grey hose; huge square-toed shoes, tied with
+coarse leather thongs; and around the waist a buff leather belt, in
+which he wears a sword. He comes in singing, as he walks, one of the
+Puritan versions, or rather perversions of the Psalms, which have so
+grossly marred the exquisite beauty of the original, and of which one
+stanza will suffice the reader:--
+
+    "Arise, oh Lord, save me, my God,
+    For thou my foes hast stroke,
+    All on the cheek-bone, and the teeth
+    Of wicked men hast broke."[30]
+
+Then standing at some distance from the altar, he rolls up his eyes,
+till nothing but the whites can be seen, and is exercised in prayer.
+With a smile of bitter contempt the genius of True Liberty proceeds:--
+
+    "See where he comes, with visage long and grim,
+    Whining with nasal twang his impious hymn!
+    See where he stands, nor bows the suppliant knee,
+    He apes the Publican, but acts the Pharisee--
+    Snatching the sword of just Jehovah's wrath,
+    And damning all who leave _his_ thorny path.
+      Now by this wand which Hermes, with a smile,
+    Gave to Ulysses in the Circean isle,
+    I will again exert the power divine,
+    And change to Britons these disgusting swine."
+
+She waves the sprig of Moly over the head of the Puritan three or four
+times, who, sensible of the force of the charm, cries out:--
+
+    "Hah! what is this! strange feelings fill my heart;
+    Avaunt thee, tempter! I defy thy art--
+    Up, Israel! hasten to your tents, and smite
+    These sons of Belial, and th' Amalekite,--
+    Philistia is upon us with Goliah,
+    Come, call the roll from twelfth of Nehemiah,[31]
+    Gird up your loins and buckle on your sword,
+    Fight with your prayers, your powder, and the word.
+    How, General 'Faint-not,'[32] has your spirit sunk?
+    Let not God's soldier yield unto a Monk."[33]
+
+Then, as the charm increases, he continues in a feebler voice:
+
+    "Curse on the tempter's art! that heathenish Moly
+    Has in an instant changed my nature wholly;
+    The past, with all its triumphs, is a trance,
+    My legs, once taught to kneel, incline to dance,
+    My voice, which to some holy psalm belongs,
+    Is twisting round into these carnal songs.
+    Alas! I'm lost! New thoughts my bosom swell;
+    Habakuk, Barebones, Cromwell, fare ye well.
+    Break up conventicles, I do insist,
+    Sing the doxology and be dismissed."
+
+As he finishes the last line, the heavy roll of thunder is heard, and
+suddenly the doors of a dungeon in the background fly open, from which
+emerges the impersonation of Christmas, followed by the Queen of May.
+Christmas is represented by a jolly, round-bellied, red-nosed, laughing
+old fellow, dressed in pure white. His hair is thickly powdered, and his
+face red with rouge. In his right hand he holds a huge mince-pie, which
+ever and anon he gnaws with exquisite humour, and in his left is a bowl
+of generous wassail, from which he drinks long and deeply. His brows are
+twined with misletoe and ivy, woven together in a fantastic wreath, and
+to his hair and different parts of his dress are attached long pendants
+of glass, to represent icicles. As he advances to the right of the
+stage, there descends from the awning above an immense number of small
+fragments of white paper, substitutes for snow-flakes, with which that
+part of the floor is soon completely covered.
+
+The Queen of May takes her position on the left. She is dressed in a
+robe of pure white, festooned with flowers, with a garland of white
+roses twined with evergreen upon her brow. In her hand is held the
+May-pole, adorned with ribbons of white, and blue, and red, alternately
+wrapped around it, and surmounted with a wreath of various flowers. As
+she assumes her place, showers of roses descend from above, envelope her
+in their bloom, and shed a fresh fragrance around the room.
+
+The Genius of Liberty points out the approaching figures to the Puritan,
+and exclaims:
+
+    "Welcome, ye happy children of the earth,
+    Who strew life's weary way with guileless mirth!
+    Thus Joy should ever herald in the morn
+    On which the Saviour of the world was born,
+    And thus with rapture should we ever bring
+    Fresh flowers to twine around the brow of Spring.
+    Think not, stern mortal, God delights to scan,
+    With fiendish joy, the miseries of man;
+    Think not the groans that rend your bosom here
+    Are music to Jehovah's listening ear.
+    Formed by His power, the children of His love,
+    Man's happiness delights the Sire above;
+    While the light mirth which from his spirit springs
+    Ascends like incense to the King of kings."
+
+Christmas, yawning and stretching himself, then roars out in a merry,
+lusty voice:
+
+    "My spirit rejoices to hear merry voices,
+      With a prospect of breaking my fast,
+    For with such a lean platter, these days they call latter[34]
+      Were very near being my last.
+
+    "In that cursed conventicle, as chill as an icicle,
+      I caught a bad cold in my head,
+    And some impudent vassal stole all of my wassail,
+      And left me small beer in its stead.
+
+    "Of all that is royal and all that is loyal
+      They made a nice mess of mince-meat.
+    With their guns and gunpowder, and their prayers that are louder,
+      But the de'il a mince-pie did I eat.
+
+    "No fat sirloin carving, I scarce kept from starving,
+      And my bones have become almost bare,
+    As if I were the season of the gunpowder treason,
+      To be hallowed with fasting and prayer.
+
+    "If they fancy pulse diet, like the Jews they may try it,
+      Though I think it is fit but to die on.
+    But may the Emanuel long keep this new Daniel
+      From the den of the brave British Lion.
+
+    "In the juice of the barley I'll drink to King Charley,
+      The bright star of royalty risen,
+    While merry maids laughing and honest men quaffing
+      Shall welcome old Christmas from prison."
+
+As he thunders out the last stave of his song, the Queen of May steps
+forward, and sings the following welcome to Spring:
+
+    "Come with blooming cheek, Aurora,
+      Leading on the merry morn;
+    Come with rosy chaplets, Flora,
+      See, the baby Spring is born.
+
+    "Smile and sing each living creature,
+      Britons, join me in the strain;
+    Lo! the Spring is come to Nature,
+      Come to Albion's land again.
+
+    "Winter's chains of icy iron
+      Melt before the smile of Spring;
+    Cares that Albion's land environ
+      Fade before our rising king.
+
+    "Crown his brow with freshest flowers,
+      Weave the chaplet fair as May,
+    While the sands with golden hours
+      Speed his happy life away.
+
+    "Crown his brow with leaves of laurel,
+      Twined with myrtle's branch of peace--
+    A hero in fair Britain's quarrel,
+      A lover when her sorrows cease.
+
+    "Blessings on our royal master,
+      Till in death he lays him down,
+    Free from care and from disaster,
+      To assume a heavenly crown."
+
+As she concludes her lay, she places the May-pole in the centre of the
+stage, and a happy throng of gay young swains and damsels enter and
+commence the main dance around it. The Puritan watches them at first
+with a wild gaze, in which horror is mingled with something of
+admiration. Gradually his stern features relax into a grim smile, and at
+last, unable longer to restrain his feelings, he bursts forth in a most
+immoderate and carnal laugh. His feet at first keep time to the gay
+music; he then begins to shuffle them grotesquely on the floor, and
+finally, overcome by the wild spirit of contagion, he unites in the
+dance to the sound of the merry rebecks. While the dance continues, he
+shakes off the straight-laced puritan dress which he had assumed, and
+tossing the peaked hat high in the air, appears, amid the deafening
+shouts of the delighted auditory, in the front of the stage in the rich
+costume of the English court, and with a royal diadem upon his brow, the
+mimic impersonation of Charles the Second.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[29] The intelligent reader, familiar with the Odyssey, need not to be
+reminded that with this wand of Moly, which Mercury presented to
+Ulysses, the Grecian hero was enabled to restore his unhappy companions,
+who, by the magic of the goddess Circe, had been transformed into swine.
+
+[30] A true copy from the records.
+
+[31] "Cromwell," says an old writer, "hath beat up his drums clean
+through the Old Testament. You may learn the genealogy of our Saviour by
+the names of his regiment. The muster-master has no other list than the
+first chapter of St. Matthew." If the Puritan sergeant had lost this
+roll, Nehemiah XII. would serve him instead.
+
+[32] The actual name of one of the Puritans.
+
+[33] General Monk, the restorer of royalty.
+
+[34] The Puritans believed the period of the revolution to be the latter
+days spoken of in prophecy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+     "I charge you, oh women! for the love you bear to men, to like as
+     much of this play as please you; and I charge you, oh men! for the
+     love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering, none of
+     you hate them,) that between you and the women the play may
+     please."
+                                                     _As you Like It._
+
+     "There is the devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man;
+     a tun of man is thy companion."
+                                                           _Henry IV._
+
+
+The good-natured guests at the Governor's awarded all due, and more than
+due merit to the masque which was prepared for their entertainment.
+Alfred Bernard became at once the hero of the evening, and many a bright
+eye glanced towards him, and envied the fair Virginia the exclusive
+attention which he paid to her. Some young cavaliers there were, whose
+envy carried them so far, that they sneered at the composition of the
+young poet; declared the speeches of Liberty to be prosy and tiresome;
+and that the song of Christmas was coarse, rugged, and devoid of wit;
+nay, they laughed at the unnatural transformation of the grim-visaged
+Puritan into the royal Charles, and referred sarcastically to the
+pretentious pedantry of the young author, in introducing the threadbare
+story of Ulysses and the Moly into a modern production--and at the
+inconsistent jumble of ancient mythology and pure Christianity. Bernard
+heard them not, and if he had, he would have scorned their strictures,
+instead of resenting them. But he was too much engrossed in conversation
+with Virginia to heed either the good-natured applause of his friends,
+or the peevish jealousy of his young rivals. Indeed, the loyalty of the
+piece amply atoned for all its imperfections, and the old colonists
+smiled and nodded their heads, delighted at the wholesome tone of
+sentiment which characterized the whole production.
+
+The character of Christmas was well sustained by Richard Presley,[35] a
+member of the House of Burgesses, whose jolly good humour, as broad
+sometimes as his portly stomach, fitted him in an eminent degree for the
+part. He was indeed one of those merry old wags, who, in an illustrated
+edition of Milton, might have appeared in L'Allegro, to represent the
+idea of "Laughter holding both his sides."
+
+Seeing Sir William Berkeley and Colonel Temple engaged in earnest
+conversation, in one corner of the room, the old burgess bustled, or
+rather waddled up to them, and remaining quiet just long enough to hear
+the nature of their conversation chimed in, with,
+
+"Talking about Bacon, Governor? Why he is only imitating old St. Albans,
+and trying to establish a _novum organum_ in Virginia. By God, it seems
+to me that Sir Nicholas exhausted the whole of his _mediocria firma_
+policy, and left none of it to his kinsmen. Do you not know what he
+meant by that motto, Governor?"
+
+"No;" said Sir William, smiling blandly.
+
+"Well, I'll tell you, and add another wrinkle to your face. Mediocria
+firma, when applied to Bacon, means nothing more nor less than sound
+middlings. But I tell you what, this young mad-cap, Bacon, will have to
+adopt the motto of another namesake of his, and ancestor, perhaps, for
+friars aye regarded their tithes more favourably than their vows of
+virtue--and were fathers in the church as well by the first as the
+second birth."
+
+"What ancestor do you allude to now, Dick?" asked the Governor.
+
+"Why, old Friar Bacon, who lamented that time was, time is, and time
+will be. And to my mind, when time shall cease with our young squealing
+porker here, we will e'en substitute hemp in its stead."
+
+"Thou art a mad wag, Presley," said the Governor, laughing, "and seem to
+have sharpened thy wit by strapping it on the Bible containing the whole
+Bacon genealogy. Come, Temple, let me introduce to your most favourable
+acquaintance, Major Richard Presley, the Falstaff of Virginia, with as
+big a paunch, and if not as merry a wit, at least as great a love for
+sack--aye, Presley?"
+
+"Yes, but indifferent honest, Governor, which I fear my great prototype
+was not," replied the old wag, as he shook hands with Colonel Temple.
+
+"Well, I believe you can be trusted, Dick," said the Governor, kindly,
+"and I may yet give you a regiment of foot to quell this modern young
+Hotspur of Virginia."
+
+"Aye, that would be rare fun," said Presley, with a merry laugh, "but
+look ye, I must take care to attack him in as favourable circumstances
+as the true Falstaff did, or 'sblood he might embowell me."
+
+"I would like to own the tobacco that would be raised over your grave
+then, Dick," said the Governor, laughing, "but never fear but I will
+supply you with a young Prince Hal, as merry, as wise, and as brave."
+
+"Which is he, then? for I can't tell your true prince by instinct yet."
+
+"There he stands talking to Miss Virginia Temple. You know him, Colonel
+Temple, and I trust that you have not found that my partiality has
+overrated his real merit."
+
+"By no means," returned Temple; "I never saw a young man with whom I was
+more pleased. He is at once so ingenuous and frank, and so intelligent
+and just in his views and opinions on all subjects--who is he, Sir
+William? One would judge, from his whole mien and appearance, that noble
+blood ran in his veins."
+
+"I believe not," replied Berkeley, "or if so, as old Presley would say,
+he was hatched in the nest where some noble eagle went a birding. I am
+indebted to my brother, Lord Berkeley, for both my chaplain and my
+private secretary. Good Parson Hutchinson seems to have been the
+guardian of Bernard in his youth, but what may be the real relation
+between them I am unable to say."
+
+"Perhaps, like Major Presley's old Friar Bacon," said Temple, "the good
+parson may have been guilty of some indiscretion in his youth, for which
+he would now atone by his kindness to the offspring of his early crime."
+
+"Hardly so," replied the Governor, "or he would probably acknowledge him
+openly as his son, without all this mystery. I have several times hinted
+at the subject to Mr. Hutchinson, but it seems to produce so much real
+sorrow, that I have never pushed my inquiries farther. All that I know
+is what I tell you, that my brother, in whose parish this Mr. Hutchinson
+long officiated as rector, recommended him to me--and the young man, who
+has been thoroughly educated by his patron, or guardian, by the same
+recommendation, has been made my private secretary."
+
+"He is surely worthy to fill some higher post," said Temple.
+
+"And he will not want my aid in building up his fortunes," returned
+Berkeley; "but they have only been in the colony about six months as
+yet--and the young man has entwined himself about my heart like a son.
+My own bed, alas! is barren, as you know, and it seems that a kind
+providence had sent this young man here as a substitute for the
+offspring which has been denied to me. See Temple," he added, in a
+whisper, "with what admiring eyes he regards your fair daughter. And if
+an old man may judge of such matters, it is with maiden modesty
+returned."
+
+"I think that you are at fault," said Temple, with a sigh; "my
+daughter's affections are entirely disengaged at present."
+
+"Well, time will develope which of us is right. It would be a source of
+pride and pleasure, Harry, if I could live to see a union between this,
+my adopted boy, and the daughter of my early friend," said the old
+Governor, as a tear glistened in his eye; "but come, Presley, the
+dancing has ceased for a time," he added aloud, "favour the company with
+a song."
+
+"Oh, damn it, Governor," replied the old burgess, "my songs won't suit a
+lady's ear. They are intended for the rougher sex."
+
+"Well, never fear," said the Governor, "I will check you if I find you
+are overleaping the bounds of propriety."
+
+"Very well, here goes then--a loyal ditty that I heard in old England,
+about five years agone, while I was there on a visit. Proclaim order,
+and join in the chorus as many as please."
+
+And with a loud, clear, merry voice, the old burgess gave vent to the
+following, which he sung to the tune of the "Old and Young Courtier;" an
+air which has survived even to our own times, though adapted to the more
+modernized words, and somewhat altered measure of the "Old English
+Gentleman:"--
+
+    "Young Charley is a merry prince; he's come unto his own,
+    And long and merrily may he fill his martyred father's throne;
+    With merry laughter may he drown old Nolly's whining groan,
+    And when he dies bequeath his crown to royal flesh and bone.
+              Like a merry King of England,
+              And England's merry King.
+
+    "With bumpers full, to royal Charles, come fill the thirsty glasses,
+    The pride of every loyal heart, the idol of the masses;
+    Yet in the path of virtue fair, old Joseph far surpasses,
+    The merry prince, whose sparkling eye delights in winsome lasses.
+              Like a merry King of England,
+              And England's merry King.
+
+    "For Joseph from dame Potiphar, as holy men assert,
+    Leaving his garment in her hand, did naked fly unhurt;
+    But Charley, like an honest lad, will not a friend desert,
+    And so he still remains behind, nor leaves his only shirt.
+              Like a merry King of England,
+              And England's merry King.
+
+    "Then here's to bonny Charley, he is a prince divine,
+    He hates a Puritan as much as Jews detest a swine;
+    But, faith, he loves a shade too much his mistresses and wine,
+    Which makes me fear that he will not supply the royal line,
+              With a merry King of England,
+              And England's merry King."
+
+The singer paused, and loud and rapturous was the applause which he
+received, until, putting up his hand in a deprecating manner, silence
+was again restored, and with an elaborate _impromptu_, which it had
+taken him about two hours that morning to spin from his old brain, he
+turned to Berkeley, and burst forth again.
+
+    "Nor let this mirror of the king by us remain unsung,
+    To whom the hopes of Englishmen in parlous times have clung:
+    Let Berkeley's praises still be heard from every loyal tongue,
+    While Bacon and his hoggish herd be cured, and then be hung.
+              Like young rebels of the King,
+              And the King's young rebels."
+
+Various were the comments drawn forth by the last volunteer stanza of
+the old loyalist. With lowering looks, some of the guests conversed
+apart in whispers, for there were a good many in the Assembly, who,
+though not entirely approving the conduct of Bacon, were favourably
+disposed to his cause. Sir William Berkeley himself restrained his
+mirth out of respect for a venerable old man, who stood near him, and
+towards whom many eyes were turned in pity. This was old Nathaniel
+Bacon, the uncle of the young insurgent, and himself a member of the
+council. There were dark rumours afloat, that this old man had advised
+his nephew to break his parole and fly from Jamestown; but, although
+suspicion had attached to him, it could never be confirmed. Even those
+who credited the rumour rather respected the feelings of a near
+relative, in thus taking the part of his kinsman, than censured his
+conduct as savouring of rebellion.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[35] This jovial old colonist is referred to in the T. M. account of the
+Rebellion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+    "And first she pitched her voice to sing,
+    Then glanced her dark eye on the king,
+    And then around the silent ring,
+    And laughed, and blushed, and oft did say
+    Her pretty oath, by yea and nay,
+    She could not, would not, durst not play."
+                                        _Marmion._
+
+
+"How did _you_ like Major Presley's song?" said Bernard to Virginia, as
+he leaned gracefully over her chair, and played carelessly with the
+young girl's fan.
+
+"Frankly, Mr. Bernard," she replied, "not at all. There was only one
+thing which seemed to me appropriate in the exhibition."
+
+"And what was that?"
+
+"The coarse language and sentiment of the song comported well with the
+singer."
+
+"Oh, really, Miss Temple," returned Bernard, "you are too harsh in your
+criticism. It is not fair to reduce the habits and manners of others to
+your own purer standard of excellence, any more than to censure the
+scanty dress of your friend Mamalis, which, however picturesque in
+itself, would scarcely become the person of one of these fair ladies
+here."
+
+"And yet," said Virginia, blushing crimson at the allusion, "there can
+be no other standard by which I at least can be governed, than that
+established by my own taste and judgment. You merely asked me _my_
+opinion of Major Presley's performance; others, it is true, may differ
+with me, but their decisions can scarcely affect my own."
+
+"The fact that there is such a wide variance in the taste of
+individuals," argued Bernard, "should, however, make us cautious of
+condemning that which may be sustained by the judgment of so many. Did
+you know, by the way, Miss Virginia, that 'habit' and 'custom' are
+essentially the same words as 'habit' and 'costume.' This fact--for the
+history of a nation may almost be read in the history of its
+language--should convince you that the manners and customs of a people
+are as changeable as the fashions of their dress."
+
+"I grant you," said Virginia, "that the mere manners of a people may
+change in many respects; but true taste, when founded on a true
+appreciation of right, can never change."
+
+"Why, yes it can," replied her companion, who delighted in bringing the
+young girl out, as he said, and plying her with specious sophisms.
+"Beauty, certainly, is an absolute and not a relative emotion, and yet
+what is more changeable than a taste in beauty. The Chinese bard will
+write a sonnet on the oblique eyes, flat nose and club feet of his
+saffron Amaryllis, while he would revolt with horror from the fair
+features of a British lassie. Old Uncle Giles will tell you that the
+negro of his Congo coast paints his Obi devil white, in order to inspire
+terror in the hearts of the wayward little Eboes. The wild Indians of
+Virginia dye their cheeks--"
+
+"Nay, there you will not find so great a difference between us," said
+Virginia, interrupting him, as she pointed to the plastered rouge on
+Bernard's cheek. "But really, Mr. Bernard, you can scarcely be serious
+in an opinion so learnedly argued. You must acknowledge that right and
+wrong are absolute terms, and that a sense of them is inherent in our
+nature."
+
+"Well then, seriously, my dear Miss Temple," replied Bernard, "I do not
+see so much objection to the gay society of England, which is but a
+reflection from the mirror of the court of Charles the Second."
+
+"When the mirror is stained or imperfect, Mr. Bernard, the image that it
+reflects must be distorted too. That society which breaks down the
+barriers that a refined sentiment has erected between the sexes, can
+never develope in its highest perfection the purity of the human heart."
+
+"Well, I give up the argument," said Bernard, "for where sentiment is
+alone concerned, there is no more powerful advocate than woman. But, my
+dear Miss Temple, you who have such a pure and correct taste on this
+subject, can surely illustrate your own idea by an example. Will you not
+sing? I know you can--your mother told me so."
+
+"You must excuse me, Mr. Bernard; I would willingly oblige you, but I
+fear I could not trust my voice among so many strangers."
+
+"You mistake your own powers," urged Bernard. "There is nothing easier,
+believe me, after the first few notes of the voice, which sound
+strangely enough I confess, than for any one to recover self-possession
+entirely. I well remember the first time I attempted to speak before a
+large audience. When I arose to my feet, my knees trembled, and my lips
+actually felt heavy as lead. It seemed as though every drop of blood in
+my system rushed back to my heart. The vast crowd before me was nothing
+but an immense assemblage of eyes, all bent with the most burning power
+upon me; and when at length I opened my mouth, and first heard the tones
+of my own voice, it sounded strange and foreign to my ear. It seemed as
+though it was somebody else, myself and yet not myself, who was
+speaking; and my utterance was so choked and discordant, that I would
+have given worlds if I could draw back the words that escaped me. But
+after a half dozen sentences, I became perfectly composed and
+self-possessed, and cared no more for the gaping crowd than for the idle
+wind which I heed not. So it will be with your singing, but rest assured
+that the discord of your voice will only exist in your own fancy. Now
+will you oblige me?"
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Bernard, I cannot say that you have offered much
+inducement," said Virginia, laughing at the young man's description of
+his forensic debut. "Nothing but the strongest sense of duty would impel
+me to pass through such an ordeal as that which you have described.
+Seriously you must excuse me. I cannot sing."
+
+"Oh yes you can, my dear," said her mother, who was standing near, and
+heard the latter part of the conversation. "What's the use of being so
+affected about it! You know you can sing, my dear--and I like to see
+young people obliging."
+
+"That's right, Mrs. Temple," said Bernard, "help me to urge my petition;
+I don't think Miss Virginia can be disobedient, even if it were in her
+power to be disobliging."
+
+"The fact is, Mr. Bernard," said the old lady, "that the young people of
+the present day require so much persuading, that its hardly worth the
+trouble to get them to do any thing."
+
+"Well, mother, if you put it on that ground," said Virginia, "I suppose
+I must waive my objections and oblige you."
+
+So saying, she rose, and taking Bernard's arm, she seated herself at
+Lady Frances' splendid harp, which was sent from England as a present by
+her brother-in-law, Lord Berkeley. Drawing off her white gloves, and
+running her little tapering fingers over the strings, Virginia played a
+melancholy symphony, which accorded well with the sad words that came
+more sadly on the ear through the medium of her plaintive voice:--
+
+    "Fondly they loved, and her trusting heart
+      With the hopes of the future bounded,
+    Till the trumpet of Freedom condemned them to part,
+      And the knell of their happiness sounded.
+
+    "But his is a churl's and a traitor's choice,
+      Who, deaf to the call of duty,
+    Would linger, allured by a syren's voice,
+      On the Circean island of beauty.
+
+    "His country called! he had heard the sound,
+      And kissed the pale cheek of the maiden,
+    Then staunched with his blood his country's wound,
+      And ascended in glory to Aidenn.
+
+    "The shout of victory lulled him to sleep
+      The slumber that knows no dreaming,
+    But a martyr's reward he will proudly reap,
+      In the grateful tears of Freemen.
+
+    "And long shall the maidens remember her love,
+      And heroes shall dwell on his story;
+    She died in her constancy like the lone dove,
+      But he like an eagle in glory.
+
+    "Oh let the dark cypress mourn over her grave,
+      And light rest the green turf upon her;
+    While over his ashes the laurel shall wave,
+      For he sleeps in the proud bed of honour."
+
+The reader need not be told that this simple little ballad derived new
+beauty from the feeling with which Virginia sang it. The remote
+connection of its story with her own love imparted additional sadness to
+her sweet voice, and as she dwelt on the last line, her eyes filled with
+tears and her voice trembled. Bernard marked the effect which had been
+produced, and a thrill of jealousy shot through his heart at seeing this
+new evidence of the young girl's constancy.
+
+But while he better understood her feelings than others around her, all
+admired the plaintive manner in which she had rendered the sentiment of
+the song, and attributed her emotion to her own refined appreciation and
+taste. Many were the compliments which were paid to the fair young
+minstrel by old and young; by simpering beaux and generous maidens. Sir
+William Berkeley, himself, gallantly kissed her cheek, and said that
+Lady Frances might well be jealous of so fair a rival; and added, that
+if he were only young again, Windsor Hall might be called upon to yield
+its fair inmate to adorn the palace of the Governor of Virginia.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+    "Give me more love or more disdain,
+      The torrid or the frozen zone;
+    Bring equal ease unto my pain,
+      The temperate affords me none;
+    Either extreme of love or hate,
+    Is sweeter than a calm estate."--_Thomas Carew._
+
+
+While Virginia thus received the meed of merited applause at the hands
+of all who were truly generous, there were some then, as there are many
+now, in whose narrow and sterile hearts the success of another is ever a
+sufficient incentive to envy and depreciation. Among these was a young
+lady, who had hitherto been the especial favourite of Alfred Bernard,
+and to whom his attentions had been unremittingly paid. This young lady,
+Miss Matilda Bray, the daughter of one of the councillors, vented her
+spleen and jealousy in terms to the following purport, in a conversation
+with the amiable and accomplished Caroline Ballard.
+
+"Did you ever, Caroline, see any thing so forward as that Miss Temple?"
+
+"I am under a different impression," replied her companion. "I was
+touched by the diffidence and modesty of her demeanor."
+
+"I don't know what you call diffidence and modesty; screeching here at
+the top of her voice and drowning every body's conversation. Do you
+think, for instance, that you or I would presume to sing in as large a
+company as this--with every body gazing at us like a show."
+
+"No, my dear Matilda, I don't think that we would. First, because no one
+would be mad enough to ask us; and, secondly, because if we did
+presume, every body would be stopping their ears, instead of admiring us
+with their eyes."
+
+"Speak for yourself," retorted Matilda. "I still hold to my opinion,
+that it was impertinent to be stopping other people's enjoyment to
+listen to her."
+
+"On the contrary, I thought it a most welcome interruption, and I
+believe that most of the guests, as well as Sir William Berkeley,
+himself, concurred with me in opinion."
+
+"Well, I never saw any body so spiteful as you've grown lately,
+Caroline. There's no standing you. I suppose you will say next that this
+country girl is beautiful too, with her cotton head and blue china
+eyes."
+
+"I am a country girl myself, Matilda," returned Caroline, "and as for
+the beauty of Miss Temple, whatever I may think, I believe that our
+friend, Mr. Bernard, is of that opinion."
+
+"Oh, you needn't think, with your provoking laugh," said Miss Bray,
+"that I care a fig for Mr. Bernard's attention to her."
+
+"I didn't say so."
+
+"No, but you thought so, and you know you did; and what's more, it's too
+bad that you should take such a delight in provoking me. I believe it's
+all jealousy at last."
+
+"Jealousy, my dear Matilda," said her companion, "is a jaundiced jade,
+that thinks every object is of its own yellow colour. But see, the dance
+is about to commence again, and here comes my partner. You must excuse
+me." And with a smile of conscious beauty, Caroline Ballard gave her
+hand to the handsome young gallant who approached her.
+
+Bernard and Virginia, too, rose from their seats, but, to the surprise
+of Matilda Bray, they did not take their places in the dance, but walked
+towards the door. Bernard saw how his old flame was writhing with
+jealousy, and as he passed her he said, maliciously,
+
+"Good evening, Miss Matilda; I hope you are enjoying the ball."
+
+"Oh, thank you, exceedingly," said Miss Bray, patting her foot
+hysterically on the floor, and darting from her fine black eyes an angry
+glance, which gave the lie to her words.
+
+Leaving her to digest her spleen at her leisure, the handsome pair
+passed out of the ball-room and into the lawn. It was already thronged
+with merry, laughing young people, who, wearied with dancing, were
+promenading through the gravelled walks, or sitting on the rural
+benches, arranged under the spreading trees.
+
+"Oh, this is really refreshing," said the young girl, as she smoothed
+back her tresses from her brow, to enjoy the delicious river breeze.
+"Those rooms were very oppressive."
+
+"I scarcely found them so," said Bernard, gallantly; "for when the mind
+is agreeably occupied we soon learn to forget any inconvenience to which
+the body may be subjected. But I knew you would enjoy a walk through
+this fine lawn."
+
+"Oh, indeed I do; and truly, Mr. Bernard," said the ingenuous girl, "I
+have much to thank you for. Nearly a stranger in Jamestown, you have
+made my time pass happily away, though I fear you have deprived yourself
+of the society of others far more agreeable."
+
+"My dear Miss Temple, I will not disguise from you, even to retain your
+good opinion of my generosity, the fact that my attention has not been
+so disinterested as you suppose."
+
+"I thank you, sir," said Virginia, "for the compliment; but I am afraid
+that I have not been so agreeable, in return for your civility, as I
+should. You were witness to a scene, Mr. Bernard, which would make it
+useless to deny that I have much reason to be sad; and it makes me more
+unhappy to think that I may affect others by my gloom."
+
+"I know to what you allude," replied Bernard, "and believe me, fair
+girl, sweeter to me is this sorrow in your young heart, than all the
+gaudy glitter of those vain children of fashion whom we have left. But,
+alas! I myself have much cause to be sad--the future looms darkly before
+me, and I see but little left in life to make it long desirable."
+
+"Oh, say not so," said Virginia, moved by the air of deep melancholy
+which Bernard had assumed, but mistaking its cause. "You are young yet,
+and the future should be bright. You have talents, acquirements,
+everything to ensure success; and the patronage and counsel of Sir
+William Berkeley will guide you in the path to honourable distinction.
+Fear not, my friend, but trust hopefully in the future."
+
+"There is one thing, alas!" said Bernard, in the same melancholy tone,
+"without which success itself would scarcely be desirable."
+
+"And what is that?" said the young girl, artlessly. "Believe me, you
+will always find in me, Mr. Bernard, a warm friend, and a willing if not
+an able counsellor."
+
+"But this is not all," cried Bernard, passionately. "Does not your own
+heart tell you that there must be something more than friendship to
+satisfy the longings of a true heart? Oh, Virginia--yes, permit me to
+call you by a name now doubly dear to me, as the home of my adoption and
+as the object of my earnest love. Dearest Virginia, sweet though it be
+to the heart of a lonely orphan, drifting like a sailless vessel in this
+rugged world, to have such a friend, yet sweeter far would it be to live
+in the sunlight of your love."
+
+"Mr. Bernard!" exclaimed Virginia, with unfeigned surprise.
+
+"Nay, dearest, do you, can you wonder at this revelation? I had striven,
+but in vain, to conceal a hope which I knew was too daring. Oh, do not
+by a word destroy the faint ray which has struggled so bravely in my
+heart."
+
+"Mr. Bernard," said Virginia, as she withdrew her arm from his, "I can
+no longer permit this. If your feelings be such as you profess, and as I
+believe they are--for I know your nature to be honorable--I regret that
+I can only respect a sentiment which I can never return."
+
+"Oh, say not thus, my own Virginia, just as a new life begins to dawn
+upon me. At least be not so hasty in a sentence which seals my fate
+forever."
+
+"I am not too hasty," replied Virginia. "But I would think myself
+unworthy of the love you have expressed, if I held out hopes which can
+never be realized. You know my position is a peculiar one. My hand but
+not my heart is disengaged. Nor could you respect the love of a woman
+who could so soon forget one with whom she had promised to unite her
+destiny through life. I have spoken thus freely, Mr. Bernard, because I
+think it due to your feelings, and because I am assured that what I say
+is entrusted to an honourable man."
+
+"Indeed, my dear Miss Temple, if such you can only be to me," said her
+wily lover, "I do respect from my heart your constancy to your first
+love. That unwavering devotion to another, whom I esteem, because he is
+loved by you, only makes you more worthy to be won. May I not still hope
+that time may supply the niche, made vacant in your heart, by another
+whose whole life shall be devoted to the one object of making you
+happy?"
+
+"Mr. Bernard, candour compels me to say no, my friend; there are vows
+which even time, with its destroying hand can never erase, and which are
+rendered stronger and more sacred by the very circumstances which
+prevent their accomplishment. Fate, my friend, may interpose her stern
+decree and forever separate me from the presence of Mr. Hansford, but
+my heart is still unchangeably his. Ha! what is that?" she added, with a
+faint scream, as from the little summer-house, which we have before
+described, there came a deep, prolonged groan.
+
+As she spoke, and as Bernard laid his hand upon his sword to avenge
+himself upon the intruder, a dark figure issued from the door of the
+arbor, and stood before them. The young man stood appalled as he
+recognized by the uncertain light of a neighbouring lamp, the dark,
+swarthy features of Master Hutchinson, the chaplain of the Governor.
+
+"Put up your sword, young man," said the preacher, gravely; "they who
+use the sword shall perish by the sword."
+
+"In the devil's name," cried Bernard, forgetful of the presence of
+Virginia, "how came you here?"
+
+"Not to act the spy at least," said Hutchinson, "such is not my
+character. Suffice it to say, that I came as you did, to enjoy this
+fresh air--and sought the quiet of this arbour to be free from the
+intrusion of others. I have lived too long to care for the frivolities
+which I have heard, and your secret is safe in my breast--a repository
+of many a darker confidence than that." With these words the bent form
+of the melancholy preacher passed out of their sight.
+
+"A singular man," said Bernard, in a troubled voice, "but entirely
+innocent in his conduct. An abstracted book-worm, he moves through the
+world like a stranger in it. Will you return now?"
+
+"Thank you," said Virginia, "most willingly--for I confess my nerves are
+a little unstrung by the fright I received. And now, my friend, pardon
+me for referring to what has passed, but you will still be my friend,
+won't you?"
+
+"Oh, certainly," said Bernard, in an abstracted manner. "I wonder," he
+muttered "what he could have meant by that hideous groan?"
+
+And sadly and silently the rejected lover and his unhappy companion
+returned to the heartless throng, who still lit up the palace with their
+hollow smiles.
+
+Alike the joyous dance, the light mirth, and the splendid entertainment
+passed unheeded by Virginia, as she sat silently abstracted, and
+returned indifferent answers to the questions which were asked her. And
+Bernard, the gay and fascinating Bernard, wandered through the crowd,
+like a troubled spectre, and ever and anon muttered to himself, "I
+wonder what he could have meant by that hideous groan?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+    "His heart has not half uttered itself yet,
+    And much remains to do as well as they.
+    The heart is sometime ere it finds its focus,
+    And when it does with the whole light of nature
+    Strained through it to a hair's breadth, it but burns
+    The things beneath it which it lights to death."
+                                                    _Festus._
+
+
+And now the ball is over. Mothers wait impatiently for their fair
+daughters, who are having those many last words so delightful to them,
+and so provoking to those who await their departure. Carriages again
+drive to the door, and receive their laughing, bright-eyed burdens, and
+then roll away through the green lawn, while the lamps throw their
+broad, dark shadows on the grass. Gay young cavaliers, who have come
+from a distance to the ball, exchange their slippers for their heavy
+riding-boots and spurs, and mount their pawing and impatient steeds.
+Sober-sided old statesmen walk away arm-in-arm, and discuss earnestly
+the business of the morrow. The gamesters and dicers depart, some with
+cheerful smiles, chuckling over their gains, and others with empty
+pockets, complaining how early the party had broken up, and proposing a
+renewal of the game the next night at the Blue Chamber at the Garter
+Inn. Old Presley has evidently, to use his own phrase, "got his load,"
+and waddling away to his quarters, he winks his eye mischievously at the
+lamps, which, under the multiplying power of his optics, have become
+more in number than the stars. Thus the guests all pass away, and the
+lights which flit for a few moments from casement to casement in the
+palace, are one by one extinguished, and all is dark, save where one
+faint candle gleams through an upper window and betrays the watchfulness
+of the old chaplain.
+
+And who is he, with his dark, melancholy eyes, which tell so plainly of
+the chastened heart--he who seeming so gentle and kind to all, reserves
+his sternness for himself alone--and who, living in love with all God's
+creatures, seems to hate with bitterness his own nature? It was not then
+as it is sometimes now, that every man's antecedents were inquired into
+and known, and that the young coxcomb, who disgraces the name that he
+bears and the lineage of which he boasts, is awarded a higher station in
+society than the self-sustaining and worthy son of toil, who builds his
+reputation on the firmer foundation of substantial worth. Every ship
+brought new emigrants from England, who had come to share the fate and
+to develope the destiny of the new colony, and who immediately assumed
+the position in society to which their own merit entitled them. And thus
+it was, that when Arthur Hutchinson came to Virginia, no one asked,
+though many wondered, what had blighted his heart, and cast so dark a
+shadow on his path. There was one man in the colony, and one alone, who
+had known him before--and yet Alfred Bernard, with whom he had come to
+Virginia, seemed to know little more of his history and his character
+than those to whom he was an entire stranger.
+
+Arthur Hutchinson was in appearance about fifty years of age. His long
+hair, which had once been black as the raven's wing, but was now thickly
+sprinkled with grey, fell profusely over his stooping shoulders. There
+was that, too, in the deep furrows on his broad brow, and in the
+expression of his pale thin lips which told that time and sorrow had
+laid their heavy hands upon him. As has been before remarked, by the
+recommendation of Lord Berkeley, which had great weight with his
+brother, Hutchinson had been installed as Chaplain to Sir William, and
+through his influence with the vestry, presented to the church in
+Jamestown. Although, with his own private resources, the scanty
+provision of sixteen thousand pounds of tobacco per annum, (rated at
+about eighty pounds sterling,) was ample for his comfortable support,
+yet good Master Hutchinson had found it very convenient to accept Sir
+William Berkeley's invitation to make his home at the palace. Here,
+surrounded by his books, which he regarded more as cheerful companions,
+than as grim instructors, he passed his life rather in inoffensive
+meditation than in active usefulness. The sad and quiet reserve of his
+manners, which seemed to spring from the memory of some past sorrow,
+that while it had ceased to give pain, was still having its silent
+effect upon its victim, made him the object of pity to all around him.
+The fervid eloquence and earnestness of his sermons carried conviction
+to the minds of the doubting, arrested the attention of the thoughtless
+and the wayward, and administered the balm of consolation to the
+afflicted child of sorrow. The mysterious influence which he exerted
+over the proud spirit of Alfred Bernard, even by one reproving glance
+from those big, black, melancholy eyes, struck all who knew them with
+astonishment. He took but little interest in the political condition of
+the colony, or in the state of society around him, and while, by this
+estrangement, and his secluded life, he made but few warm friends, he
+made no enemies. The good people of the parish were content to let the
+parson pursue his own quiet life undisturbed, and he lost none of their
+respect, while he gained much of their regard by his refusal to make the
+influence of the church the weapon of political warfare.
+
+Hutchinson, who had retired to his room some time before the guests had
+separated, was quietly reading from one of the old fathers, when his
+attention was arrested by a low tap at the door, which he at once
+recognized as Bernard's. At the intimation to come in, the young man
+entered, and throwing himself into a chair, he rested his face upon his
+hand, and sighed deeply.
+
+"Alfred," said the preacher, after watching him for a moment in silence,
+"I am glad you have come. I have somewhat to say to you."
+
+"Well, sir, I will hear you patiently. What would you say?"
+
+"I would warn you against letting a young girl divert you from the
+pursuit of higher objects than are to be attained by love."
+
+"How, sir?" exclaimed Bernard, with surprise.
+
+"Alfred Bernard, look at me. Read in this pale withered visage, these
+sunken cheeks, this bent form, and this broken heart, the brief summary
+of a history which cannot yet be fully known. You have seen and known
+that I am not as other men--that I walk through the world a stranger
+here, and that my home is in the dark dungeon of my own bitter thoughts.
+Would you know what has thus severed the chain which bound me to the
+world? Would you know what it is that has blighted a heart which might
+have borne rich fruit, and turned it to ashes? Would you know what is
+the vulture, too cruel to destroy, which feeds upon this doomed form?"
+
+"In God's name, Mr. Hutchinson, why do you speak thus wildly?" said
+Bernard, for he had never before heard such language fall from the lips
+of the reserved and quiet preacher. "I know that you have had your
+sorrows, for the foot-prints of sorrow are indeed on you, but I have
+often admired the stoical philosophy with which you have borne the
+burden of care."
+
+"Stoical philosophy!" exclaimed the preacher, pressing his hand to his
+heart. "The name that the world has given to the fire which burns here,
+and whose flame is never seen. Think you the pain is less, because all
+the heat is concentrated in the heart, not fanned into a flame by the
+breath of words?"
+
+"Well, call it what you will," said Bernard, "and suffer as you will,
+but why reserve until to-night a revelation which you have so long
+refused to make?"
+
+"Simply because to-night I have seen and heard that which induces me to
+warn you from the course that you are pursuing. Young man, beware how
+you seek your happiness in a woman's smile."
+
+"You must excuse me, my old friend," said Bernard, smiling, "if I remind
+you of an old adage which teaches us that a burnt child dreads the fire.
+If trees were sentient, would you have them to fly from the generous
+rain of heaven, by which they grow, and live, and bloom, because,
+forsooth, one had been blasted by the lightning of the storm?"
+
+Hutchinson only replied with a melancholy shake of the head, and the two
+men gazed at each other in silence. Bernard, with all his sagacity and
+knowledge of human nature, in vain attempted to read the secret thoughts
+of his old guardian, whose dark eyes, lit up for a moment with
+excitement, had now subsided into the pensive melancholy which we have
+more than once remarked. The affectionate solicitude with which he had
+ever treated him, prevented Bernard from being offended at his freedom,
+and yet, with a vexed heart, he vainly strove to solve a mystery which
+thus seemed to surround Virginia and himself, who, until a few days
+before, had been entire strangers to each other.
+
+"Alfred Bernard," said the old man at length, with his sweet gentle
+voice, "do you remember your father? You are very like him."
+
+"How can you ask me such a question, when you yourself have told me so
+often that I never saw him."
+
+"True, I had forgotten," returned Hutchinson, with a sigh, "but your
+mother you remember?"
+
+"Oh yes," said the young man, with a tear starting in his eye, "I can
+never forget her sad, pensive countenance. I have been a wild, bad man,
+Mr. Hutchinson, but often in my darkest hours, the memory of my mother
+would come over me, as though her spirit, like a dove, was descending
+from her place in heaven to watch over her boy. Alas! I feel that if I
+had followed the precepts which she taught me, I would now be a better
+and a happier man."
+
+No heart is formed entirely hard; there are moments and memories which
+melt the most obdurate heart, as the wand of the prophet smote water
+from the rock. And Alfred Bernard, with all his cold scepticism and
+selfish nature, was for a moment sincerely repentant.
+
+"I have often thought, Mr. Hutchinson," he continued, "that if it had
+pleased heaven to give me some near relative on earth, around whom my
+heart could delight to cling, I would have been a better man. Some kind
+brother who could aid and sympathize with me in my struggle with the
+world, or some gentle sister, in whose love I could confide, and to
+whose sweet society I might repair from the bitter trials of this rugged
+life; if these had been vouchsafed me, my heart would have expanded into
+more sympathy with my race than it can ever now feel."
+
+Hutchinson smiled sadly, and replied--
+
+"It has been my object in life, Alfred Bernard, to supply the place of
+those nearer and dearer objects of affection which have been denied you.
+I hope in this I have not been unsuccessful."
+
+"I am aware, Mr. Hutchinson," said Bernard, bitterly, "that to you I am
+indebted for my education and support. I hope I have ever manifested a
+becoming sense of gratitude, and I only regret that in this alone am I
+able to repay you."
+
+"And do you think that I wished to remind you of your dependence,
+Alfred? Oh, no--you owe me nothing. I have discharged towards you a
+solemn, a sacred duty, which you had a right to claim. I took you, a
+little homeless orphan, and sought to cultivate your mind and train your
+heart. In the first you have done more than justice to my tuition and my
+care. I am proud of the plant that I have reared. But how have you
+repaid me? You have imbibed sentiments and opinions abhorrent to all
+just and moral men. You have slighted my advice, and at times have even
+threatened the adviser."
+
+"If you refer to the difference in our faith," said Bernard, "you must
+remember that it was from your teachings that I derived the warrant to
+follow the dictates of my conscience and my reason. If they have led me
+into error, you must charge it upon these monitors which God has given
+me. You cannot censure me."
+
+"I confess I am to blame," said the good old man, with a sigh. "But who
+could have thought, that when, with my hard earnings, I had saved enough
+to send you to France, in order to give you a more extensive
+acquaintance with the world you were about to enter--who would have
+thought that it would result in your imbibing such errors as these! Oh,
+my son, what freedom of conscience is there in a faith like papacy,
+which binds your reason to the will of another? And what purity can
+there be in a religion which you dare not avow?"
+
+"Naaman bowed in the house of Rimmon," returned Bernard, carelessly,
+"and if the prophet forgave him for thus following the customs of his
+nation, that he might retain a profitable and dignified position, I
+surely may be forgiven, under a milder dispensation, for suppressing my
+real sentiments in order to secure office and preferment."
+
+"Alas!" murmured Hutchinson, bitterly. "Well, it is a sentiment worthy
+of Edward's son. But go, my poor boy, proud in your reason, which but
+leads you astray--wresting scripture in order to justify hypocrisy, and
+profaning religion with vice. You shall not yet want my prayers that you
+may be redeemed from error."
+
+"Well, good night," said Bernard, as he opened the door. "But do me the
+justice to say, that though I may be deceitful, I can never be
+ungrateful, nor can I forget your kindness to a desolate orphan." And so
+saying, he closed the door, and left the old chaplain to the solitude of
+his own stricken heart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+    "Oh, tiger's heart, wrapt in a woman's hide."
+                                            _Henry VI._
+
+
+Brightly shone the sun through the window of the Garter Inn, at which
+Virginia Temple sat on the morning after the ball at Sir William
+Berkeley's palace. Freed from the restraints of society, she gave her
+caged thoughts their freedom, and they flew with delight to Hansford.
+She reproved herself for the appearance of gaiety which she had assumed,
+while he was in so much danger; and she inwardly resolved that, not even
+to please her mother, would she be guilty again of such hypocrisy. She
+felt that she owed it to Hansford, to herself, and to others, to act
+thus. To Hansford, because his long and passionate love, and his
+unstained name, deserved a sacrifice of the world and its joys to him.
+To herself, because sad as were her reflections on the past, and fearful
+as were her apprehensions for the future, there was still a melancholy
+pleasure in dwelling on the memory of her love--far sweeter to her
+wounded heart than all the giddy gaiety of the world around her. And to
+others, because, but for her assumed cheerfulness, the feelings of
+Alfred Bernard, her generous and gifted friend, would have been spared
+the sore trial to which they had been subjected the night before. She
+was determined that another noble soul should not make shipwreck of its
+happiness, by anchoring its hopes on her own broken heart.
+
+Such were her thoughts, as she leaned her head upon her hand and gazed
+out of the window at the throng of people who were hurrying toward the
+state-house. For this was to be a great day in legislation. The Indian
+Bill was to be up in committee, and the discussion would be an able
+one, in which the most prominent members of the Assembly were to take
+part. She had seen the Governor's carriage, with its gold and trappings,
+the Berkeley coat-of-arms, and its six richly caparisoned white horses,
+roll splendidly by, with an escort of guards, by which Sir William was
+on public occasions always attended. She had seen the Burgesses, with
+their reports, their petitions and their bills, some conversing
+carelessly and merrily as they passed, and others with thoughtful
+countenance bent upon the ground, cogitating on some favourite scheme
+for extricating the colony from its dangers. She had seen Alfred Bernard
+pass on his favourite horse, and he had turned his eyes to the window
+and gracefully saluted her; but in that brief moment she saw that the
+scenes through which he had passed the night before were still in his
+memory, and had made a deep impression on his heart. On the plea of a
+sick head-ache, she had declined to go with her mother to the "House,"
+and the good old lady had gone alone with her husband, deploring, as she
+went, the little interest which the young people of the present day took
+in the politics and prosperity of their country.
+
+While thus silently absorbed in her own thoughts, the attention of
+Virginia Temple was arrested by the door of her room being opened, and
+on looking up, she saw before her the tall figure of a strange, wild
+looking woman, whom she had never seen before. This woman, despite the
+warmth of the weather, was wrapped in a coarse red shawl, which gave a
+striking and picturesque effect to her singular appearance. Her features
+were prominent and regular, and the face might have been considered
+handsome if it were not for the exceeding coarseness of her swarthy
+skin. Her jet-black hair, not even confined by a comb, was secured by a
+black riband behind, and passing over the right shoulder, fell in a
+heavy mass over her bosom. Her figure was tall and straight as an
+Indian's, and her bare brawny arms, which escaped from under her shawl,
+gave indications of great physical strength; while there was that in the
+expression of her fierce black eye, and her finely formed mouth, which
+showed that there was no mere woman's heart in that masculine form.
+
+The wild appearance and attire of the woman inspired Virginia with
+terror at first, but she suppressed the scream which rose to her lips,
+and in an agitated voice, she asked,
+
+"What would you have with me, madam?"
+
+"What are you frightened at, girl," said the woman in a shrill, coarse
+voice, "don't you see that I am a woman?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am," said Virginia, trembling, "I am not frightened, ma'am."
+
+"You are frightened--I see you are," returned her strange guest.--"But
+if you fear, you are not worthy to be the wife of a brave man--come,
+deny nothing--I can read you like a book--and easier, for it is but
+little that I know from books, except my Bible."
+
+"Are you a gipsey, ma'am?" said Virginia, softly, for she had heard her
+father speak of that singular race of vagrants, and the person and
+language of the stranger corresponded with the idea which she had formed
+of them.
+
+"A gipsey! no, I am a Virginian--and a brave man's wife, as you would
+be--but that prejudice and fear keep you still in Egyptian bondage. The
+time has come for woman to act her part in the world--and for you,
+Virginia Temple, to act yours."
+
+"But what would you have me to do?" asked Virginia, surprised at the
+knowledge which the stranger seemed to possess of her history.
+
+"Do!" shrieked the woman, "your duty--that which every human creature,
+man or woman, is bound before high heaven to do. Aid in the great work
+which God this day calls upon his Israel to do--to redeem his people
+from captivity and from the hand of those who smite us."
+
+"My good woman," said Virginia, who now began to understand the
+character of the strange intruder, "it is not for me, may I add, it is
+not for our sex to mingle in contests like the present. We can but
+humbly pray that He who controls the affairs of this world, may direct
+in virtue and in wisdom, the hearts of both rulers and people."
+
+"And why should we only pray," said the woman sternly, "when did Heaven
+ever answer prayer, except when our own actions carried the prayer into
+effect. Have you not learned, have you not known, hath it not been told
+you from the foundation of the world, that faith without works was
+dead."
+
+"But there is no part which a woman can consistently take in such a
+contest as the present, even should she so far forget her true duties as
+to wish to engage in it."
+
+"Girl, have you read your bible, or are you one of those children of the
+scarlet woman of Babylon, to whom the word of God is a closed book--to
+whom the waters from the fountain of truth can only come through the
+polluted lips of priests--as unclean birds feed their offspring. Do you
+not know that it was a woman, even Rahab, who saved the spies sent out
+from Shittem to view the land of promise? Do you not know that Miriam
+joined with the hosts of Israel in the triumph of their deliverance from
+the hand of Pharaoh? Do you not know that Deborah, the wife of Lapidoth,
+judged Israel, and delivered Jacob from the hands of Jabin, king of
+Canaan, and Sisera the captain of his host--and did not Jael, the wife
+of Heber the Kenite, rescue Israel from the hands of Sisera? Surely she
+fastened the nail in a sure place, and the wife of Sisera, tarried long
+ere his chariot should come--and shall we in these latter days of Israel
+be less bold than they? Tell me not of prayers, Virginia Temple, cowards
+alone pray blindly for assistance. It is the will of God that the brave
+should be often under Heaven, the answerers of their own prayers."
+
+"And pray tell me," said Virginia, struck with the wild, biblical
+eloquence of the Puritan woman, "why you have thus come to me among so
+many of the damsels of Virginia, to urge me to engage in this
+enterprise."
+
+"Because I was sent. Because one of the captains of our host has sought
+the hand of Virginia Temple. Ah, blush, maiden, for the blush of shame
+well becomes one who has deserted her lover, because he has laid aside
+every weight, and pressed forward to the prize of his high calling. Yet
+a little while, and the brave men of Virginia will be here to show the
+malignant Berkeley, that the servant is not greater than his lord--that
+they who reared up this temple of his authority, can rase it to the
+ground and bury him in its ruins. I come from Thomas Hansford, to ask
+that you will under my guidance meet him where I shall appoint
+to-night."
+
+"This is most strange conduct on his part," said Virginia, flushing with
+indignation, "nor will I believe him guilty of it. Why did he entrust a
+message like this to you instead of writing?"
+
+"A warrior writes with his sword and in blood," replied the woman.
+"Think you that they who wander in the wilderness, are provided with pen
+or ink to write soft words of love to silly maidens? But he foresaw that
+you would refuse, and he gave me a token--I fear a couplet from a carnal
+song."
+
+"What is it?" cried Virginia, anxiously.
+
+    "'I had not loved thee, dear, so much,
+    Loved I not honour more,'"
+
+said the woman, in a low voice. "Thus the words run in my memory."
+
+"And it is indeed a true token," said Virginia, "but once for all, I
+cannot consent to this singular request."
+
+"Decide not in haste, lest you repent at leisure," returned the woman,
+"I will come to-night at ten o'clock to receive your final answer. And
+regret not, Virginia Temple, that your fate is thus linked with a brave
+man. The babe unborn will yet bless the rising in this country--and
+children shall rise up and call us blest.[36] And, oh! as you would
+prove worthy of him who loves you, abide not thou like Reuben among the
+sheep-folds to hear the bleating of the flocks, and you will yet live to
+rejoice that you have turned a willing ear to the words and the counsel
+of Sarah Drummond."
+
+There was a pause of some moments, during which Virginia was wrapt in
+her own reflections concerning the singular message of Hansford,
+rendered even more singular by the character and appearance of the
+messenger. Suddenly she was startled from her reverie by the blast of a
+trumpet, and the distant trampling of horses' hoofs. Sarah Drummond also
+started at the sound, but not from the same cause, for she heard in that
+sound the blast of defiance--the trumpet of freedom, as its champions
+advanced to the charge.
+
+"They come, they come," she said, in her wild, shrill voice; "my Lord,
+my Lord, the chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof--I go, like
+Miriam of old, to prophecy in their cause, and to swell their triumph.
+Farewell. Remember, at ten o'clock to-night I return for your final
+answer."
+
+With these words she burst from the room, and Virginia soon seen her
+tall form, with hasty strides, moving toward the place from which the
+sound proceeded.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[36] This was her very language during the rebellion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+            "Men, high minded men,
+    With powers as far above dull brutes endued,
+            In forest, brake or den,
+    As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude;
+            Men, who their duties know,
+    But know their rights, and knowing dare maintain,
+            These constitute a state."
+                                _Sir William Jones._
+
+
+And nearer, and nearer, came the sound, and the cloud of dust which
+already rose in the street, announced their near approach. And then,
+Virginia saw emerging from that cloud a proud figure, mounted on a
+splendid grey charger, which pranced and champed his bit, as though
+proud of the noble burden which he bore. And well he might be proud, for
+that young gallant rider was Nathaniel Bacon, a man who has left his
+name upon his country's history, despite the efforts to defame him, as
+the very embodiment of the spirit of freedom. And he looked every inch a
+hero, as with kingly mien and gallant bearing he rode through that
+crowded street, the great centre of attraction to all.
+
+Beside him and around him were those, his friends and his companions,
+who had sworn to share his success, or to perish in the attempt.
+
+There was the burley Richard Lawrence, not yet bent under the weight of
+his growing years. There was Carver, the bold, intrepid and faithful
+Carver, whose fidelity yet lives historically in his rough, home-brewed
+answer to the Governor, that "if he served the devil he would be true to
+his trust." There too was the young and graceful form of one whose name
+has been honoured by history, and cherished by his descendants--whose
+rising glory has indeed been eclipsed by others of his name more
+successful, but not more worthy of success--nor can that long, pure
+cavalier lineage boast a nobler ancestor than the high-souled,
+chivalrous, and devoted Giles Bland. There too were Ingram, and
+Walklate, and Wilford, and Farloe, and Cheesman, and a host of others,
+whom time would fail us to mention, and yet, each one of whom, a pioneer
+in freedom's cause, deserves to be freshly remembered. And there too,
+and the heart of Virginia Temple beat loud and quick as she beheld him,
+was the gallant Hansford, whom she loved so well; and as she gazed upon
+his noble figure, now foremost in rebellion, the old love came back
+gushing into her heart, and she half forgave his grievous sin, and loved
+him as before.
+
+These all passed on, and the well-regulated band of four hundred
+foot-soldiers, all armed and disciplined for action, followed on, ready
+and anxious to obey their noble leader, even unto death. Among these
+were many, who, through their lives had been known as loyalists, who
+upheld the councils of the colony in their long resistance to the
+usurpation of the Protector, and who hailed the restoration of their
+king as a personal triumph to each and all. There too were those who had
+admired Cromwell, and sustained his government, and some few grey-headed
+veterans who even remembered to have fought under the banner of John
+Hampden--Cavaliers and Roundheads, Episcopalians and Dissenters; old
+men, who had heretofore passed through life regardless of the forms of
+government under which they lived; and young men, whose ardent hearts
+burned high with the spirit of liberty--all these discordant elements
+had been united in the alembic of freedom, and hand-in-hand, and
+heart-in-heart, were preparing for the struggle. And Virginia Temple
+thought, as she gazed from the window upon their manly forms, that after
+all, rebellion was not confined to the ignoble and the base.
+
+On, on, still on, and now they have reached the gate which is the grand
+entrance to the state-house square. The crowd of eager citizens throng
+after them, and with the fickle sympathy of the mob unite in loud shouts
+of "Long live Bacon, the Champion of Freedom." And now they are drawn up
+in bristling column before the hall of the assembly, while the windows
+are crowded thick with the pale, anxious faces of the astounded
+burgesses. But see! the leaders dismount, and their horses are given in
+charge to certain of the soldiers. Conspicuous among them all is
+Nathaniel Bacon, from his proud and imperial bearing as he walks with
+impatient steps up and down the line, and reads their resolution in the
+faces of the men.
+
+"What will he do!" is whispered from the white and agitated lips of the
+trembling burgesses.
+
+"This comes of the faithless conduct of Berkeley," says one.
+
+"Yes; I always said that Bacon should have his commission," says
+another.
+
+"It is downright murder to deny him the right to save the colony from
+the savages," says a third.
+
+"And we must suffer for the offences of a despotic old dotard," said the
+first speaker.
+
+"Say you so, masters," cried out old Presley, wedging his huge form
+between two of his brethren at the window--and all his loyalty of the
+preceding night having oozed out at his fingers' ends, like Bob Acres'
+courage, at the first approach of danger--"say you so; then, by God, it
+is my advice to let him put out the fire of his own raising."
+
+But see there! Bacon and his staff are conferring together. It will soon
+be known what is his determination. It is already read in his fierce and
+angry countenance as he draws his sword half way from its scabbard, and
+frowns upon the milder councils of Hansford and Bland. Presently a
+servant of one of the members comes in with pale, affrighted looks, and
+whispers to his master. He has overheard the words of Bacon, which
+attended that ominous gesture.
+
+"I will bear a little while. But when you see my sword drawn from my
+scabbard, thus, let that be the signal for attack. Then strike for
+freedom, for truth, and for justice."
+
+The burgesses look in wild alarm at each other. What is to be done? It
+were vain to resist. They are unarmed. The rebels more than quadruple
+Governor, Council, and Assembly. Let those suffer who have incurred the
+wrath of freemen. Let the lightning fall upon him who has called it
+down. For ourselves, let us make peace.
+
+In a moment a white handkerchief suspended on the usher's rod streams
+from the window, an emblem of peace, an advocate for mercy, and with one
+accordant shout, which rings through the halls of the state-house, the
+burgesses declare that he shall have his commission.
+
+Bacon sees the emblem. He hears the shout. His dark eye flashes with
+delight as he hails this bloodless victory over the most formidable
+department of the government. The executive dare not hold out against
+the will of the Assembly. But the victory is not yet consummated.
+
+Suddenly from the lips of the excited soldiery comes a wild cry, and
+following the direction of their eyes, he sees Sir William Berkeley
+standing at the open window of the Council Chamber. Yes, there stands
+the proud old man, with form erect and noble--his face somewhat paler,
+and his eagle eye somewhat brighter than usual. But these are the only
+signs he gives of emotion, as he looks down upon that hostile crowd,
+with a smile of bitter scorn encircling his lip. He quails not, he
+blenches not, before that angry foe. His pulse beats calmly and
+regularly, for it is under the control of the brave great heart, which
+knows no fear. And there he stands, all calm and silent, like a firm-set
+rock that defies in its iron strength the fury of the storm that beats
+against it.
+
+Yet Berkeley is in danger. He is the object, the sole object, of the
+bitter hate of that incensed and indignant soldiery. He has pledged and
+he has broken his word to them, and when did broken faith ever fail to
+arouse the indignation of Virginians? He has denied them the right to
+protect, by organized force, their homes and their firesides from the
+midnight attacks of ruthless savages. He has advised the passage of laws
+restricting their commerce, and reducing the value of their staples. He
+has urged the erection of forts throughout the colony, armed with a
+regular soldiery, supported in their idleness by the industry of
+Virginians, and whose sole object is to check the kindling flame of
+liberty among the people. He has sanctioned and encouraged the exercise
+of power by Parliament to tax an unrepresented colony. He has advised
+and upheld His Majesty in depriving the original patentees of immense
+tracts of land, and lavishing them as princely donations upon fawning
+favourites. He has refused to represent to the king the many grievances
+of the colony, and to urge their redress, and, although thus showing
+himself to be a tyrant over a free people, he has dared to urge, through
+his servile commissioners, his appointment as Governor for life.
+
+Such were some of the many causes of discontent among the colonists
+which had so inflamed them against Sir William Berkeley. And now, there
+he stood before them, calm in spite of their menaces, unrelenting in
+spite of their remonstrances. Without a word of command, and with one
+accord a hundred fusils were pointed at the breast of the brave old
+Governor. It was a moment of intense excitement--of terrible suspense.
+But even then his courage and his self-reliance forsook him not. Tearing
+open his vest, and presenting himself at the window more fully to their
+attack, he cried out in a firm voice:
+
+"Aye, shoot! 'Fore God, a fair mark. Infatuated men, bury your wrongs
+here in my heart. I dare you to do your worst!"
+
+"Down with your guns!" shouted Bacon, angrily. But it needed not the
+order of their leader to cause them to drop their weapons in an instant.
+The calm smile which still played around the countenance of the old
+Governor, the unblenching glance of that eagle eye, and the unawed
+manner in which he dared them to revenge, all had their effect in
+allaying the resentment of the soldiers. And with this came the memory
+of the olden time, when he was so beloved by his people, because so just
+and gentle. Something of this old feeling now returned, and as they
+lowered their weapons a tear glistened in many a hardy soldier's eye.
+
+With the quick perception of true genius, Nathaniel Bacon saw the effect
+produced. Well aware of the volatile materials with which he had to
+work, he dreaded a revolution in the feelings of the men. Anxious to
+smother the smouldering ashes of loyalty before they were fanned into a
+flame, he cried with a loud voice,
+
+"Not a hair of your head shall be touched. No, nor of any man's. I come
+for justice, not for vengeance. I come to plead for the mercy which
+ill-judged and cruel delay has long denied this people. I come to plead
+for the living--my argument may be heard from the dead. The voices of
+murdered Englishmen call to you from the ground. We demand a right,
+guarantied by the sacred and inviolable law of self-preservation! A
+right! guarantied by the plighted but violated word of an English knight
+and a Virginia Governor. A right! which I now hold by the powerful,
+albeit unwritten, sanction of these, the sovereigns of Virginia."
+
+The last artful allusion of Bacon entirely restored the confidence of
+his soldiers, and with loud cries they shouted in chorus, "And we will
+have it!--we will have it!"
+
+Berkeley listened patiently to this brief address, and then turned from
+the window where he was standing, and took his seat at the
+council-table. Here, too, he was surrounded by many who, either alarmed
+at the menaces of the rebels, and convinced of the futility of resisting
+their demands, or, what is more probable, who had a secret sympathy in
+the causes of the rebellion, exerted all their influence in mollifying
+the wrath and obstinacy of the old Governor. But it was all in vain. To
+every argument or persuasion which was urged, his only reply was,
+
+"To have forced from me by rebels the trust confided in me by my king!
+To yield to force what I denied to petition! No, Gentlemen; 'fore God,
+if the authority of my master's government must be overcome in Virginia,
+let me perish with it. I wish no higher destiny than to be a martyr,
+like my royal master, Charles the First, to the cause of truth and
+justice. Let them rob me of my life when they rob me of my trust."
+
+While thus the councillors were vainly endeavoring to persuade the old
+man to yield to the current which had so set against him, he was
+surprised by a slight touch on his shoulder, and on looking up he saw
+Alfred Bernard standing before him. The young man bent over, and in a
+low whisper uttered these significant words:
+
+"The commission, extorted by force, is null and void when the duress is
+removed."
+
+Struck by a view so apposite to his condition, and so entirely tallying
+with his own wishes, the impetuous old Governor fairly leaped from his
+chair and grasped the hand of his young adviser.
+
+"Right, by God!" he said; "right, my son. Gentlemen, this young man's
+counsel is worth all of your's. Out of the mouth of babes and
+sucklings--however, Alfred, you would not relish a compliment paid at
+the expense of your manhood."
+
+"What does the young man propose?" drawled the phlegmatic old Cole, who
+was one of the council board.
+
+"That I should yield to the current when I must, and resist it when I
+can," cried Berkeley, exultingly. "Loyalty must only bow to the storm,
+as the tree bows before the tempest. The most efficient resistance is
+apparent concession."
+
+The councillors were astounded. Sprung from that chivalric Anglo-Saxon
+race, who respected honour more than life, and felt a stain like a
+wound, they could scarcely believe their senses when they thus heard the
+Governor of Virginia recommending deceit and simulation to secure his
+safety. To them, rebellion was chiefly detestable because it was an
+infraction of the oath of loyalty. It could scarcely be more base than
+the premeditated perjury which Sir William contemplated. Many an angry
+eye and dark scowl was bent on Alfred Bernard, who met them with an easy
+and defiant air. The silence that ensued expressed more clearly than
+words the disapprobation of the council. At length old Ballard, one of
+the most loyal and esteemed members of the council, hazarded an
+expression of his views.
+
+"Sir William Berkeley, let me advise you as your counsellor, and warn
+you as your friend, to avoid the course prescribed by that young man.
+What effect can your bad faith with these misguided persons have, but to
+exasperate them?--and when once aroused, and once deceived, be assured
+that all attempts at reconciliation will be vain. I speak plainly, but I
+do so because not only your own safety, but the peace and prosperity of
+the colony are involved in your decision. Were not the broken pledges of
+that unhappy Stuart, to whom you have referred, the causes of that
+fearful revolution which alienated the affections of his subjects and at
+length cost him his life? Charles Stuart has not died in vain, if, by
+his death and his sufferings, he has taught his successors in power that
+candour, moderation and truth are due from a prince to his people. But,
+alas! what oceans of blood must be shed ere man will learn those useful
+lessons, which alone can ensure his happiness and secure his authority."
+
+"Zounds, Ballard," said the incensed old ruler, "you have mistaken your
+calling. I have not heard so fine a sermon this many a day, and, 'fore
+God, if you will only renounce politics, and don gown and cassock, I
+will have you installed forthwith in my dismal Hutchinson's living.
+But," he added, more seriously, as the smile of bitter derision faded
+from his lips, "I well e'en tell you that you have expressed yourself a
+matter too freely, and have forgotten what you owe to position and
+authority."
+
+"I have forgotten neither, sir," said Ballard, firmly but calmly. "I owe
+respect to position, even though I may not have it for the man who holds
+that position; and when authority is abused, I owe it alike to myself
+and to the people to check it so far as I may."
+
+The flush of passion mounted to the brow of Berkeley, as he listened to
+these words; but with a violent effort he checked the angry retort which
+rose to his lips, and turning to the rest of the council, he said:
+
+"Well, gentlemen, I will submit the proposition to you. Shall the
+commission of General of the forces of Virginia be granted to Nathaniel
+Bacon?"
+
+"Nay, Governor," interposed another of the council, "we would know
+whether you intend--"
+
+"It is of my actions that you must advise. Leave my motives to me. What
+do you advise? Shall the commission be granted?"
+
+"Aye," was responded in turn by each of the councillors at the board,
+and at the same moment the heavy tramp of approaching footsteps was
+heard, and Bacon, attended by Lawrence, Bland and Hansford, entered the
+chamber.
+
+The council remained seated and covered, and preserved the most
+imperturbable silence. It was a scene not unlike that of that ancient
+senate, who, unable to resist the attack of barbarians, evinced their
+pride and bravery by their contemptuous silence. The sun was shining
+brightly through the western windows of the chamber, and his glaring
+rays, softened and coloured by the rich red curtains of damask, threw a
+deeper flush upon the cheeks of the haughty old councillors. With their
+eyes fixed upon the intruders, they patiently awaited the result of the
+interview. On the other hand, the attitude and behaviour of the rebels
+was not less calm and dignified. They had evidently counselled well
+before they had determined to intrude thus upon the deliberations of the
+council. It was with no angry or impatient outburst of passion, with no
+air of triumph, that they came. They knew their rights, and had come to
+claim and maintain them.
+
+There were two men there, and they the youngest of that mixed assembly,
+who viewed each other with looks of darker hatred than the rest. The
+wound inflicted in Hansford's heart at Windsor Hall had not yet been
+healed--and with that tendency to injustice so habitual to lovers, with
+the proclivity of all men to seek out some one whom they may charge as
+the author of their own misfortune, he viewed Bernard with feelings of
+distrust and enmity. He felt, too, or rather he feared, that the heart
+left vacant by his own exclusion from it, might be filled with this
+young rival. Bernard, on the other hand, had even stronger reason of
+dislike, and if such motives could operate even upon the noble mind of
+Hansford, with how much greater force would they impress the selfish
+character of the young jesuit. The recollection of that last scene with
+Virginia in the park, of her unwavering devotion to her rebel lover,
+and her disregard of his own feelings came upon him now with renewed
+force, as he saw that rebel rival stand before him. Even if filial
+regard for her father's wishes and a sense of duty to herself would
+forever prevent her alliance with Hansford, Alfred Bernard felt that so
+long as his rival lived there was an insuperable obstacle to his
+acquisition of her estate, an object which he prized even more than her
+love. Thus these two young men darted angry glances at each other, and
+forgot in their own personal aggrievements, the higher principles for
+which they were engaged of loyalty on the one hand, and liberty on the
+other.
+
+Bacon was the first to break silence.
+
+"Methinks," he said, "that your honours are not inclined to fall into
+the error of deciding in haste and repenting at leisure."
+
+"Mr. Bacon," said Berkeley, "you must be aware that the appearance of
+this armed force tends to prejudice your claims. It would be indecorous
+in me to be over-awed by menaces, or to yield to compulsion. But the
+necessities of the time demand that there should be an organized force,
+to resist the encroachments of the Indians. It is, therefore, not from
+fear of your threats, but from conviction of this necessity that I have
+determined to grant you the commission which you ask, with full power to
+raise, equip, and provision an army, and with instructions, that you
+forthwith proceed to march against the savages."
+
+Bacon could scarcely suppress a smile at this boastful appearance of
+authority and disavowal of compulsion, on the part of the proud old
+Governor. It was with a thrill of rapture that he thus at last possessed
+the great object of his wishes. Already idolized by the people, he only
+needed a legal recognition of his authority to accomplish the great ends
+that he had in view. As the commission was made out in due form,
+engrossed and sealed, and handed to him, he clutched it eagerly, as
+though it were a sceptre of royal power. Little suspecting the design of
+the wily Governor, he felt all his confidence in him restored at once,
+and from his generous heart he forgave him all the past.
+
+"This commission, though military," he said, proudly, "is the seal of
+restored tranquillity to the colony. Think not it will be perverted to
+improper uses. Royalty is to Virginians what the sun is to the pious
+Persian. Virginia was the last to desert the setting sun of royalty, and
+still lingered piously and tearfully to look upon its declining rays.
+She was the first to hail the glorious restoration of its light, and as
+she worshipped its rising beams, she will never seek to quench or
+overcloud its meridian lustre. I go, gentlemen, to restore peace to the
+fireside and confidence to the hearts of this people. The sword of my
+country shall never be turned against herself."
+
+The heightened colour of his cheek, and the bright flashing of his eye,
+bespoke the pride and delight of his heart. With a profound bow he
+turned from the room, and with his aids, he descended to rejoin his
+anxious and expectant followers. In a few moments the loud shout of the
+soldiery was heard testifying their satisfaction at the result. The
+names of Berkeley and of Bacon were upon their lips--and as the proud
+old Governor gazed from the window at that happy crowd, and saw with the
+admiring eye of a brave man, the tall and martial form of Nathaniel
+Bacon at their head, he scarcely regretted in that moment that his loyal
+name had been linked with the name of a traitor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+    "Me glory summons to the martial scene,
+    The field of combat is the sphere of men;
+    Where heroes war the foremost place I claim,
+    The first in danger, as the first in fame."
+                                              _Pope's Iliad._
+
+
+We return to Virginia Temple, who, although not an eye-witness of the
+scene which we have just described, was far from being disinterested in
+its result. The words of the singular woman, with whom she had
+conversed, had made some impression upon her mind. Although disgusted
+with the facility with which Dame Drummond had distorted and perverted
+Scripture to justify her own wild absurdities, Virginia still felt that
+there was much cause for self-reproach in her conduct to her lover. She
+felt every assurance that though he might err, he would err from
+judgment alone; and how little did she know of the questions at issue
+between the aroused people and the government. Indeed, when she saw the
+character of those with whom Hansford was associated--men not impelled
+by the blind excitement of a mob, but evidently actuated by higher
+principles of right and justice, her heart misgave her that, perhaps,
+she had permitted prejudice to carry her too far in her opposition to
+their cause. The struggle in her mind was indeed an unequal one. It was
+love pleading against ignorant prejudice, and that at the forum of a
+woman's heart. Can it be wondered at that Virginia Temple, left to
+herself, without an adviser, yielded to the powerful plea, and freely
+and fully forgave her rebel lover? And when she thought, too, that,
+however guilty to his country, he had, at least, been ever faithful to
+her, she added to her forgiveness of him the bitterest self-reproach. On
+one thing she was resolved, that notwithstanding the apparent indelicacy
+of such a course, she would grant him the interview which he requested,
+and if she could not win him from his error, at least part from him,
+though forever, as a friend. She felt that it was due to her former
+love, and to his unwavering devotion, to grant this last request.
+
+Once determined on her course, the hours rolled heavily away until the
+time fixed for her appointment with Hansford. Despite her attempt to
+prove cheerful and unconcerned, her lynx-eyed mother detected her
+sadness, but was easily persuaded that it was due to a slight head-ache,
+with which she was really suffering, and which she pleaded as an excuse.
+The old lady was more easily deceived, because it tallied with her own
+idea, that Jamestown was very unhealthy, and that she, herself, could
+never breathe its unwholesome air without the most disastrous
+consequences to her health.
+
+At length, Colonel Temple, having left the crowd of busy politicians,
+who were discussing the events of the day in the hall, returned with his
+good wife to their own room. Virginia, with a beating heart, resumed her
+watch at the window, where she was to await the coming of Sarah
+Drummond. It was a warm, still night. Scarcely a breath of air was
+stirring the leaves of the long line of elms that adorned the street.
+She sat watching the silent stars, and wondering if those bright worlds
+contained scenes of sorrow and despair like this; or were they but the
+pure mansions which the Comforter was preparing in his heavenly kingdom
+for those disconsolate children of earth who longed for that peace which
+he had promised when he told his trusting disciples "Let not your heart
+be troubled, neither let it be afraid." How apt are the sorrowing souls
+of earth to look thus into the blue depths of heaven, and in their
+selfishness to think that Nature, with her host of created beings, was
+made for them. She chose from among those shining worlds, one bright and
+trembling star, which stood apart, and there transported on the wings of
+Fancy or Faith, she lived in love and peace with Hansford. Sweet was
+that star-home to the trusting girl, as she watched it in its slow and
+silent course through heaven. Free from the cares which vex the spirit
+in this dark sin-world, that happy star was filled with love, and the
+blissful pair who knew it as their home, felt no change, save in the
+"grateful vicissitude of pleasure and repose." Such was the picture
+which the young girl, with the pencil of hope, and the colours of fancy
+painted for her soul's eye. But as she gazed, the star faded from her
+sight, and a dark and heavy cloud lowered from the place where it had
+stood.
+
+At the same moment, as if the vision in which she had been rapt was
+something more than a dream, the door of her chamber opened, and Sarah
+Drummond entered. The heart of Virginia Temple nearly failed her, as she
+thought of the coincidence in time of the disappearance of the star and
+the summons to her interview with Hansford. Her companion marked her
+manner, and in a more gentle voice than she had yet assumed, she said,
+
+"Why art thou cast down, maiden? Let not your heart sink in the
+performance of a duty. Have you decided?"
+
+"Must I meet him alone?" asked Virginia. "Oh, how could he make a
+request so hard to be complied with!"
+
+"Alone!" said Sarah, with a sneer. "Yes, silly girl, reared in the
+school that would teach that woman's virtue is too frail even to be
+tempted. Yes, alone! She who cannot trust her honour to a lover, knows
+but little of the true power of love."
+
+"I will follow you," replied Virginia, firmly, and throwing a shawl
+loosely around her, she rose from her seat and prepared to go.
+
+"Come on, then," said Sarah, quickly, "there is no time to be lost. In
+an hour, at most, the triumphant defenders of right will be upon their
+march."
+
+The insurgents, wearied with their long march the night and day before,
+and finding no accommodation for their numbers in the inn, or elsewhere,
+had determined to seek a few hours repose in the green lawn surrounding
+the state-house, previous to their night march upon the Indians. It was
+here that Hansford had appointed to meet and bid farewell to his
+betrothed Virginia. Half leading, half dragging the trembling girl, who
+had already well nigh repented her resolution, Sarah Drummond walked
+rapidly down the street, in the direction of the state-house. Arrived at
+the gate, their further progress was arrested by a rough, uncouth
+sentinel, who in a coarse voice demanded who they were.
+
+"I am Sarah Drummond," said the woman, promptly, "and this young maiden
+would speak with Major Hansford."
+
+"Why, 'stains, dame, what has become of all your religion, that you
+should turn ribibe on our hands, and be bringing young hoydens this time
+o' night to the officers. For shame, Dame Drummond."
+
+"Berkenhead," cried the woman, fiercely, "we all know you for a traitor
+and a blasphemer, who serve but for the loaves and fishes, and not for
+the pure word. You gained your liberty, you know, by betraying your
+fellows in the insurrection of '62, and are a base pensioner upon the
+bounty of the Assembly for your cowardice and treason. But God often
+maketh the carnal-minded of this world to fulfil his will, and so we
+must e'en bear with you yet a little while. Come, let us pass."
+
+"Nay, dame," said the old soldier, "I care but little for your abuse;
+but duty is duty, and so an' ye give me not the shibboleth, as old
+Noll's canters would say, you may e'en tramp back. You see, I've got
+some of your slang, and will fight the devil with his own fire: 'And
+there fell of the children of Ephraim, at the passage of the Jordan--'"
+
+"Hush, blasphemer!" said Sarah, impatiently. "But if you must have the
+pass before you can admit us, take it." And she leaned forward and
+whispered in his ear the words, "Be faithful to the cause."
+
+"Right as a trivet," said Berkenhead, "and so pass on. A fig for the
+consequences, so that my skirts are clear."
+
+Relieved from this embarrassment, Sarah Drummond and her trembling
+companion passed through the gate, and proceeded up the long gravelled
+walk which led to the state-house. They had not gone far before Virginia
+Temple descried a dark form approaching them, and even before she could
+recognize the features, her heart told her it was Hansford. In another
+moment she was in his arms.
+
+"My own Virginia, my loved one," he cried, regardless of the presence of
+Mrs. Drummond, "I scarcely dared hope that you would have kept your
+promise to say farewell. Come, dearest, lean on my arm, I have much to
+tell you. You, my kind dame, remain here for a few moments--we will not
+detain you long."
+
+Quietly yielding to his request, Virginia took her lover's arm, and they
+walked silently along the path, leaving the good dame Drummond to digest
+alone her crude notions about the prospects of Israel.
+
+"Is it not singular," said Hansford at length, "that before you came, I
+thought the brief hour we must spend together was far too short to say
+half that I wish, and now I can say nothing. The quiet feeling of love,
+of pure and tranquil love, banishes every other thought from my heart."
+
+"I fear--I fear," murmured Virginia, "that I have done very wrong in
+consenting to this interview."
+
+"And why, Virginia," said her lover, "even the malefactor is permitted
+the poor privilege of bidding farewell forever to those around him--and
+am I worse than he?"
+
+"No, Hansford, no," replied Virginia, "but to come thus with a perfect
+stranger, at night, and without my father's permission, to an interview
+with one who has met with his disapprobation--"
+
+"True love," replied Hansford, sadly, "overleaps all such feeble
+barriers as these--where the happiness of the loved one is concerned."
+
+"And, therefore, I came," returned the young girl, "but you forget,
+Hansford, that the relation which once existed between us has, by our
+mutual consent, been dissolved--what then was proper cannot now be
+permitted."
+
+"If such be the case," replied Hansford, in an offended tone, "Miss
+Temple must be aware that I am the last person to urge her to continue
+in a course which her judgment disapproves. May I conduct you to your
+companion?"
+
+Virginia did not at first reply. The coldness of manner which she had
+assumed was far from being consonant with her real feelings, and the
+ingenuous girl could no longer continue the part which she attempted to
+represent. After a brief pause, the natural affection of her nature
+triumphed, and with the most artless frankness she said,
+
+"Oh, no, Hansford, my tongue can no longer speak other language than
+that which my heart dictates. Forgive me for what I have said. We cannot
+part thus."
+
+"Thanks, my dearest girl," he cried, "for this assurance. The future is
+already too dark, for the light of hope to be entirely withdrawn. These
+troublous times will soon be over, and then--"
+
+"Nay, Hansford," said Virginia, interrupting him, "I fear you cannot
+even then hope for that happiness which you profess to anticipate in our
+union. These things I have thought of deeply and sorrowfully. Whatever
+may be the issue of this unnatural contest, to us the result must be the
+same. My father's prejudices--and without his consent, I would never
+yield my hand to any one--are so strong against your cause, that come
+what may, they can never be removed."
+
+"He must himself, ere long, see the justice of our cause," said
+Hansford, confidently. "It is impossible that truth can long be hid from
+one, who, like your noble father, must ever be desirous of its success."
+
+"And do you think," returned Virginia, "that having failed to arrive at
+your conclusions in his moments of calm reflection, he will be apt to
+change his opinions under the more formidable reasoning of the bayonet?
+Believe me, Hansford, that scenes like those which we have this day
+witnessed, can never reconcile the opposing parties in this unhappy
+strife."
+
+"It is true, too true," said Hansford, sorrowfully; "and is there then
+no hope?"
+
+"Yes, there is a hope," said Virginia, earnestly. "Let not the foolish
+pride of consistency prevent you from acknowledging an error when
+committed. Boldly and manfully renounce the career into which impulse
+has driven you. Return to your allegiance--to your ancient faith; and
+believe me, that Virginia Temple will rejoice more in your repentance
+than if all the honours of martial glory, or of civic renown, were
+showered upon you. She would rather be the trusting wife of the humble
+and repentant servant of his king, than the queen of a sceptered
+usurper, who clambered to the throne through the blood of the martyrs of
+faith and loyalty."
+
+"Oh, Virginia!" said Hansford, struggling hard between duty and love.
+
+"I know it is hard to conquer the fearful pride of your heart," said
+Virginia; "but, Hansford, 'tis a noble courage that is victorious in
+such a contest. Let me hear your decision. There is a civil war in your
+heart," she added, more playfully, "and that rebel pride must succumb to
+the strong arm of your own self-government."
+
+"In God's name, tempt me no further!" cried Hansford. "We may well
+believe that man lost his high estate of happiness by the allurements of
+woman, since even now the cause of truth is endangered by listening to
+her persuasions."
+
+"I had hoped," replied the young girl, aroused by this sudden change of
+manner on the part of her lover, "that the love which you have so long
+professed was something more than mere profession. But be it so. The
+first sacrifice which you have ever been called upon to make has
+estranged your heart forever, and you toss aside the love which you
+pretended so fondly to cherish, as a toy no longer worthy of your
+regard."
+
+"This is unkind, Virginia," returned Hansford, in an injured tone. "I
+have not deserved this at your hands. Sorely you have tempted me; but,
+thank God, not even the sweet hope which you extend can allure me from
+my duty. If my country demand the sacrifice of my heart, then let the
+victim be bound upon her altar. The sweet memories of the past, the love
+which still dwells in that heart, the crushed hopes of the future, will
+all unite to form the sad garland to adorn it for the sacrifice."
+
+The tone of deep melancholy with which Hansford uttered these words
+showed how painful had been the struggle through which he had passed. It
+had its effect, too, upon the heart of Virginia. She felt how cruel had
+been her language just before--how unjust had been her charge of
+inconstancy. She saw at once the fierce contest in Hansford's breast, in
+which duty had triumphed over love. Ingenuous as she ever was, she
+acknowledged her fault, and wept, and was forgiven.
+
+"And now," said Hansford, more calmly, "my own Virginia--for I may still
+call you so--in thus severing forever the chain which has bound us, I do
+not renounce my love, nor the deep interest which I feel in your future
+destiny. I love you too dearly to wish that you should still love me;
+find elsewhere some one more worthy than I to fill your heart. Forget
+that you ever loved me; if you can, forget that you ever knew me. And
+yet, as a friend, let me warn you, with all the sincerity of my heart,
+to beware of Alfred Bernard."
+
+"Of whom?" asked Virginia, in surprise.
+
+"Of that serpent, who, with gilded crest and subtle guile, would intrude
+into the garden of your heart," continued Hansford, solemnly.
+
+"Why, Hansford," said Virginia, "you scarcely know the young man of whom
+you speak. Like you, my friend, my affections are buried in the past. I
+can never love again. But yet I would not have you wrong with unjust
+suspicions one who has never done you wrong. On the contrary, even in my
+brief intercourse with him, his conduct towards you has been courteous
+and generous."
+
+"How hard is it for innocence to suspect guile," said Hansford. "My
+sweet girl, these very professions of generosity towards me, have but
+sealed my estimate of his character. For me he entertains the deadliest
+hate. Against me he has sworn the deadliest vengeance. I tell you,
+Virginia, that if ever kindly nature implanted an instinct in the human
+heart to warn it of approaching danger, she did so when first I looked
+upon that man. My subsequent knowledge of him but strengthened this
+intuition. Mild, insinuating, and artful, he is more to be feared than
+an open foe. I dread a villain when I see him smile."
+
+"Hush! we are overheard," said Virginia, trembling, and looking around,
+Hansford saw Arthur Hutchinson, the preacher, emerging from the shadow
+of an adjacent elm tree.
+
+"Young gentleman," said Hutchinson, in his soft melodious voice, "I have
+heard unwillingly what perhaps I should not. He who would speak in the
+darkness of the night as you have spoken of an absent man, does not care
+to have many auditors."
+
+"And he who would screen himself in that darkness, to hear what he
+should not," retorted Hansford, haughtily, "is not the man to resent
+what he has heard, I fear. But what I say, I am ready to maintain with
+my sword--and if you be a friend of the individual of whom I have
+spoken, and choose to espouse his quarrel, let me conduct this young
+lady to a place of safety, and I will return to grant such satisfaction
+as you or your principal may desire."
+
+"This young maiden will tell you," said Hutchinson, "that I am not one
+of those who acknowledge that bloody arbiter between man and man, to
+which you refer."
+
+"Oh, no!" cried Virginia, in an agitated voice; "this is the good parson
+Hutchinson, of whom you have heard."
+
+"And you, maiden," said Hutchinson, "are not in the path of duty. Think
+you it is either modest or becoming, to leave your parents and your
+home, and seek a clandestine interview with this stranger. Return to
+your home. You have erred, grossly erred in this."
+
+"Nay," cried Hansford, in a threatening voice, "if you say ought in
+reproach of this young lady, by heavens, your parson's coat will scarce
+protect you from the just punishment of your insolence;" then suddenly
+checking himself, he added, "Forgive me, sir, this hasty folly. I
+believe you mean well, although your language is something of the most
+offensive. And say to your friend Mr. Bernard, all that you have heard,
+and tell him for Major Hansford, that there is an account to be settled
+between us, which I have not forgotten."
+
+"Hansford!" cried the preacher, with emotion, "Hansford, did you say?
+Look ye, sir, I am a minister of peace, and cannot on my conscience bear
+your hostile message. But I warn you, if your name indeed be Hansford,
+that you are in danger from the young man of whom you speak. His blood
+is hot, his arm is skilful, and towards you his purpose is not good."
+
+"I thank you for your timely warning, good sir," returned Hansford,
+haughtily; "but you speak of danger to one who regards it not." Then
+turning to Virginia, he said in a low voice, "'Tis at least a blessing,
+that the despair which denies to the heart the luxury of love, at least
+makes it insensible to fear."
+
+"And are you such an one," said Hutchinson, overhearing him; "and is it
+on thee that the iniquities of the father will be visited. Forbid it,
+gracious heaven, and forgive as thou would'st have me forgive the sins
+of the past."
+
+"Mr. Hutchinson," said Hansford, annoyed by the preacher's solemn manner
+and mysterious words, "I know nothing, and care little for all this
+mystery. Your brain must be a little disordered--for I assure you, that
+as I was born in the colony, and you are but a recent settler here, it
+is impossible that there can be any such mysterious tie between us as
+that at which you so darkly hint."
+
+"The day may come," replied Hutchinson, in the same solemn manner, "when
+you will know all to your cost--and when you may find that care and
+sorrow can indeed shake reason on her throne."
+
+"Well, be it so, but as you value your safety, urge me no further with
+these menaces. But pardon me, how came you in this enclosure? Know you
+not that you are within the boundaries of the General's camp, against
+his strict orders?"
+
+"Aye," replied the preacher, "I knew that the rebels were encamped
+hereabout, but I did not, and do not, see by what right they can impede
+a peaceful citizen in his movements."
+
+"Reverend sir," said Hansford, "you have the reputation of having a
+sound head on your shoulders, and should have a prudent tongue in your
+head. I would advise you, therefore, to refrain from the too frequent
+use of that word 'rebel,' which just fell from you. But it is time we
+should part. I will conduct you to the gate lest you find some
+difficulty in passing the sentry, and you will oblige me, kind sir, by
+seeing this young lady to her home." Then turning to Virginia, he
+whispered his brief adieu, and imprinting a long, warm kiss upon her
+lips, he led the way in silence to the gate. Here they parted. She to
+return to her quiet chamber to mourn over hopes thus fled forever, and
+he to forget self and sorrow in the stirring events of martial life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+      "In the service of mankind to be
+    A guardian god below; still to employ
+    The mind's brave ardour in heroic aims,
+    Such as may raise us o'er the grovelling herd
+    And make us shine forever--that is life."
+                                        _Thomson._
+
+
+In a short time the bustle and stir in the camp of the insurgents
+announced that their little army was about to commence its march.
+Nathaniel Bacon rode slowly along Stuart street, at the head of the
+soldiery, and leaving Jamestown to the east, extended his march towards
+the falls of James river. Here, he had received intelligence that the
+hostile tribes had gathered to a head, and he determined without delay
+to march upon them unawares, and with one decisive blow to put an end to
+the war. Flushed with triumph, he thought, the soldiery would more
+willingly and efficiently turn their arms against the government, and
+aid in carrying out his darling project of effecting some organic
+changes in the charter of the colony; if, indeed, it was not already his
+purpose to dissolve the political connection of Virginia with the mother
+country.
+
+The little party rode on in silence for several miles, for each was
+buried in his own reflections. Bacon, with his own peculiar views of
+ambition and glory, felt but little sympathy with those who united in
+the rebellion for the specific object of a march against the savages.
+Hansford was meditating on the heavy sacrifice which he had made for his
+country's service, and striving to see, in the dim future, some gleam of
+hope which might cheer him in his gloom. Lawrence and Drummond, the two
+most influential leaders in the movement, had been left behind in
+Jamestown, their place of residence, to watch the movements of Berkeley,
+in whose fair promises none of the insurgents seemed to place implicit
+confidence. The rest of the little party had already exhausted in
+discussion the busy events of the day, and remained silent from want of
+material for conversation.
+
+At length, however, Bacon, whose knowledge of human nature had
+penetrated the depths of Hansford's heart, and who felt deeply for his
+favourite, gave him the signal to advance somewhat in front of their
+comrades, and the following conversation took place:
+
+"And so, my friend," said Bacon, in the mild, winning voice, which he
+knew so well how to assume; "and so, my friend, you have renounced your
+dearest hopes in life for this glorious enterprise."
+
+Hansford only answered with a sigh.
+
+"Take it not thus hardly," continued Bacon. "Think of your loss as a
+sacrifice to liberty. Look to the future for your happiness, to a
+redeemed and liberated country for your home--to glory as your bride."
+
+"Alas!" said Hansford, "glory could never repay the loss of happiness.
+Believe me, General, that personal fame is not what I covet. Far better
+would it be for me to have been born and reared in obscurity, and to
+pass my brief life with those I love, than for the glittering bauble,
+glory, to give up all that is dear to the heart."
+
+"And do you repent the course you have taken," asked Bacon, with some
+surprise.
+
+"Repent! no; God forbid that I should repent of any sacrifice which I
+have made to the cause of my country. But it is duty that prompts me,
+not glory. For as to this selfsame will-o'-the-wisp, which seems to
+allure so many from happiness, I trust it not. I am much of the little
+Prince Arthur's mind--
+
+    'By my Christendom,
+    So I were out of prison and kept sheep,
+    I should be as merry as the day is long.'
+
+Duty is the prison which at last keeps man from enjoying his own happier
+inclination."
+
+"There you are wrong, Hansford," said Bacon, "duty is the poor drudge,
+which, patient in its harness, pursues the will of another. Glory is the
+wild, unconfined eagle, that impatient of restraint would soar to a
+heaven of its own."
+
+"And is it such an object as this that actuates you in our present
+enterprise?" asked Hansford.
+
+"Both," replied the enthusiastic leader. "Man, in his actions, is
+controlled by many forces--and duty is chiefly prized when it waits as
+the humble handmaiden on glory. But in this enterprise other feelings
+enter in to direct my course. Revenge against these relentless wolves of
+the forest for the murder of a friend--revenge against that proud old
+tyrant, Berkeley, who, clothed in a little brief authority, would
+trample me under his feet,--love of my country, which impels me to aid
+in her reformation, and to secure her liberty--and, nay, don't
+frown,--desire for that fame which is to the mere discharge of plain
+duty what the spirit is to the body--which directs and sustains it here,
+but survives its dissolution. Are not these sufficient motives of
+action?"
+
+"Pardon me, General," said Hansford, "but I see only one motive here
+which is worthy of you. Self-preservation, not revenge, could alone
+justify an assault upon these misguided savages--and your love of
+country is sufficient inducement to urge you to her protection and
+defence. But these motives are chiefly personal to yourself. How can you
+expect them to affect the minds of your followers?"
+
+"Look ye, Major Hansford," said Bacon, "I speak to you as I do not to
+most men--because I know you have a mind and a heart superior to
+them--I would dare not attempt to influence you as I do others; but do
+you see those poor trusting fellows that are following in our wake?
+These men help men like you and me to rise, as feathers help the eagle
+to soar above the clouds. But the proud bird may moult a feather from
+his pinion without descending from his lofty pride of place."
+
+"And this then is what you call liberty?" said Hansford, a little
+offended at the overbearing manner of the young demagogue.
+
+"Certainly," returned Bacon, calmly, "the only liberty for which the
+mass of mankind are fitted. The instincts of nature point them to the
+man most worthy to control their destinies. Their brute force aids in
+elevating him to power--and then he returns upon their heads the
+blessings with which they have entrusted him. Do you remember the happy
+compliment of my old namesake of St. Albans to Queen Elizabeth? Royalty
+is the heaven which, like the blessed sun, exhales the moisture from the
+earth, and then distilling it in gentle rains, it falleth on the heads
+of those from whom she has received it."
+
+"I remember the compliment, which beautiful though it may be in imagery,
+I always thought was but the empty flattery of a vain old royal spinster
+by an accomplished courtier. I never suspected that St. Albans, far less
+his relative, Nathaniel Bacon, believed it to be true. And so, with all
+your high flown doctrines of popular rights and popular liberty, you are
+an advocate for royalty at last."
+
+"Nay, you mistake me, I will not say wilfully," replied Bacon, in an
+offended tone, "I merely used the sentiment as an illustration of what I
+had been saying. The people must have rulers, and my idea of liberty
+only extends to their selection of them. After that, stability in
+government requires that the power of the people should cease, and that
+of the ruler begin. You may purify the stream through which the power
+flows, by constantly resorting to the fountain head; but if you keep the
+power pent up in the fountain, like water, it will stagnate and become
+impure, or else overflow its banks and devastate that soil which it was
+intended to fertilize."
+
+"Our ideas of liberty, I confess," said Hansford, "differ very widely.
+God grant that our antagonistic views may not prejudice the holy cause
+in which we are now engaged."
+
+"Well, let us drop the subject then," said Bacon, carelessly, "as there
+is so little prospect of our agreeing in sentiment. What I said was
+merely meant to while away this tedious journey, and make you forget
+your own private griefs. But tell me, what do you think of the result of
+this enterprise?"
+
+"I think it attended with great danger," replied Hansford.
+
+"I had not thought," returned Bacon, with something between a smile and
+a sneer, "that Thomas Hansford would have considered the question of
+peril involved in a contest like this."
+
+"I am at a loss to understand your meaning," said Hansford, indignantly.
+"If you think I regard danger for myself, I tell you that it is a
+feeling as far a stranger to my bosom as to your own, and this I am
+ready to maintain. If you meant no offence, I will merely say that it is
+the part of every general to 'sit down and consider the cost' before
+engaging in any enterprise."
+
+"Why will you be so quick to take offence?" said Bacon. "Do I not know
+that fear is a stranger to your breast?--else why confide in you as I
+have done? But I spoke not of the danger attending our enterprise. To me
+danger is not a matter of indifference, it is an object of desire. They
+who would bathe in a Stygian wave, to render them invulnerable, are not
+worthy of the name of heroes. It is only the unmailed warrior, whose
+form, like the white plume of Navarre, is seen where danger is the
+thickest, that is truly brave and truly great."
+
+"You are a singular being, Bacon," said Hansford, with admiration, "and
+were born to be a hero. But tell me, what is it that you expect or hope
+for poor Virginia, when all your objects may be attained? She is still
+but a poor, helpless colony, sapped of her resources by a relentless
+sovereign, and expected to submit quietly to the oppressions of those
+who would enslave her."
+
+"By heavens, no!" cried Bacon, impetuously. "It shall never be. Her
+voice has been already heard by haughty England, and it shall again be
+heard in thunder tones. She who yielded not to the call of an imperious
+dictator--she who proposed terms to Cromwell--will not long bear the
+insulting oppression of the imbecile Stuarts. The day is coming, and now
+is, when on this Western continent shall arise a nation, before whose
+potent sway even Britain shall be forced to bow. Virginia shall be the
+Rome and England shall be the Troy, and history will record the annals
+of that haughty and imperious kingdom chiefly because she was the mother
+of this western Rome. Yes," he continued, borne along impetuously by his
+own gushing thoughts, "there shall come a time when Freedom will look
+westward for her home, and when the oppressed of every nation shall
+watch with anxious eye that star of Freedom in its onward course, and
+follow its bright guidance till it stands over the place where
+Virginia--this young child of Liberty--is; and oh! Hansford, will it
+then be nothing that we were among those who watched the infant
+breathings of that political Saviour--who gave it the lessons of wisdom
+and of virtue, and first taught it to speak and proclaim its mission to
+the world? Will it then be nothing for future generations to point to
+our names, and, in the language of pride and gratitude, to cry, there go
+the authors of our freedom?"
+
+So spake the young enthusiast, thus dimly foreshadowing the glory that
+was to be--the freedom which, just one hundred years from that eventful
+period, burst upon the world. He was not permitted, like Simeon of old,
+to see the salvation for which he longed, and for which he wrought. And
+yet he helped to plant the germ, which expanded into the wide-spreading
+tree, and his name should not be forgotten by those who rejoice in its
+fruit, or rest secure beneath its shade.
+
+Thus whiling away the hours of the night in such engrossing subjects,
+Hansford had nearly forgotten his sorrows in the visions of the future.
+How beneficent the Providence which thus enables the mind to receive
+from without entirely new impressions, which soften down, though they
+cannot erase, the wounds that a harsh destiny has inflicted.
+
+But it is time that the thread of our narrative was broken, in order to
+follow the fortunes of an humble, yet worthy character of our story.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+    "I am sorry for thee; thou art come to answer
+    A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch,
+    Uncapable of pity, void and empty
+    From any claim of mercy."
+                      _Merchant of Venice._
+
+
+It was on a bright and beautiful morning--for mysterious nature often
+smiles on the darkest deeds of her children--that a group of Indians
+were assembled around the council-fire in one of the extensive forest
+ranges of Virginia. Their faces painted in the most grotesque and
+hideous manner, the fierceness of their looks, and the savageness of
+their dress, would alone have inspired awe in the breast of a spectator.
+But on the present occasion, the fatal business in which they were
+engaged imparted even more than usual wildness to their appearance and
+vehemence to their manner. Bound to a neighbouring tree so tightly as to
+produce the most acute pain to the poor creature, was an aged negro, who
+seemed to be the object of the vehement eloquence of his savage captors.
+Although confinement, torture, and despair had effected a fearful
+change, by tracing the lines of great suffering on his countenance, yet
+it would not have been difficult even then to recognize in the poor
+trembling wretch our old negro friend at Windsor Hall.
+
+After discovering the deception that had been practised on them by
+Mamalis, and punishing the selfish ambition of Manteo, by expelling him
+from their tribe, the Indian warriors returned to Windsor Hall, and
+finding the family had escaped, seized upon old Giles as the victim on
+whom to wreak their vengeance. With the savage cruelty of their race,
+his tormentors had doomed him, not to sudden death, which would have
+been welcome to the miserable wretch, but to a slow and lingering
+torture.
+
+It would be too painful to dwell long upon the nature of the tortures
+thus inflicted upon their victims. With all their coarseness and
+rudeness of manner and life, the Indians had arrived at a refinement and
+skill in cruelty which the persecutors of the reformers in Europe might
+envy, but to which they had never attained. Among these, tearing the
+nails from the hands and feet, knocking out the teeth with a club,
+lacerating the flesh with rough, dull muscle and oyster-shells,
+inserting sharp splinters into the wounded flesh, and then firing them
+until the unhappy being is gradually roasted to death--these were among
+the tortures more frequently inflicted. From the threats and
+preparations of his captors, old Giles had reason to apprehend that the
+worst of these tortures he would soon be called upon to endure.
+
+There is, thank God, a period, when the burdens of this life become so
+grievous, that the prayer of the fabled faggot-binder may rise sincerely
+on the lips, and when death would indeed be a welcome friend--when it is
+even soothing to reflect that,
+
+    "We bear our heavy burdens but a journey,
+    Till death unloads us."
+
+Such was the period at which the wretched negro had now arrived. He
+listened, therefore, with patient composure to the fierce, threatening
+language of the warriors, which his former association with Manteo
+enabled him, when aided by their wild gesticulation, to comprehend. But
+it was far from the intention of the Indians to release him yet from his
+terrible existence. One of the braves approaching the poor helpless
+wretch with a small cord of catgut, such as was used by them for
+bow-strings, prepared to bind it tightly around his thumb, while the
+others gathering around in a circle waved their war-clubs high in air to
+inflict the painful bastinado. When old Giles saw the Indian approach,
+and fully comprehended his design, his heart sank within him at this new
+instrument of torture, and in despairing accents he groaned--
+
+"Kill me, kill me, but for de Lord's sake, massa, don't put dat horrid
+thing on de poor old nigga."
+
+Regardless of his cries, the powerful Indian adjusted the cord, and with
+might and main drew it so tightly around the thumb that it entered the
+flesh even to the bone, while the poor negro shrieked in agony. Then, to
+drown the cry, the other savages commencing a wild, rude chant, let
+their war-clubs descend upon their victim with such force that he
+fainted. Just at this moment the quick ears of the Indians caught the
+almost inaudible sound of approaching horsemen, and as they paused to
+satisfy themselves of the truth of their suspicions, Bacon and his
+little band of faithful followers appeared full in sight. Leaving their
+victim in a moment, the savages prepared to defend themselves from the
+assault of their intruders, and with the quickness of thought,
+concealing themselves behind the trees and undergrowth of the forest,
+they sent a shower of arrows into the unwary ranks of their adversaries.
+
+"By Jove, that had like to have been my death-stroke," cried Bacon, as
+an arrow directed full against his breast, glanced from a gilt button of
+his coat and fell harmless to the ground. But others of the party were
+not so fortunate as their leader. Several of the men, pierced by the
+poisoned arrows of the enemy, fell dead.
+
+Notwithstanding the success of this first charge of the Indians, Bacon
+and his party sustained the shock with coolness and intrepidity. Their
+gallant leader, himself careless of life or safety, led the charge, and
+on his powerful horse he was, like the royal hero to whom he had
+compared himself, ever seen in the thickest of the carnage. Well did he
+prove himself that day worthy of the confidence of his faithful
+followers.
+
+Nor loth were the Indians to return their charge. Although their party
+only amounted to about fifty, and Bacon's men numbered several hundred,
+yet was the idea of retreat abhorrent to their martial feelings.
+Screening themselves with comparative safety behind the large forest
+trees, or lying under the protection of the thick undergrowth, they kept
+up a constant attack with their arrows, and succeeded in effecting
+considerable loss to the whites, who, incommoded by their horses, or
+unaccustomed to this system of bush fighting, failed to produce a
+corresponding effect upon their savage foe.
+
+There was something in the religion of these simple sons of the forest
+which imparted intrepid boldness to their characters, unattainable by
+ordinary discipline. The material conception which they entertained of
+the spirit-world, where valour and heroism were the passports of
+admission, created a disregard for life such as no civilized man could
+well entertain. In that new land, to which death was but the threshold,
+their pursuits were the same in character, though greater in degree, as
+those in which they here engaged. There they would be welcomed by the
+brave warriors of a former day, and engage still in fierce contests with
+hostile tribes. There they would enjoy the delights of the chase through
+spirit forests, deeper and more gigantic than those through which they
+wandered in life. Theirs was the Valhalla to which the brave alone were
+admitted, and among whose martial habitants would continue the same
+emulation in battle, the same stoicism in suffering, as in their
+forest-world. Such was the character of their simple religion, which
+created in their breasts that heroism and fortitude, in danger or in
+pain, that has with one accord been attributed to them.
+
+But despite their valour and resolution, the contest, with such
+disparity of numbers, must needs be brief. Bacon pursued each advantage
+which he gained with relentless vigour, ever and anon cheering his
+followers, and crying out, as he rushed onward to the charge, "Don't let
+one of the bloody dogs escape. Remember, my gallant boys, the peace of
+your firesides and the lives and safety of your wives and children.
+Remember the brave men who have already fallen before the hand of the
+savage foe."
+
+Faithful to his injunction, the overwhelming power of the whites soon
+strewed the ground with the bodies of the brave savages. The few who
+remained, dispirited and despairing, fled through the forest from the
+irresistible charge of the enemy.
+
+Meantime the unfortunate Giles had recovered from the swoon into which
+he had fallen, and began to look wildly about him, as though in a dream.
+To the fact that the contending parties had been closely engaged, and
+that from this cause not a gun had been fired, the old negro probably
+owed his life. With the superstition of his race, the poor creature
+attributed this fortunate succour to a miraculous interposition of
+Providence in his behalf; and when he saw the last of his oppressors
+flying before the determined onslaught of the white men, he fervently
+cried,
+
+"Thank the Lord, for he done sent his angels to stop de lion's mouf, and
+to save de poor old nigger from dere hands."
+
+"Hallo, comrades," said Berkenhead, when he espied the poor old negro
+bound to the tree, "who have we here? This must be old Ochee[37]
+himself, whom the Lord has delivered into our hands. Hark ye," he
+added, proceeding to unbind him, "where do you come from?--or are you in
+reality the evil one, whom these infidel red-skins worship?"
+
+"Oh, no, Massa, I a'ant no evil sperrit. A sperrit hab not flesh and
+bones as you see me hab."
+
+"Nay," returned the coarse-hearted soldier, "that reasoning won't serve
+your purpose, for there is precious little flesh and blood about you,
+old man. The most you can lay claim to is skin and bones."
+
+Hansford, who had been standing a little distance off, was attracted by
+this conversation, and turning in the direction of the old negro, was
+much surprised to recognize, under such horrible circumstances, the
+quondam steward, butler and factotum of Windsor Hall. Nor was Giles'
+surprise less in meeting with Miss Virginia's "buck" in so secluded a
+spot. It was with difficulty that Hansford could prevent him from
+throwing his arms around his neck; but giving the old man a hearty shake
+of the hand, he asked him the story of his captivity, which Giles, with
+much importance, proceeded to relate. But he had scarcely begun his
+narrative, when the attention of the insurgents was attracted by the
+approach of two horsemen, who advanced towards them at a rapid rate, as
+though they had some important intelligence to communicate.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[37] The evil spirit, sometimes called Opitchi Manitou, and worshipped
+by the Indians.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+    "Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks,
+    Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast."
+                                      _Richard III._
+
+
+The new comers were Lawrence and Drummond, who, as will be recollected
+by the reader, were left in Jamestown to watch the proceedings of the
+Governor, and to convey to Bacon any needful intelligence concerning
+them. Although he had, in the first impulse of triumph after receiving
+his commission, confided fully in the promises of the vacillating
+Berkeley, yet, on reflection, Bacon did not rely very implicitly upon
+them. The Governor had once before broken his word in the affair of the
+parole, promising to grant the commission which he craved, upon
+condition of his confession of his former disloyal conduct and his
+promise to amend. Bacon was not the man to be twice deceived, and it did
+not therefore much surprise him to see the two patriots so soon after
+his departure from Jamestown, nor to hear the strange tidings which they
+had come to detail.
+
+"Why, how is this, General?" said Lawrence. "You have had bloody work
+already, it seems; and not without some loss to your own party."
+
+"Yes, there they lie," returned Bacon. "God rest their brave souls! But
+being dead, they yet speak--speak to us to avenge their death on the
+bloody savages who have slaughtered them, and to proclaim the insane
+policy of Berkeley in delaying our march against the foe. But what make
+you from Jamestown?"
+
+"Bad news or good, General, as you choose to take it," replied Lawrence.
+"Berkeley has dissolved the Assembly in a rage, because they supported
+you in your demand of yesterday, and has himself, with his crouching
+minions, retired to Gloucester."
+
+"To Gloucester!" cried Bacon. "That is indeed news. But what can the old
+dotard mean by such a movement?"
+
+"He has already made known his reasons," returned Lawrence. "He has
+cancelled your commission, and proclaimed you, and all engaged with you,
+as rebels and traitors."
+
+"Why, this is infamous!" said Bacon. "Is the old knave such an enemy to
+truth that it cannot live upon his lips for one short day? And who,
+pray, is rash enough to uphold him in his despotism, or base enough to
+screen him in his infamy?"
+
+"It was whispered as we left," said Drummond, "that a certain Colonel
+Henry Temple had avouched the loyalty of Gloucester, and prevailed upon
+the Governor to make his house his castle, during what he is pleased to
+term this unhappy rebellion."
+
+"And by my soul," said Bacon, fiercely, "I will teach this certain
+Colonel Henry Temple the hazard that he runs in thus abetting tyranny
+and villainy. If he would not have his house beat down over his ears, he
+were wise to withdraw his aid and support; else, if his house be a
+castle at all, it is like to be a castle in Spain."
+
+Hansford, who was an eager listener, as we may suppose, to the foregoing
+conversation, was alarmed at this determination of his impulsive leader.
+He knew too well the obstinate loyalty of Temple to doubt that he would
+resist at every hazard, rather than deliver his noble guest into the
+hands of his enemies. He felt assured, too, that if the report were
+true, Virginia had accompanied her father to Gloucester, and his very
+soul revolted at the idea of her being subjected to the disagreeable
+results which would flow from an attack upon Windsor Hall. The only
+chance of avoiding the difficulty, was to offer his own mediation, and
+in the event, which he foresaw, of Colonel Temple refusing to come to
+terms, he trusted that there was at least magnanimity enough left in the
+old Governor to induce him to seek some other refuge, rather than to
+subject his hospitable and loyal host to the consequences of his
+kindness. There was indeed some danger attending such a mission in the
+present inflamed state of Berkeley's mind. But this, Hansford held at
+naught. Hastily revolving in his mind these thoughts, he ventured to
+suggest to Bacon, that an attack upon Colonel Temple's house would
+result in the worst consequences to the cause of the patriots; that it
+would effect no good, as the Governor might again promise, and again
+recant--and, that it would be difficult to induce his followers to
+embark in an enterprise so foreign to the avowed object of the
+expedition, and against a man whose character was well known, and
+beloved by the people of the Colony.
+
+Bacon calmly heard him through, as though struck with the truth of the
+views he presented, and then added with a sarcastic smile, which stung
+Hansford to the quick, "and moreover, the sight of soldiers and of
+fire-arms might alarm the ladies."
+
+"And, if such a motive as that did influence my opinion," said Hansford,
+"I hope it was neither unworthy a soldier or a man."
+
+"Unworthy alike of both," replied Bacon, "of a soldier, because the will
+and command of his superior officer should be his only law--and of a
+man, because, in a cause affecting his rights and liberties, any
+sacrifice of feeling should be willingly and cheerfully made."
+
+"That sacrifice I now make," said Hansford, vainly endeavouring to
+repress his indignation, "in not retorting more harshly to your
+imputation. The time may yet come when no such sacrifice shall be
+required, and when none, I assure you, shall be made."
+
+"And, when it comes, young man," returned Bacon, haughtily, "be assured
+that I will not be backward in affording you an opportunity of defending
+yourself--meantime you are under my command--and will please remember
+that you are so. But, gentlemen," he continued, turning to the others,
+"what say you to our conduct in these circumstances. Shall we proceed to
+Powhatan, against the enemy of a country to which we are traitors, or
+shall we march on this mendacious old Knight, and once again wipe off
+the stigma which he has placed upon our names?"
+
+"I think," said Lawrence, after a pause of some moments, "that there is
+a good deal of truth in the views presented by Major Hansford. But,
+could not some middle course be adopted. I don't exactly see how it can
+be effected, but, if the Governor were met by remonstrance of his
+injustice, and informed of our determination to resist it as such, it
+seems to me that he would be forced to recant this last proclamation,
+and all would be well again."
+
+"And who think you would carry the remonstrance," said Bacon. "It would
+be about as wise to thrust your head in a lion's mouth, as to trust
+yourself in the hands of the old fanatic. I know not whom we could get
+to bear such a mission," he added, smiling, "unless our friend Ingram
+there, who having been accustomed to ropes in his youth, if report
+speaks true, need have no fear of them in age."[38]
+
+"In faith, General," replied the quondam rope-dancer, "I am only expert
+in managing the cable when it supports my feet. But I have never been
+able to perform the feat of dancing on nothing and holding on by my
+neck."
+
+"General Bacon," said Hansford, stepping forward, "I am willing to
+execute your mission to the Governor."
+
+"My dear boy," said Bacon, grasping him warmly by the hand, "forgive me
+for speaking so roughly to you just now, I am almost ready to cut my
+tongue out of my head for having said anything to wound your feelings.
+But damn that old treacherous fox, he inflamed me so, that I must have
+let out some of my bad humour or choked in retaining it."
+
+Hansford returned his grasp warmly, perhaps the more ready to forgive
+and forget, as he saw a prospect of attaining his object in protecting
+the family of his friend from harm.
+
+"But you shall not go," continued Bacon. "It were madness to venture
+within the clutch of the infuriated old madman."
+
+"Whatever were the danger," said Hansford, "this was my proposition, and
+on me devolves the peril, if peril there be in its execution. But there
+is really none. Colonel Temple, although a bigot in his loyalty, is the
+last person to violate the rites of hospitality or to despise a flag of
+truce. And Sir William Berkeley dare not disregard either whilst under
+his roof."
+
+"Well, so let it be then," said Bacon, "but I fear that you place too
+much reliance on the good faith of your old friend Temple. Believe me,
+that these Tories hold a doctrine in their political creed, very much
+akin to the Papal doctrine of intolerance. 'Faith towards heretics, is
+infidelity to religion.' But you must at least take some force with
+you."
+
+"I believe not," returned our hero, "the presence of an armed force
+would be an insuperable barrier to a reconciliation. I will only take my
+subaltern, Berkenhead, yonder, and that poor old negro, in whose
+liberation I sincerely rejoice. The first will be a companion, and in
+case of danger some protection; and the last, if you choose," he added
+smiling, "will be a make-peace between the political papist and the
+rebel heretic."
+
+"Well, God bless you, Hansford," said Bacon, with much warmth, "and
+above all, forget my haste and unkindness just now. We must learn to
+forgive like old Romans, if we would be valiant like them, and so
+
+    'When I am over-earnest with you, Hansford,
+    You'll think old Berkeley chides, and leave me so.'"
+
+"With all my heart, my noble General," returned Hansford, laughing, "and
+now for my mission--what shall I say on behalf of treason to his royal
+highness?"
+
+"Tell him," said Bacon, gravely, "that Nathaniel Bacon, by the grace of
+God, and the special trust and confidence of Sir William Berkeley,
+general-in-chief of the armies of Virginia, desires to know for what act
+of his, since such trust was reposed in him, he and his followers have
+been proclaimed as traitors to their king. Ask him for what reason it is
+that while pursuing the common enemies of the country--while attacking
+in their lairs the wolves and lions of the forest, I, myself, am
+mercilessly assaulted like a savage wild beast, by those whom it is my
+object to defend. Tell him that I require him to retract the
+proclamation he has issued without loss of time, and in the event of his
+refusal, I am ready to assert and defend the rights of freemen by the
+last arbiter between man and man. Lastly, say to him, that I will await
+his answer until two days from this time, and should it still prove
+unfavourable to my demands, then woe betide him."
+
+Charged with the purport of his mission, Hansford shook Bacon cordially
+by the hand, and proceeded to prepare for his journey. As he was going
+to inform his comrade, old Lawrence gently tapped him on the shoulder,
+and whispered, "Look ye, Tom, I like not the appearance of that fellow
+Berkenhead."
+
+"He is faithful, I believe," said Hansford, in the same tone; "a little
+rough and free spoken, perhaps, but I do not doubt his fidelity."
+
+"I would I were of the same mind," returned his companion; "but if ever
+the devil set his mark upon a man's face that he might know him on the
+resurrection morning, he did so on that crop-eared Puritan. Tell me,
+aint he the same fellow that got his freedom and two hundred pounds for
+revealing the insurrection of sixty-two?"
+
+"The same, I believe," said Hansford, carelessly; "but what of that?"
+
+"Why simply this," said the honest old cavalier, "that faith is like a
+walking-cane. Break it once and you may glue it so that the fracture can
+scarcely be seen by the naked eye; but it will break in the same place
+if there be a strain upon it."
+
+"I hope you are mistaken," said Hansford; "but I thank you for your
+warning, and will not disregard it. I will be on my guard."
+
+"Here, Lawrence," cried Bacon, "what private message are you sending to
+the Governor, that you must needs be delaying our ambassador? We have a
+sad duty to perform. These brave men, who have fallen in our cause, must
+not be suffered to lie a prey to vultures. Let them be buried as becomes
+brave soldiers, who have died right bravely with their harness on. I
+would there were some one here who could perform the rites of
+burial--but their requiem shall be sung with our song of triumph. Peace
+to their souls! Comrades, prepare their grave, and pay due honour to
+their memory by discharging a volley of musketry over them. I wot they
+well loved the sound while living--nor will they sleep less sweetly for
+it now."
+
+By such language, and such real or affected interest in the fate of
+those who followed his career, Nathaniel Bacon won the affection of his
+soldiery. Never was there a leader, even in the larger theatres of
+action, more sincerely beloved and worshipped--and to this may be
+attributed in a great degree the wonderful power which he possessed over
+the minds of his followers--moulding their opinions in strict
+conformity with his own; breathing into them something of the ardent
+heroism which inspired his own soul, and making them thus the willing
+and subservient instruments of his own ambitious designs.
+
+With sad countenances the soldiers proceeded to obey the order of their
+general. Scooping with their swords and bayonets a shallow grave in the
+soft virgin soil of the forest, they committed the bodies of their
+comrades to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to
+dust--and as they screened their ashes forever from the light of day,
+the "aisles of the dim woods" echoed back the loud roar of the unheard,
+unheeded honour which they paid to the memory of the dead.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[38] He was in truth a rope-dancer in his early life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+    "But the poor dog, in life the dearest friend,
+    The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
+    Whose honest heart is still his master's own;
+    Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
+    Unhonoured falls, unnoticed all his worth,
+    Denied in heaven the soul he had on earth."
+                                          _Byron._
+
+
+When the last sad rites of burial had been performed over the grave of
+those who had fallen, Hansford, accompanied by Berkenhead and old Giles,
+proceeded to the discharge of the trust which had been reposed in him.
+It was indeed a mission fraught with the most important consequences to
+the cause of the insurgents, to the family at Windsor Hall, and to
+himself personally. It required both a cool head and a brave heart to
+succeed in its execution. Hansford well knew that the first burst of
+rage from the old Governor, on hearing the bold proposition of the
+rebels, would be dangerous, if not fatal to himself; and with all the
+native boldness of his character, it would be unnatural if he failed to
+feel the greatest anxiety for the result. But even if _he_ escaped the
+vengeance of Berkeley, he feared the impulsive nature of Bacon, in the
+event of the refusal of Sir William to comply with his demands, would
+drive him into excesses ruinous to his cause, and dangerous alike to the
+innocent and the guilty. If Temple's obstinacy and chivalry persisted in
+giving refuge to the Governor, what, he thought, might be the
+consequences to her, whose interest and whose safety he held so deeply
+at heart! Thus the statesman, the lover, and the individual, each had a
+peculiar interest in the result, and Hansford felt like a wise man the
+heavy responsibility he had incurred, although he resolved to encounter
+and discharge it like a bold one.
+
+It was thus, with a heavy heart that he proceeded on his way, and buried
+in these reflections he maintained a moody silence, little regarding the
+presence of his two companions. Old Giles, too, had his own food for
+reflection, and vouchsafed only monosyllables in reply to the questions
+and observations of the loquacious Berkenhead. But the soldier was not
+to be repulsed by the indifference of the one, or the laconic answers of
+the other of his companions. Finding it impossible to engage in
+conversation, he contented himself with soliloquy, and in a low,
+muttering voice, as if to himself, but intended as well for the ears of
+his commander, he began an elaborate comparison of the army of Cromwell,
+in which he had served, and the army of the Virginia insurgents.
+
+"To be sure, they both fought for liberty, but after that there is
+monstrous little likeness between 'em. Old Noll was always acting
+himself, and laying it all to Providence when he was done; while General
+Bacon, cavorting round, first after the Indians and then after the
+Governor, seems hardly to know what he is about, and yet, I believe,
+trusts in Providence at last more than Noll, with all his religion; and,
+faith, it seems to me it took more religion to do him than most any man
+I ever see. First psalm singing, and then fighting, and then psalm
+singing agen, and then more fighting--for all the world like a brick
+house with mortar stuck between. But I trow that it was the fighting
+that made the house stand, after all. And yet I believe, for all the
+saints used to nickname me a sinner, and call me one of the spawn of the
+beast, because I would get tired of the Word sometimes--and, by the same
+token, old brother Purge-the-temple Whithead had a whole dictionary of
+words, much less the one--yet, for all come and gone, I believe I would
+rather hear a long psalm, than to be doomed to solitary confinement to
+my own thoughts, as I am here."
+
+"And so you have served in old Noll's army, as you call it," said
+Hansford, smiling in spite of himself, and willing to indulge the old
+Oliverian with some little notice.
+
+"Oh, yes, Major," replied Berkenhead, delighted to have gained an
+auditor at last; "and a rare service it was too. A little too much of
+what they called the church militant, and the like, for me; but for all
+that the fellows fought like devils, if they did live like saints--and,
+what was rare to me, they did not deal the less lightly with their
+swords for the fervour of their prayers, nor pray the less fervently for
+their enemies after they had raked them with their fire, or hacked them
+to pieces with their swords. 'Faith, an if there had been many more
+battles like Dunbar and Worcester, they had as well have blotted that
+text from their Bible, for precious few enemies did they have to pray
+for after that."
+
+"You did not agree with these zealots in religion, then," said Hansford.
+"Prythee, friend, of what sect of Christians are you a member?"
+
+"Well, Major, to speak the truth and shame the devil, as they say, my
+religion has pretty much gone with my sword. As a soldier must change
+his coat whenever he changes his service, so I have thought he should
+make his faith--the robe of his righteousness, as they call it--adapt
+itself to that of his employer."
+
+"The cloak of his hypocrisy, you mean," said Hansford, indignantly. "I
+like not this scoffing profanity, and must hear no more of it. He who is
+not true to his God is of a bad material for a patriot. But tell me," he
+added, seeing that the man seemed sufficiently rebuked, "how came you to
+this colony?"
+
+"Simply because I could not stay in England," replied Berkenhead. "Mine
+has been a hard lot, Major; for I never got what I wanted in this life.
+If I was predestined for anything, as old Purge-the-temple used to say
+we all were, it seems to me it was to be always on the losing side. When
+I fought for freedom in England, I gained bondage in Virginia for my
+pains; and when I refused to seek my freedom, and betrayed my comrades
+in the insurrection of sixty-two, lo, and behold! I was released from
+bondage for my reward. What I will gain or lose by this present
+movement, I don't know; but I have been an unlucky adventurer thus far."
+
+"I have heard of your behaviour in sixty-two," said Hansford, "but
+whether such conduct be laudable or censurable, depends very much upon
+the motive that prompted you to it. You came to this country then as an
+indented servant?"
+
+"Yes, sold, your honour, for the thirty pieces of silver, like Joseph
+was sold into Egypt by his brethren."
+
+"I suspect that the resemblance between yourself and that eminent
+patriarch ceased with the sale."
+
+"It is not for me to say, your honour. But in the present unsettled
+state of affairs, who knows who may be made second only to Pharaoh over
+all Egypt? I wot well who will be our Pharaoh, if we gain our point; and
+I have done the state some service, and may yet do her more."
+
+"By treachery to your comrades, I suppose," said Hansford, disgusted
+with the conceit and self-complacency of the man.
+
+"Now, look ye here, Major, if I was disposed to be touchy, I might take
+exception at that remark. But I have seen too much of life to fly off at
+the first word. The axe that flies from the helve at the first stroke,
+may be sharp as a grindstone can make it, but it will never cut a tree
+down for all that."
+
+"And if you were to fly off, as you call it, at the first or the last
+word," said Hansford, haughtily, "you would only get a sound beating for
+your pains. How dare you speak thus to your superior, you insolent
+knave!"
+
+"No insolence, Major," said Berkenhead, sulkily; "but for the matter of
+speaking against your honour, I have seen my betters silenced in their
+turn, by their superiors."
+
+"Silence, slave!" cried Hansford, his face flushing with indignation at
+this allusion to his interview with Bacon, which he had hoped, till now,
+had been unheard by the soldiers. "But come," he added, reflecting on
+the imprudence of losing his only friend and ally in this perilous
+adventure, "you are a saucy knave, but I suppose I must e'en bear with
+you for the present. We cannot be far from Windsor Hall, I should
+think."
+
+"About two miles, as I take it, Major," said Berkenhead, in a more
+respectful manner. "I used to live in Gloucester, not far from the hall,
+and many is the time I have followed my master through these old woods
+in a deer chase. Yes, there is Manteo's clearing, just two miles from
+the hall."
+
+Scarcely were the words out of the speaker's mouth, when, to the
+surprise of the little party, a large dog of the St. Bernard's breed
+leaped from a thicket near them, and bounded towards Hansford.
+
+"Brest ef it a'ant old Nestor," said Giles, whose tongue had at length
+been loosened by the sight of the family favourite, and he stooped down
+as he spoke to pat the dog upon the head. But Nestor's object was
+clearly not to be caressed. Frisking about in a most extraordinary
+manner, now wagging his tail, now holding it between his legs, now
+bounding a few steps in front of Hansford's horse, and anon crouching by
+his side and whining most piteously, he at length completed his
+eccentric movements by standing erect upon his hind legs and placing his
+fore feet against the breast of his old master. Struck with this
+singular conduct, Hansford, reining in his horse, cried out, "The poor
+dog must be mad. Down, Nestor, down I tell you!"
+
+Well was it for our hero that the faithful animal refused to obey, for
+just at that moment an arrow was heard whizzing through the air, and the
+noble dog fell transfixed through the neck with the poisoned missile,
+which else had pierced Hansford's heart.[39] The alarm caused by so
+sudden and unexpected an attack had not passed off, before another arrow
+was buried deep in our hero's shoulder. But quick as were the movements
+of the attacking party, the trained eye of Berkenhead caught a glimpse
+of the tall form of an Indian as it vanished behind a large oak tree,
+about twenty yards from where they stood. The soldier levelled his
+carbine, and as Manteo (for the reader has probably already conjectured
+that it was he) again emerged from his hiding place to renew the attack,
+he discharged his piece with deadly aim and effect. With a wild yell of
+horror, the young warrior sprang high in the air, and fell lifeless to
+the ground.
+
+Berkenhead was about to rush forward towards his victim, when Hansford,
+who still retained his seat on the horse, though faint from pain and
+loss of blood, cried out, "Caution, caution, for God's sake, there are
+more of the bloody villains about." But after a few moments' pause, the
+apprehension of a further attack passed away, and the soldier and Giles
+repaired to the spot. And there in the cold embrace of death, lay the
+brave young Indian, his painted visage reddened yet more by the
+life-blood which still flowed from his wound. His right hand still
+grasped the bow-string, as in his last effort to discharge the fatal
+arrow. A haughty smile curled his lip even in the moment in which the
+soul had fled, as if in that last struggle his brave young heart
+despised the pang of death itself.
+
+Gazing at him for a moment, yet long enough for old Giles to recognize
+the features of Manteo in the bloody corpse, they returned to Hansford,
+whose condition indeed required their immediate assistance. Drawing out
+the arrow, and staunching the blood as well as they could with his
+scarf, Berkenhead bandaged it tightly, and although still in great pain,
+the wounded man was enabled slowly to continue his journey. A ride of
+about half an hour brought the little party to the door of Windsor
+Hall.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[39] An incident somewhat similar to this is on record as having
+actually occurred.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+                  "I'll tell thee truth--
+    Too oft a stranger to the royal ear,
+    But far more wholesome than the honeyed lies
+    That fawning flatterers offer."
+                        _Any Port in a Storm._
+
+
+Brief as was the time which had elapsed, the old hall presented a
+different appearance to Hansford, from that which it maintained when he
+last left it under such disheartening circumstances. The notable
+mistress of the mansion had spared no pains to prepare for the reception
+of her honoured guest; and, although she took occasion to complain to
+her good husband of his inconsiderate conduct, in foisting all these
+strangers upon her at once, yet she inwardly rejoiced at the opportunity
+it presented for a display of her admirable housewifery. Indeed, the
+ease-loving old Colonel almost repented of his hospitality, amid the
+bustle and hurry, the scolding of servants, and the general bad humour
+which were all necessary incidents to the good dame's preparation.
+Having finally "brought things to something like rights," as she
+expressed it, her next care was to provide for the entertainment of her
+distinguished guest, which to the mind of the benevolent old lady,
+consisted not in sparkling conversation, or sage counsels, (then, alas!
+much needed by the Governor,) but in spreading a table loaded with a
+superabundance of delicacies to tempt his palate, and cause him to
+forget his troubles. It was a favourite saying of hers, caught up most
+probably in her early life, during the civil war in England, that if the
+stomach was well garrisoned with food, the heart would never capitulate
+to sorrow.
+
+But the truth of this apothegm was not sustained in the present
+instance. Her hospitable efforts, even when united with the genial good
+humour and kindness of her husband were utterly unavailing to dispel the
+gloom which hung over the inmates of Windsor Hall. Sir William Berkeley
+was himself dejected and sad, and communicated his own dejection to all
+around him. Indeed, since his arrival at the Hall, he had found good
+reason to repent his haste in denouncing the popular and gifted young
+insurgent. The pledge made by Colonel Temple of the loyalty of the
+people of Gloucester, had not been redeemed--at least so far as an
+active support of the Governor was concerned. Berkeley's reception by
+them was cold and unpromising. The enthusiasm which he had hoped to
+inspire no where prevailed, and the old man felt himself deserted by
+those whose zealous co-operation he had been led to anticipate. It was
+true that they asserted in the strongest terms their professions of
+loyal devotion, and their willingness to quell the first symptoms of
+rebellion, but they failed to see anything in the conduct of Bacon to
+justify the harsh measures of Berkeley towards him and his followers.
+"Lip-service--lip-service," said the old Governor, sorrowfully, as their
+decision was communicated to him, "they draw near to me with their
+mouth, and honour me with their lips, but their heart is far from me."
+But, notwithstanding his disappointment, nothing could shake the proud
+spirit of Berkeley in his inflexible resolution, to resist any
+encroachments on his prerogative; and, so providing his few followers
+with arms from the adjacent fort on York River, he prepared to maintain
+his power and his dignity by the sword.
+
+Such was the state of things on the evening that Thomas Hansford and his
+companions arrived at Windsor Hall. The intelligence of their arrival
+created much excitement, and the inmates of the mansion differed greatly
+in their opinions as to the intention of the young rebel. Poor Mrs.
+Temple, in whose mind fear always predominated over every other feeling,
+felt assured that Hansford had come, attended by another "ruffian,"
+forcibly to abduct Virginia from her home--and a violent fit of
+hysterics was the result of her suspicions. Virginia herself,
+vacillating between hope and fear, trusted, in the simplicity of her
+young, girlish heart, that her lover had repented of his grievous error,
+and had come to claim her love, and to sue to the Governor for pardon.
+Sir William Berkeley saw in the mission of Hansford, a faint hope that
+the rebels, alarmed by his late proclamation, had determined to return
+to their allegiance, and that Hansford was the bearer of a proposition
+to this effect, imploring at the same time the clemency and pardon of
+the government, against which they had so grievously offended.
+
+"And they shall receive mercy, too, at my hands, "said the old knight,
+as a tear glistened in his eye. "They have learned to fear the power of
+the government, and to respect its justice, and they shall now learn to
+love its merciful clemency. God forbid, that I should chasten my
+repenting people, except as children, for their good."
+
+"Not so fast, my honoured Governor," said Philip Ludwell, who, with the
+other attendants of Berkeley, had gathered around him in the porch; "you
+may be mistaken in your opinion. I believe--I know--that your wish is
+father to the thought in this matter. But look at the resolution and
+determined bearing of that young man. Is his the face or the bearing of
+a suppliant?"
+
+Ludwell was right. The noble countenance of Hansford, always expressive,
+though sufficiently respectful to the presence which he was about to
+enter, indicated any thing rather than tame submission. His face was
+very pale, and his lip quivered for a moment as he approached the
+anxious crowd of loyalists, who remained standing in the porch, but it
+was at once firmly compressed by the strength of resolution. As he
+advanced, he raised his hat and profoundly saluted the Governor, and
+then drawing himself up to his full height, he stood silently awaiting
+some one to speak. Colonel Temple halted a moment between his natural
+kindness for his friend and his respect for the presence of Sir William
+Berkeley. The first feeling prompted him to rush up to Hansford, and
+greeting him as of old, to give him a cordial welcome to the hall--but
+the latter feeling prevailed. Without advancing, then, he said in a
+tone, in which assumed displeasure strove in vain to overcome his native
+benevolence--
+
+"To what cause am I to attribute this unexpected visit of Mr. Hansford?"
+
+"My business is with Sir William Berkeley," replied Hansford,
+respectfully, "and I presume I am not mistaken in supposing that I am
+now in his presence."
+
+"And what would you have from me young man," said Berkeley, coldly;
+"your late career has estranged you and some of your friends so entirely
+from their Governor, that I feel much honoured by this evidence of your
+returning affection."
+
+"Both I and my friends, as far as I may speak for them," returned
+Hansford, in the same calm tone, "have ever been ready and anxious to
+show our devotion to our country and its rulers, and our present career
+to which your excellency has been pleased to allude, is in confirmation
+of the fact. That we have unwittingly fallen under your displeasure,
+sir, I am painfully aware. To ascertain the cause of that displeasure is
+my reason for this intrusion."
+
+"The cause, young man," said Berkeley, "is to be found in your own
+conduct, for which, may I hope, you have come for pardon?"
+
+"I regret to say that you are mistaken in your conjecture," replied
+Hansford. "As it is impossible that our conduct could have invoked your
+displeasure, so it is equally impossible that we should sue for pardon
+for an offence which we have never committed."
+
+"And, prythee, what then is your worshipful pleasure, fair sir," said
+Berkeley, ironically; "perhaps, in the abundance of your mercy, you have
+come to grant pardon, if you do not desire it. Nay!" he exclaimed,
+seeing Hansford shake his head; "then, peradventure, you would ask me to
+abdicate my government in favour of young Cromwell. I beg pardon--young
+Bacon, I should say--the similarity of their views is so striking, that
+as my memory is but a poor one, I sometimes confound their names. Well!
+any thing in reason. Nay, again!--well then, I am at a loss to
+conjecture, and you must yourself explain the object of your visit."
+
+"I would fain convey my instructions to Sir William Berkeley's private
+ear," said Hansford, unmoved by the irony of the old knight.
+
+"Oh pardon me, fair sir," said Berkeley; "yet, in this I _must_ crave
+your pardon, indeed. A sovereign would never wittingly trust himself
+alone with a rebel, and neither will I, though only an obscure colonial
+Governor. There are none but loyal ears here, and I trust Mr. Hansford
+has no tidings which can offend them."
+
+"I am sure," said Hansford, in reply, "that Sir William Berkeley does
+not for a moment suspect that I desired to see him in private from any
+sinister or treasonable motive."
+
+"I know, sir," said Berkeley, angrily, "that you have proved yourself a
+traitor, and, therefore, I have the best reason for suspecting you of
+treasonable designs. But I have no time--no disposition to dally with
+you thus. Tell me, what new treason, that my old ears are yet strangers
+to, I am yet doomed to hear?"
+
+"My instructions are soon told," said Hansford, repressing his
+indignation. "General Nathaniel Bacon, by virtue of your own commission,
+Commander-in-chief of the forces of Virginia, desires to know, and has
+directed me to inquire, for what cause you have issued a proclamation
+declaring both him and his followers traitors to their country and
+king?"
+
+Berkeley stood the shock much better than Hansford expected. His face
+flushed for a moment, but only for a moment, as he replied,--
+
+"This is certainly an unusual demand of a rebel; but sir, as I have
+nothing to fear from an exposure of my reasons, I will reply, that
+Nathaniel Bacon is now in arms against the government of Virginia."
+
+"Not unless the government of Virginia be allied with the Indians,
+against whom he is marching," said Hansford, calmly.
+
+"Aye, but it is well known," returned Berkeley, "that he has covert
+views of his own to attain, under pretext of this expedition against the
+Indians."
+
+"Why, then," replied Hansford, "if they are covert from his own
+followers, proclaim them traitors with himself; or, if covert from the
+government, how can you ascertain that they are treasonable? But, above
+all, if you suspected such traitorous designs, why, by your commission,
+elevate him to a position in which he may be able to execute them with
+success?"
+
+"'Fore God, gentlemen, this is the most barefaced insolence that I have
+ever heard. For yourself, young man, out of your own mouth will I judge
+you, and convict you of treason; and for your preceptor--whose lessons,
+I doubt not, you repeat by rote--you may tell him that his commission is
+null and void, because obtained by force and arms."
+
+"I had not expected to hear Sir William Berkeley make such an
+acknowledgment," returned Hansford, undauntedly. "You yourself declared
+that the commission was not given from fear of threats; and even if this
+were not so, the argument would scarce avail--for on what compulsion
+was it that your signature appears in a letter to his majesty, warmly
+approving the conduct of General Bacon, and commending him for his zeal,
+talents and patriotism?"[40]
+
+"Now, by my knighthood," said Berkeley, stung by this last unanswerable
+argument, "I will not be bearded thus by an insolent, braggart boy.
+Seize him!" he cried, turning to Bernard and Ludwell, who stood nearest
+him. "He is my prisoner, and as an example to his vile confederates, he
+shall hang in half an hour, until his traitorous tongue has stopped its
+vile wagging."
+
+Hansford made no attempt to escape, but, as the two men approached to
+disarm and bind him, he fixed his fine blue eyes full upon Colonel
+Temple, and said, mildly,
+
+"Shall this be so? Though Sir William Berkeley should fail to respect my
+position, as the bearer of a peaceable message from General Bacon, I
+trust that the rites of hospitality may not be violated, even in my
+humble person."
+
+Colonel Temple was much embarrassed. Notwithstanding the recent conduct
+of Hansford had alienated him to a great degree, he still entertained a
+strong affection for his boy--nor could he willingly see him suffer a
+wrong when he had thus so confidingly trusted to his generosity. But,
+apart from his special interest in Hansford, the old Virginian had a
+religious regard for the sacred character of a guest, which he could
+never forget. And yet, his blind reverence for authority--the bigoted
+loyalty which has always made the English people so cautious in
+resistance to oppression, and which retarded indeed our own colonial
+revolution--made him unwilling to oppose his character of host to the
+authority of the Governor. He looked first at Sir William Berkeley, and
+his resolution was made; he turned to Hansford, and as he saw his noble
+boy standing resolutely there, without a friend to aid him, it wavered.
+The poor old gentleman was sadly perplexed, but, after a brief struggle,
+his true, generous heart conquered, and he said, turning to Sir William:
+
+"My honoured sir, I trust you will not let this matter proceed any
+further here. My house, my life, my all, is at the service of the king
+and of his representative; but I question how far we are warranted in
+proceeding to extremities with this youth, seeing that although he is
+rather froward and pert in his manners, he may yet mean well after all."
+
+"Experience should have taught me," replied Berkeley, coldly, for his
+evil genius was now thoroughly aroused, "not to place too much
+confidence in the loyalty of the people of Gloucester. If Colonel
+Temple's resolution to aid the crumbling power of the government has
+wavered at the sight of a malapert and rebellious boy, I had better
+relieve him of my presence, which must needs have become irksome to
+him."
+
+"Nay, Sir William," returned Temple, reddening at the imputation, "you
+shall not take my language thus. Let the youth speak for himself; if he
+breathes a word of treason, his blood be on his own head--my hand nor
+voice shall be raised to save him. But I am unable to construe any thing
+which he has yet said as treasonable." Then turning to Hansford, he
+added, "speak, Mr. Hansford, plainly and frankly. What was your object
+in thus coming? Were you sent by General Bacon, or did you come
+voluntarily?"
+
+"Both," replied Hansford, with a full appreciation of the old man's
+unfortunate position. "It was my proposition that some officer of the
+army should wait upon the Governor, and ascertain the truth of his
+rumoured proclamation. I volunteered to discharge the duty in person."
+
+"And in the event of your finding it to be true," said Berkeley,
+haughtily, "what course did you then intend to pursue?"
+
+This was a dangerous question; for Hansford knew that to express the
+design of the insurgents in such an event, would be little less than a
+confession of treason. But he had a bold heart, and without hesitation,
+but still maintaining his respectful manner, he replied,--
+
+"I might evade an answer to your question, by saying, that it would then
+be time enough to consider and determine our course. But I scorn to do
+so, even when my safety is endangered. I answer candidly then, that in
+such an event the worst consequences to the country and to yourself
+would ensue. It was to prevent these consequences, and as far as I could
+to intercede in restoring peace and quiet to our distracted colony, that
+I came to implore you to withdraw this proclamation. Otherwise, sir, the
+sword of the avenger is behind you, and within two days from this time
+you will be compelled once more to yield to a current that you cannot
+resist. Comply with my request, and peace and harmony will once more
+prevail; refuse, and let who will triumph, the unhappy colony will be
+involved in all the horrors of civil war."
+
+There was nothing boastful in the manner of Hansford, as he uttered
+these words. On the contrary, his whole bearing, while it showed
+inflexible determination, attested his sincerity in the wish that the
+Governor, for the good of the country, would yield to the suggestion.
+Nor did Sir William Berkeley, in spite of his indignation, fail to see
+the force and wisdom of the views presented; but he had too much pride
+to acknowledge it to an inferior.
+
+"Now, by my troth," he cried, "if this be not treason, I am at a loss to
+define the term. I should think this would satisfy even your scepticism,
+Colonel Temple; for it seems we must consult you in regard to our course
+while under your roof. You would scarcely consent, I trust, to a
+self-convicted traitor going at large."
+
+"Of course you act in the premises, according to your own judgment,"
+replied Temple, coldly, for he was justly offended at the overbearing
+manner of the incensed old Governor, "but since you have appealed to me
+for my opinion, I will e'en make bold to say, that as this young man
+came in the character of an intercessor, you might well be satisfied
+with his parole. I will myself be surety for his truth."
+
+"Parole, forsooth, and do you not think I have had enough of paroles
+from these rebel scoundrels--zounds, their faith is like an egg-shell,
+it is made to be broken."
+
+"With my sincere thanks to my noble friend," said Hansford, "for his
+obliging offer, I would not accept it if I could. Unconscious of having
+done any thing to warrant this detention, I am not willing to
+acknowledge its justice, by submitting to a qualified imprisonment."
+
+"It is well," said Berkeley, haughtily; "we will see whether your pride
+is proof against an ignominious death. Disarm him and hold him in close
+custody until my farther pleasure shall be known."
+
+As he said this, Hansford was disarmed, and led away under a strong
+guard to the apartment which Colonel Temple reluctantly designated as
+the place of his confinement.
+
+Meantime Berkenhead had remained at the gate, guarded by two of the
+soldiers of the Governor; while old Giles, with a light heart, had found
+his way back to his old stand by the kitchen door, and was detailing to
+his astonished cronies the unlucky ventures, and the providential
+deliverance, which he had experienced. But we must forbear entering into
+a detailed account of the old man's sermon, merely contenting ourselves
+with announcing, that such was the effect produced, that at the next
+baptizing day, old Elder Snivel was refreshed by a perfect pentecost of
+converts, who attributed their "new birf" to the wrestling of "brudder
+Giles."
+
+We return to Berkenhead, who, at the command of Col. Ludwell, was
+escorted, under the guard before mentioned, into the presence of Sir
+William Berkeley. The dogged and insolent demeanour of the man was even
+more displeasing to the Governor than the quiet and resolute manner of
+Hansford, and in a loud, threatening voice, he cried,
+
+"Here comes another hemp-pulling knave. 'Fore God, the colony will have
+to give up the cultivation of tobacco, and engage in raising hemp, for
+we are like to have some demand for it. Hark ye, sir knave--do you know
+the nature of the message which you have aided in bearing from the
+traitor Bacon to myself?"
+
+"Not I, your honour--no more than my carbine knows whether it is loaded
+or not. It's little the General takes an old soldier like me into his
+counsels; but I only know it is my duty to obey, if I were sent to the
+devil with a message," and the villain looked archly at the Governor.
+
+"Your language is something of the most insolent," said Sir William.
+"But tell me instantly, did you have no conversation with Major Hansford
+on your way hither, and if so, what was it?"
+
+"Little else than abuse, your honour," returned Berkenhead, "and a
+threat that I would be beat over the head if I didn't hold my tongue;
+and as I didn't care to converse at such a disadvantage, I was e'en
+content to keep my own counsel for the rest of the way."
+
+"Do you, or do you not, consider Bacon and his followers to be engaged
+in rebellion against the government?"
+
+"Rebellion, your honour!" cried the renegade. "Why, was it not your
+honour's self that sent us after these salvages? An' I thought there was
+any other design afloat, I would soon show them who was the rebel. It is
+not the first time that I have done the State some service by betraying
+treason."
+
+"Look ye," said the Governor, eyeing the fellow keenly, "if I mistake
+not, you are an old acquaintance. Is your name Berkenhead?"
+
+"The same, at your honour's service."
+
+"And didn't you betray the servile plot of 1662, and get your liberty
+and a reward for it?"
+
+"Yes, your honour, but I wouldn't have you think that it was for the
+reward I did it?"
+
+"Oh, never mind your motives. If you are Judas, you are welcome to your
+thirty pieces of silver," said the Governor, with a sneer of contempt.
+"But to make the analogy complete, you should be hanged for your
+service."
+
+"No, faith," said the shrewd villain, quickly. "Judas hanged himself,
+and it would be long ere ever I sought the apostle's elder tree.[41] And
+besides, his was the price of innocent blood, and mine was not. Look at
+my hand, your honour, and you will see what kind of blood I shed."
+
+Berkeley looked at the fellow's hand, and saw it stained with the
+crimson life-blood of the young Indian. With a thrill of horror, he
+cried, "What blood is that, you infernal villain?"
+
+"Only fresh from the veins of one of these painted red-skins," returned
+Berkenhead. "And red enough he was when I left him; but, forsooth, he
+reckons that the paint cost him full dear. He left his mark on Major
+Hansford, though, before he left."
+
+"Where did this happen?" said Berkeley, astonished.
+
+"Oh, not far from here. The red devil was a friend at the hall here,
+too, or as much so as their bloody hearts will let any of them be.
+Colonel Temple, there, knows him, and I have seen him when I lived in
+Gloucester. A fine looking fellow, too; and if his skin and his heart
+had been both white, there would have been few better and braver
+dare-devils than young Manteo."
+
+As he pronounced the name, a wild shriek rent the air, and the
+distracted Mamalis rushed into the porch. Her long hair was all
+dishevelled and flying loosely over her shoulders, her eye was that of a
+maniac in his fury, and tossing her bare arms aloft, she shrieked, in a
+wild, harsh voice,
+
+"And who are you, that dare to spill the blood of kings? Look to it that
+your own flows not less freely in your veins."
+
+Berkenhead turned pale with fright, and shrinking from the enraged girl,
+muttered, "the devil!"--while Temple, in a low voice, whispered to the
+Governor the necessary explanation, "She is his sister."
+
+"Yes, his sister!" cried the girl, wildly, for she had overheard the
+words. "His only sister!--and my blood now flows in no veins but my own.
+But the stream runs more fiercely as the channel is more narrow. Look to
+it--look to it!" And, with another wild shriek, the maddened girl rushed
+again into the house. It required all the tender care of Virginia Temple
+to pacify the poor creature. She reasoned, she prayed, she endeavoured
+to console her; but her reasons, her prayers, her sweet words of
+consolation, were all lost upon the heart of the Indian maiden, who
+nourished but one fearful, fatal idea--revenge!
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[40] This was indeed true, and renders the conduct of Berkeley entirely
+inexplicable.
+
+[41] The name given to the tree on which Judas hanged himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+    "His flight was madness."
+                      _Macbeth._
+
+
+Yes, Virginia! She who had so much reason for consolation herself,
+forgot her own sorrows for the time, in administering the oil of
+consolation to the poor, wounded, broken-hearted savage girl. She had
+been sitting at the window of the little parlour, where she could
+witness the whole scene, and hear the whole interview between the
+Governor and Hansford; and oh! how her heart had sunk within her as she
+heard the harsh sentence of the stern old knight, which condemned her
+noble, friendless lover to imprisonment, perhaps to death; and yet, a
+maiden modesty restrained her from yielding to the impulse of the
+moment, to throw herself at the feet of Berkeley, confess her love, and
+implore his pardon. Alas! ill-fated maiden, it would have been in
+vain--as she too truly, too fatally discovered afterwards.
+
+The extraordinary appearance and conduct of Mamalis broke up for the
+present any further conference with Berkenhead, who--his mendacity
+having established his innocence in the minds of the loyalists--walked
+off with a swaggering gait, rather elated than otherwise with the result
+of his interview. Alfred Bernard followed him until they turned an angle
+of the house, and stood beneath the shade of one of the broad oaks,
+which spread its protecting branches over the yard.
+
+Meantime the Governor, with such of his council as had attended him to
+Windsor Hall, retired to the study of the old Colonel, which had been
+fitted up both for the chamber of his most distinguished guest and for
+the deliberations of the council. The subject which now engaged their
+attention was one of more importance than any that had ever come before
+them since the commencement of the dissensions in Virginia. The mission
+of Hansford, while it had failed of producing the effect which he so
+ardently desired, had, notwithstanding, made a strong impression upon
+the mind of the Governor. He saw too plainly that it would be vain to
+resist the attack of Bacon, at the head of five hundred men, among whom
+were to be ranked the very chivalry of Virginia; while his own force
+consisted merely of his faithful adherents in the council, and about
+fifty mercenary troops, whose sympathies with the insurgents were
+strongly suspected.
+
+"I see," said the old man, gloomily, as he took his seat at the
+council-board, "that I must seek some other refuge. I am hunted like a
+wild beast from place to place, through a country that was once my own,
+and by those who were once the loving subjects of my king."
+
+"Remain here!" said the impulsive old Temple. "The people of Gloucester
+will yet rally around your standard, when they see open treason is
+contemplated; and should they still refuse, zounds, we may yet offer
+resistance with my servants and slaves."
+
+"My dear friend," said Berkeley, sorrowfully, "if all Virginians were
+like yourself, there would have been no rebellion--there would have been
+no difficulty in suppressing one, if attempted. But alas! the loyalty of
+the people of Gloucester has already been weighed in the balance and
+found wanting. No, I have acted hastily, foolishly, blindly. I have
+warmed this serpent into life by my forbearance and indulgence, and must
+at last be the victim of its venom and my folly. Oh! that I had refused
+the commission, which armed this traitor with legal power. I have put a
+sword into the hands of an enemy, and may be the first to fall by it."
+
+"It is useless to repine over the past," said Philip Ludwell, kindly;
+"but the power of these rebels cannot last long. The people who are
+loyal at heart will fall from their support, and military aid will be
+received from England ere long. Then the warmed reptile may be crushed."
+
+"To my mind," said Ballard, "it were better to repair the evil that has
+been done by retracing our steps, rather than to proceed further. When a
+man is over his depth, he had better return to the shore than to attempt
+to cross the unfathomable stream."
+
+"Refrain from enigmas, if you please," said Berkeley, coldly, "and tell
+me to what you refer."
+
+"Simply," replied Ballard, firmly, "that all this evil has resulted from
+your following the jesuitical counsel of a boy, rather than the prudent
+caution of your advisers. My honoured sir, forgive me if I say it is now
+your duty to acquiesce in the request of Major Hansford, and withdraw
+your proclamation."
+
+"And succumb to traitors!" cried Berkeley. "Never while God gives me
+breath to reiterate it. He who would treat with a traitor, is himself
+but little better than a traitor."
+
+The flush which mounted to the brow of Ballard attested his indignation
+at this grave charge; but before he had time to utter the retort which
+rose to his lips, Berkeley added,
+
+"Forgive me, Ballard, for my haste. But the bare idea of making terms
+with these audacious rebels roused my very blood. No, no! I can die in
+defence of my trust, but I cannot, will not yield it."
+
+"But it is not yielding," said Ballard.
+
+"Nay--no more of that," interrupted Berkeley; "let us devise some other
+means. I have it," he added, after a pause. "Accomac is still true to
+my interest, and divided from the mainland by the bay, is difficult of
+access. There will I pitch my tent, and sound my defiance--and when aid
+shall come from England, these proud and insolent traitors shall feel
+the power of my vengeance the more for this insult to my weakness."
+
+This scheme met with the approbation of all present, with the exception
+of old Ballard, who shook his head, and muttered, that he hoped it might
+all be for the best. And so it was determined that early the next
+morning the loyal refugees should embark on board a vessel then lying
+off Tindal's Point, and sail for Accomac.
+
+"And we will celebrate our departure by hanging up that young rogue,
+Hansford, in half an hour," said Berkeley.
+
+"By what law, may it please your excellency?" asked Ballard, surprised
+at this threat.
+
+"By martial law."
+
+"And for what offence?"
+
+"Why zounds, Ballard, you have turned advocate-general for all the
+rebels in the country," said Berkeley, petulantly.
+
+"No, Sir William, I am advocating the cause of justice and of my king."
+
+"Well, sir, what would you advise? To set the rogue at liberty, I
+suppose, and by our leniency to encourage treason."
+
+"By no means," said Ballard. "But either to commit him to custody until
+he may be fairly tried by a jury of his peers, or to take him with you
+to Accomac, where, by further developments of this insurrection, you may
+better judge of the nature of his offence."
+
+"And a hospitable reception would await me in Accomac, forsooth, if I
+appeared there with a prisoner of war, whom I did not have the firmness
+to punish as his crime deserves. No, by heaven! I will not be encumbered
+with prisoners. His life is forfeit to the law, and as he would prove
+an apostle of liberty, let him be a martyr to his cause."
+
+"Let me add my earnest intercession to that of Colonel Ballard," said
+Temple, "in behalf of this unhappy man. I surely have some claim upon
+your benevolence, and I ask his life as a personal boon to me."
+
+"Oh, assuredly, since you rely upon your hospitable protection to us,
+you should have your fee," said Berkeley, with a sneer. "But not in so
+precious a coin as a rebel's life. If you have suffered by the
+protection afforded to the deputy of your king, you shall not lack
+remuneration. But the coin shall be the head of Carolus II.;[42] this
+rebel's head I claim as my own."
+
+"Now, by heaven!" returned Temple, thoroughly aroused, "it requires all
+my loyalty to stomach so foul an insult. My royal master's exchequer
+could illy remunerate me for the gross language heaped upon me by his
+deputy. But let this pass. You are my guest, sir; and that I cannot
+separate the Governor from the man, I am prevented from resenting an
+insult, which else I could but little brook."
+
+"As you please, mine host," replied Berkeley. "But, in truth, I have
+wronged you, Temple. But think, my friend, of the pang the shepherd must
+feel, when he finds that he has let a wolf into his fold, which he is
+unable to resist. Oh, think of this, and bear with me!"
+
+Temple knew the old Governor too well to doubt the sincerity of this
+retraxit, and with a cordial grasp of the hand, he assured Berkeley of
+his forgiveness. "And yet," he added, warmly, "I cannot forget the cause
+I advocate, for this first rebuff. Believe me, Sir William, you will
+gain nothing, but lose much, by proceeding harshly against this unhappy
+young man. In the absence of any evidence of his guilt, you will arouse
+the indignation of the colonists to such a height, that it will be
+difficult to pacify them."
+
+"Pardon me, Sir William Berkeley," said Bernard, who had joined the
+party, "but would it not be well to examine this knave, Berkenhead,
+touching the movements and intentions of the insurgents, and
+particularly concerning any expressions which may have fallen from this
+young gentleman? If it shall appear that he is guiltless of the crime
+imputed to him, then you may safely yield to the solicitations of these
+gentlemen, and liberate him. But if it shall appear that he is guilty,
+they, in their turn, cannot object to his meeting the penalty which his
+treason richly deserves."
+
+"Now, by heaven, the young man speaks truthfully and wisely," said
+Temple, assured, by the former interview with Berkenhead, that he knew
+of nothing which could convict the prisoner. "Nor do I see, Sir William,
+what better course you can adopt than to follow his counsel."
+
+"Truly," said Berkeley, "the young man has proven himself the very Elihu
+of counsellors. 'Great men are not always wise, neither do the aged
+understand judgment. But there is a spirit in man, and the inspiration
+of the Almighty giveth them understanding.' Yet I fear, Colonel Temple,
+you will scarcely, after my impetuosity just now, deem me a Job for
+patience, though Alfred may be an Elihu for understanding. Your counsel
+is good, young man. Let the knave be brought hither to testify, and look
+ye that the prisoner be introduced to confront him. My friends, Ballard
+and Temple, are such sticklers for law, that we must not deviate from
+Magna Charta or the Petition of Right. But stay, we will postpone this
+matter till the morrow. I had almost forgotten it was the Sabbath. Loyal
+churchmen should venerate the day, even when treason is abroad in the
+land. Meantime, let the villain Berkenhead be kept in close custody,
+lest he should escape."
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[42] The coin during the reign of Charles II.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+    "I tell thee what, my friend,
+    He is a very serpent in my way."
+                            _King John._
+
+
+The reader will naturally desire to know what induced the milder counsel
+recommended by Alfred Bernard to the Governor. If we have been
+successful in impressing upon the mind of the reader a just estimate of
+the character of the young jesuit, he will readily conjecture that it
+was from no kindly feeling for his rival, and no inherent love of
+justice that he suggested such a policy; and if he be of a different
+opinion, he need only go back with us to the interview between Bernard
+and Berkenhead, to which allusion was made in the chapter immediately
+preceding the last.
+
+We have said that Alfred Bernard followed the renegade rebel until they
+stood together beneath a large oak tree which stood at the corner of the
+house. Here they stopped as if by mutual, though tacit consent, and
+Berkenhead turning sharply around upon his companion, said in an
+offended tone--"What is your further will with me sir?"
+
+"You seem not to like your comrade Major Hansford?"
+
+"Oh well enough," replied Berkenhead; "there are many better and many
+worse than him. But I don't see how the likes and the dislikes of a poor
+soldier can have any concernment with you."
+
+"I assure you," said Bernard, "it is from no impertinent curiosity, but
+a real desire to befriend you, that I ask the question. The Governor
+strongly suspects your integrity, and that you are concealing from him
+more than it suits you to divulge. Now, I would do you a service and
+advise you how you may reinstate yourself in his favour."
+
+"Well, that seems kind on the outside," said the soldier, "seeing as you
+seems to be one of the blooded gentry, and I am nothing but a plain
+Dunstable.[43] But rough iron is as soft as polished steel."
+
+"I believe you," said Bernard. "Now you have not much reason to waste
+your love on this Major Hansford. He threatened to beat you, as you say,
+and a freeborn Englishman does not bear an insult like that with
+impunity."
+
+
+"No, your honour," replied the man, "and I've known the day when a
+Plymouth cloak[44] would protect me from insult as well as a frieze coat
+from cold. But I am too old for that now, and so I had better swallow an
+insult dry, than butter it with my own marrow."
+
+"And are there not other modes of revenge than by a blow? Where are your
+wits, man? What makes the man stronger than the horse that carries him?
+I tell you, a keen wit is to physical force what your carbine is to the
+tomahawk of these red-skins. It fires at a distance."
+
+The old soldier looked up with a gleam of intelligence, and Bernard
+continued--
+
+"Bethink you, did you hear nothing from Hansford by which you might
+infer that his ultimate design was to overturn the government?"
+
+"Why I can't exactly say that I did," returned the fellow. "To be sure
+they all prate about liberty and the like, but I reckon that is an
+Englishman's privilege, providing he takes it out in talking. But there
+may be fire in the bed-straw for all my ignorance."[45]
+
+"Well, I am sorry for you," said Bernard, "for if you could only
+remember any thing to convict this young rebel, I would warrant you a
+free pardon and a sound neck."
+
+"Well, now, as I come to think of it," said the unscrupulous renegade,
+"there might be some few things he let drop, not much in themselves, but
+taken together, as might weave a right strong tow; and zounds, I don't
+think a man can be far wrong to untwist the rope about his own neck by
+tying it to another. For concerning of life, your honour, while I have
+no great care to risk it in battle, I don't crave to choke it out with
+one of these hemp cravats. And so being as I have already done the state
+some service, I feel it my duty to save her if I can."
+
+"Now, thanks to that catch-word of the rogue," muttered Bernard, "I am
+like to have easy work to-night. Hark ye, Mr. Berkenhead," he added,
+aloud, "I think it is likely that the Governor may wish to ask you a
+question or two touching this matter of which we have been speaking. In
+the meantime here is something which may help you to get along with
+these soldiers," and he placed a sovereign in the fellow's hand.
+
+"Thank your honour," said Berkenhead, humbly, "and seeing its not in the
+way of bribe, I suppose I may take it."
+
+"Oh, no bribe," replied Bernard, smiling, "but mark me, tell a good
+story. The stronger your evidence the safer is your head."
+
+Bernard returned, as we have seen, to the Governor, for the further
+development of his diabolical designs, and in a short time Berkenhead,
+under a guard of soldiers, was conducted to his quarters for the night,
+in a store-house which stood in the yard some distance from the house.
+
+As the house to which the renegade insurgent was consigned was deemed
+sufficiently secure, and the soldiers wearied with a long march, were
+again to proceed on their journey on the morrow, it was not considered
+necessary to place a guard before the door of this temporary cell--the
+precaution, however, being taken to appoint a sentry at each side of the
+mansion-house, and at the door of the apartment in which the unhappy
+Hansford was confined.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[43] An old English expression for a rough, honest fellow.
+
+[44] A bludgeon.
+
+[45] There may be danger in the design.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+    "Ha! sure he sleeps--all's dark within save what
+    A lamp, that feebly lifts a sickly flame,
+    By fits reveals. His face seems turned to favour
+    The attempt. I'll steal and do it unperceived."
+                                        _Mourning Bride._
+
+
+All were wrapt in silence and in slumber, save the weary sentinels, who
+paced drowsily up and down before the door of the house, humming in a
+low tone the popular Lillibullero, or silently communing with their
+brother sentry in the sky. The family, providing for the fatigues of the
+following day, had early retired to rest, and even Virginia, worn down
+by excitement and agitation, having been assured by her father of the
+certain safety of Hansford, had yielded to the restoring influences of
+sleep. How little did the artless girl, or her unsuspicious father,
+suppose that beneath their roof they had been cherishing a demon, who,
+by his wily machinations, was weaving a web around his innocent victim,
+cruel and inextricable.
+
+We have said that all save the watchful sentinels were sleeping; but one
+there was from whose eyes and from whose heart revenge had driven sleep.
+Mamalis--the poor, hapless Mamalis--whose sorrows had been forgotten in
+the general excitement which had prevailed--Mamalis knew but one
+thought, and that was no dream. Her brother, the pride and refuge of
+her maiden heart, lay stiff and murdered by the way-side--his death
+unwept, his dirge unsung, his brilliant hopes of fame cut off ere they
+had fully budded. And his murderer was near her! Could she hesitate? Had
+she not been taught, in her simple faith, that the blood of the victim
+requires the blood of his destroyer? The voice of her brother's blood
+called to her from the ground. Nor did it call in vain. It is true, he
+had been harsh, nay sometimes even cruel to her, but when was woman's
+heart, when moved to softness, ever mindful of the wrongs she had
+endured? Ask yourself, when standing by the lifeless corse of one whom
+you have dearly loved, if then you can remember aught but kindness, and
+love, and happiness, in your association with the loved one. One gentle
+word, one sweet smile, one generous action, though almost faded from the
+memory before, obscures forever all the recollection of wrongs inflicted
+and injuries endured.
+
+She was in the room occupied by Virginia Temple. Oh, what a contrast
+between the two! Yes, there they were--Revenge and Innocence! The one
+lay pure and beautiful in sleep; her round, white arm thrown back upon
+the pillow, to form a more snowy resting place for her lovely cheek.
+From beneath her cap some tresses had escaped, which, happy in release,
+were sporting in the soft air that wooed them through the open window.
+Her face, at other times too spiritually pale, was now slightly flushed
+by the sultry warmth of the night. A smile of peaceful happiness played
+around her lips, as she dreamed, perhaps, of some wild flower ramble
+which in happier days she had had with Hansford. Her snowy bosom, which
+in her restlessness she had nearly bared, was white and swelling as a
+wave which plays in the calm moonlight. Such was the beautiful being who
+lay sleeping calmly in the arms of Innocence, while the dark, but not
+less striking, form of the Indian girl bent over, to discover if she
+slept. She was dressed as we have before described, with the short
+deer-skin smock, extending to her knees, and fitted closely round the
+waist with a belt of wampum. Her long black hair was bound by a simple
+riband, and fell thickly over her shoulders in dark profusion. In her
+left hand she held a lamp, and it was fearful to mark, by its faint,
+glimmering light, the intense earnestness of her countenance. There were
+some traces of tears upon her cheek, but these were nearly dried. Her
+bright black eyes were lighted by a strange, unnatural fire, which they
+never knew before. It seemed as though you might see them in the dark.
+In her right hand she held a small dagger, which _he_ had given her as a
+pledge of a brother's love. Fit instrument to avenge a brother's death!
+
+She seemed to be listening and watching to hear or see the slightest
+movement from the slumbering maiden. But all was still!
+
+"I slept not thus," she murmured, "the night I heard him vow his
+vengeance against your father. Before the birds had sung their morning
+song I came to warn you. Now all I loved, my country, my friends, my
+brother, have gone forever, and none shares the tears of the Indian
+maiden."
+
+She turned away with a sigh from the bedside of Virginia, and carefully
+replaced the dagger in her belt. She then took a key which was lying on
+the table and clutched it with an air of triumph. That key she had
+stolen from the pocket of Alfred Bernard while he slept--for what will
+not revenge, and woman's revenge, dare to do. Then taking up a water
+pitcher, and extinguishing the light, she softly left the room.
+
+As she endeavoured to pass the outer door she was accosted by the hoarse
+voice of the sentinel--"Who comes there?" he cried.
+
+"A friend," she answered, timidly.
+
+"You cannot pass, friend, without a permit from the Governor. Them's his
+orders."
+
+"I go to bring some water for the sick maiden," she said earnestly,
+showing him the pitcher. "She is far from well. Let her not suffer for a
+draught of water."
+
+"Well," said the pliant soldier, yielding; "you are a good pleader,
+pretty one. That dark face of yours looks devilish well by moonlight.
+What say you; if I let you pass, will you come and sit with me when you
+get back? It's damned lonesome out here by myself."
+
+"I will do any thing you wish when I return," said the girl.
+
+"Easily won, by Wenus," said the gallant soldier, as he permitted
+Mamalis to pass on her supposed errand.
+
+Freed from this obstruction, she glided rapidly through the yard, and
+soon stood before the door of the small house which she had learned was
+appropriated as the prison of Berkenhead. Turning the key softly in the
+lock, she pulled the latch-string and gently opened the door. A flood of
+moonlight streamed upon the floor, encumbered with a variety of
+plantation utensils. By the aid of this light Mamalis soon recognized
+the form and features of the fated Berkenhead, who was sleeping in one
+corner of the room. She knelt over him and feasted her eyes with the
+anticipation of her deep revenge. Fearing to be defeated in her design,
+for with her it was the foiled attempt and "not the act which might
+confound," she bared his bosom and sought his heart. The motion startled
+the sleeping soldier. "The devil," he said, half opening his eyes; "its
+damned light." Just as he pronounced the last word the fatal dagger of
+Mamalis found its way into his heart. "It is all dark now," she said,
+bitterly, and rising from her victim, she glided through the door and
+left him with his God.
+
+With the native shrewdness of her race, Mamalis did not forget that she
+had still to play a part, and so without returning directly to the
+house, she repaired to the well and filled her pitcher. She even offered
+the sentinel a drink as she repassed him on her return, and promising
+once more to come back, when she had carried the water to the "sick
+maiden," she stole quietly into the room occupied by Bernard, replaced
+the key in his pocket as before, and hastened up stairs again.
+
+And there seated once more by the bedside of the sleeping Virginia, the
+young Indian girl sang, in a low voice, at once her song of triumph and
+her brother's dirge, in that rich oriental improvisation for which the
+Indians were so remarkable. We will not pretend to give in the original
+words of this beautiful requiem, but furnish the reader, in default of a
+better, with the following free translation, which may give some faint
+idea of its beauty:--
+
+"They have plucked the flower from the garden of my heart, and have torn
+the soil where it tenderly grew. He was bright and beautiful as the
+bounding deer, and the shaft from his bow was as true as his unchanging
+soul! Rest with the Great Spirit, soul of my brother!
+
+"The Great Spirit looked down in pity on my brother; Manitou has
+snatched him from the hands of the dreadful Okee. On the shores of the
+spirit-land, with the warriors of his tribe he sings the song of his
+glory, and chases the spirit deer over the immaterial plains! Rest with
+the Great Spirit, soul of my brother!
+
+"But I, his sister, am left lonely and desolate; the hearth-stone of
+Mamalis is deserted. Yet has my hand sought revenge for his murder, and
+my bosom exults over the destruction of his destroyer! Rest with the
+Great Spirit, soul of my brother!
+
+"Rest with the Great Spirit, soul of Manteo, till Mamalis shall come to
+enjoy thy embraces. Then welcome to thy spirit home the sister of thy
+youth, and reward with thy love the avenger of thy death! Rest with the
+Great Spirit, soul of my brother!"
+
+As her melancholy requiem died away, Mamalis rose silently from the
+seat, and bent once more over the form of the sleeping Virginia. As she
+felt the warm breath of the pure young girl upon her cheek, and watched
+the regular beating of her heart, and then contrasted the purity of the
+sleeping maiden with her own wild, guilty nature, she started back in
+horror. For the first time she felt remorse at the commission of her
+crime, and with a heavy sigh she hurriedly left the room, as though it
+were corrupted by her presence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+    "And smile, and smile, and smile, and be a villain."
+                                              _King John._
+
+
+Great was the horror of the loyalists, on the following morning, at the
+discovery of the horrible crime which had been perpetrated; but still
+greater was the mystery as to who was the guilty party. There was no
+mode of getting admittance to the house in which Berkenhead was
+confined, except through the door, the key of which was in the
+possession of Alfred Bernard. Even if the position and standing of this
+young man had not repelled the idea that he was cognizant of the crime,
+his own unfeigned surprise at the discovery, and the absence of any
+motive for its commission, acquitted him in the minds of all. And yet,
+if this hypothesis was avoided, it was impossible to form any rational
+theory on the subject. There were but two persons connected with the
+establishment who could be presumed to have any plausible motive for
+murdering Berkenhead. Hansford might indeed be suspected of a desire to
+suppress evidence which would be dangerous to his own safety, but then
+Hansford was himself in close confinement. Mamalis, too, had manifested
+a spirit, the evening before, towards the unhappy man, which might very
+naturally subject her to suspicion; but, besides that, she played her
+part of surprise to perfection--it could not be conceived how she had
+gotten possession of the key of the room. The sentinel might indeed have
+thrown much light upon the subject, but he kept his own counsel for fear
+of the consequences of disobedience to orders; and he boldly asserted
+that no one had left the house during the night. This evidence, taken in
+connection with the fact that the young girl was found sleeping, as
+usual, in the little room adjoining Virginia's chamber, entirely
+exculpated her from any participation in the crime. Nothing then was
+left for it, but to suppose that the unhappy man, in a fit of
+desperation, had himself put a period to his existence. A little
+investigation might have easily satisfied them that such an hypothesis
+was as groundless as the rest; for it was afterwards ascertained by
+Colonel Temple, after a strict search, that no weapon was found on or
+near the body, nor in the apartment where it lay. But Sir William
+Berkeley, anxious to proceed upon his way to Accomac, and caring but
+little, perhaps, for the fate of a rebel, whose life was probably
+shortened but a few hours, gave the affair a very hurried and summary
+examination. Bernard, with his quick sagacity, discovered, or at least
+shrewdly suspected, the truth, and Mamalis felt, as he fixed his dark
+eyes upon her, that he had read the mystery of her heart. But, for his
+own reasons, the villain for the present maintained the strictest
+silence on the subject.
+
+But this catastrophe, so fatal to Berkenhead, was fortunate for young
+Hansford. The Governor, more true to his word to loyalists than he had
+hitherto been to the insurgents, released our hero from imprisonment, in
+the absence of any testimony against him. And, to the infinite chagrin
+of Alfred Bernard, his rival, once more at liberty, was again, in the
+language of the treacherous Plantagenet, "a very serpent in his way." He
+had too surely discovered, that so long as Hansford lived, the heart of
+Virginia Temple, or what he valued far more, her hand, could never be
+given to another; and yet he felt, that if he were out of the way, and
+that heart, though widowed, free to choose again, the emotions of
+mistaken gratitude would prompt her to listen with favour to his suit.
+With all his faults, too, and with his mercenary motives, Bernard was
+not without a feeling, resembling love, for Virginia. We are told that
+there are fruits and flowers which, though poisonous in their native
+soil, when transplanted and cherished under more genial circumstances,
+become at once fair to the eye and wholesome to the taste. It is thus
+with love. In the wild, sterile heart of Alfred Bernard it had taken
+root, and poisoned all his nature; but yet it was the same emotion which
+shed a genial influence over the manly heart of Hansford. If it had been
+otherwise, there were some as fair, and many far more wealthy, in his
+adopted colony, than Virginia Temple. But she was at once adapted to his
+interests, his passions, and his intellect. She could aid his vaulting
+ambition by sharing with him her wealth; she could control, by the
+strength of her character, and the sweetness of her disposition, his own
+wild nature; and she could be the instructive and congenial companion of
+his intellect. And all this rich treasure might be his but for the
+existence, the rivalry of the hated Hansford. Still his ardent nature
+led him to hope. With all his heart he would engage in quelling the
+rebellion, which he foresaw was about to burst upon the colony; and
+then revenge, the sweetest morsel to the jealous mind, was his.
+Meantime, he must look the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it;
+and curbing his own feelings, must, under pretence of friendship and
+interest for a rival, continue to plot his ruin. Alfred Bernard was
+equal to the task.
+
+It was with these feelings that he sought Virginia Temple on the eve of
+his departure from Windsor Hall. The young girl was seated, with her
+lover, on a rude, rustic bench, beneath the large oak where Bernard had,
+the evening before, had an interview with the unfortunate Berkenhead. As
+he approached, she rose, and with her usual winning frankness of manner,
+she extended her hand.
+
+"Come, Mr. Bernard," she said, "I have determined that you and Major
+Hansford shall be friends."
+
+"Most willingly, on my part," said the smooth-tongued Bernard. "And I
+think I have given the best evidence of my disposition to be so, by
+aiding feebly in restoring to Miss Temple an old friend, when she must
+now so soon part with her more recent acquaintance."
+
+"I am happy to think," said Hansford, whose candour prevented him from
+suppressing entirely the coldness of his manner, "that I am indebted to
+Mr. Bernard for any interest he may have taken in my behalf. I hope,
+sir, you will now add to the obligation under which I at present rest to
+you, by apprising me in what manner you have so greatly obliged me."
+
+"Why, you must be aware," replied Bernard, "that your present freedom
+from restraint is due to my interposition with Sir William Berkeley."
+
+"Oh yes, indeed," interposed Virginia, "for I heard my father say that
+it was Mr. Bernard's wise suggestion, adopted by the Governor, which
+secured your release."
+
+"Hardly so," returned Hansford, "even if such were his disposition. But,
+if I am rightly informed, your assistance only extended to a very
+natural request, that I should not be judged guilty so long as there was
+no evidence to convict me. If I am indebted to Mr. Bernard for
+impressing upon the mind of the Governor a principle of law as old, I
+believe, as Magna Charta, I must e'en render him the thanks which are
+justly his due, and which he seems so anxious to demand."
+
+"Mr. Hansford," said Virginia, "why will you persist in being so
+obstinate? Is it such a hard thing, after all, for one brave man to owe
+his life to another, or for an innocent man to receive justice at the
+hands of a generous one? And at least, I should think, she added, with
+the least possible pout, "that, when I ask as a favour that you should
+be friends, you should not refuse me."
+
+"Indeed, Miss Virginia," said Alfred Bernard, without evincing the
+slightest mark of displeasure; "you urge this reconciliation too far. If
+Major Hansford have some secret cause of enmity or distrust towards me,
+of which I am ignorant, I beg that you will not force him to express a
+sentiment which his heart does not entertain. And as for his gratitude,
+which he seems to think that I demand, I assure you, that for any
+service which I may have done him, I am sufficiently compensated by my
+own consciousness of rectitude of purpose, and nobly rewarded by
+securing your approving smile."
+
+"Nobly, generously said, Mr. Bernard," replied Virginia, "and now I have
+indeed mistaken Mr. Hansford's character if he fail to make atonement
+for his backwardness, by a full, free, and cordial reconciliation."
+
+"I must needs give you my left hand, then," said Hansford, extending his
+hand with as much cordiality as he could assume; "my right arm is
+disabled as you perceive, by a wound inflicted by one of the enemies of
+my country, against whom it would seem it is treason to battle."
+
+"Nay, if you go into that hateful subject again," said Virginia, "I
+fear there is not much cordiality in your heart yet."
+
+"Oh! you are mistaken, Miss Temple," said Bernard, gaily; "you must
+remember the old adage, that the left is nearest to the heart. Believe
+me, Major Hansford and myself will be good friends yet, and when we
+hereafter shall speak of our former estrangement, it will only be to
+remember by whose gentle influence we were reconciled. But permit me to
+hope, Major, that your wound is not serious."
+
+"A mere trifle, I believe, sir," returned Hansford, "but I am afraid I
+will suffer some inconvenience from it for some time, as it is the sword
+arm; and in these troublous times it may fail me, when it should be
+prepared to defend."
+
+"An that were the only use to which you would apply it," said Virginia,
+half laughing, and half in earnest, "I would sincerely hope that it
+might never heal."
+
+"Oh fear not but that it will soon heal," said Bernard. "The most
+dangerous wounds are inflicted here," laying his hand upon his heart; "a
+wound dealt not by a savage, but by an angel; not from the arrow of the
+ambushed Indian, but from the quiver of the mischievous little blind
+boy--and the more fatal, because we insanely delight to inflame the
+wound instead of seeking to cure it."
+
+"Well really, Mr. Bernard," said Virginia, rallying the gay young
+euphuist, "the flowers of gallantry which you have brought from Windsor
+Court, thanks to your fostering care, flourish quite as sweetly in this
+wilderness of Windsor Hall. Take pity on an illiterate colonial girl,
+and tell me whether this is the language of Waller, Cowley or Dryden?"
+
+"It is the language of the heart, Miss Temple, on the present occasion
+at least," said Bernard, gravely; "for I am admonished that it is time I
+should say farewell. Without flowers or poetry, Miss Virginia, I bid you
+adieu. May you be happy, and derive from your association with others
+that high enjoyment which you are so capable of bestowing. Farewell,
+Major Hansford, we may meet again, I trust, when it will not be
+necessary to invoke the interposition of a fair mediator to effect a
+reconciliation."
+
+Hansford well understood the innuendo contained in the last words of
+Bernard, but taking the well-timed hint, refrained from expressing it
+more clearly, and gave his hand to his rival with every appearance of
+cordiality. And Virginia, misconstruing the words of the young jesuit,
+frankly extended her own hand, which he pressed respectfully to his
+lips, and then turned silently away.
+
+"Well, I am delighted," said Virginia to her lover, when they were thus
+left alone, "that you are at last friends with Bernard. You see now that
+I was right and you were wrong in our estimates of his character."
+
+"Indeed I do not, my dear Virginia; on the contrary, this brief
+interview has but confirmed my previously formed opinion."
+
+"Oh! that is impossible, Hansford; you are too suspicious, indeed you
+are. I never saw more refinement and delicacy blended with more real
+candour. Indeed, Hansford, he is a noble fellow."
+
+"I am sorry to differ with you, dearest; but to my mind his refinement
+is naught but Jesuitical craft; his delicacy the result of an
+educational schooling of the lip, to conceal the real feelings of his
+heart; and his candour but the gilt washing which appears like gold, but
+after all, only hides the baser metal beneath it."
+
+"Well, in my life I never heard such perversion! Really, Hansford, you
+will make me think you are jealous."
+
+"Jealous, Virginia, jealous!" said Hansford, in a sorrowful tone. "Alas!
+if I were even capable of such a feeling, what right have I to entertain
+it? Your heart is free, and torn from the soil which once cherished it,
+may be transplanted elsewhere, while the poor earth where once it grew
+can only hope now and then to feel the fragrance which it sheds on all
+around. No, not jealous, Virginia, whatever else I may be!"
+
+"You speak too bitterly, Hansford; have I not assured you that though a
+harsh fate may sever us; though parental authority may deny you my hand,
+yet my heart is unalterably yours. But tell me, why it is that you can
+see nothing good in this young man, and persist in perverting every
+sentiment, every look, every expression to his injury?"
+
+Before Hansford could reply, the shrill voice of Mrs. Temple was heard,
+crying out; "Virginia Temple, Virginia Temple, why where can the child
+have got to!"--and at the same moment the old lady came bustling round
+the house, and discovered the unlawful interview of the lovers.
+
+Rising hastily from her seat, Virginia advanced to her mother, who,
+without giving her time to speak, even had she been so inclined, sang
+out at the top of her voice--"Come along, my daughter. Here are the
+guests in your father's house kept waiting in the porch to tell you
+good-bye, and you, forsooth, must be talking, the Lord knows what, to
+that young scape-gallows yonder, who hasn't modesty enough to know when
+and where he's wanted."
+
+"Dear mother, don't speak so loud," whispered the poor girl.
+
+"Don't talk so loud, forsooth--and why? They that put themselves where
+they are not wanted and not asked, must expect to hear ill of
+themselves."
+
+"There comes my pretty Jeanie," said her old father, as he saw her
+approach. "And so you found her at last, mother. Come here, dearest, we
+have been waiting for you."
+
+The sweet tones of that gentle voice, which however harsh at times to
+others, were ever modulated to the sweetest music when he spoke to her,
+fell upon the ears of the poor confused and mortified girl, in such
+comforting accents, that the full heart could no longer restrain its
+gushing feelings, and she burst into tears. With swollen eyes and with a
+heavy heart she bade adieu to the several guests, and as Sir William
+Berkeley, in the mistaken kindness of his heart, kissed her cheek, and
+whispered that Bernard would soon return and all would be happy again,
+she sobbed as if her gentle heart would break.
+
+"I always tell the Colonel that he ruins the child," said Mrs. Temple to
+the Governor, with one of her blandest smiles, on seeing this renewed
+exhibition of sensibility. "It was not so in our day, Lady Frances; we
+had other things to think about than crying and weeping. Tears were not
+so shallow then."
+
+Lady Frances Berkeley nodded a stately acquiescence to this tribute to
+the stoicism of the past, and made some sage, original and relevant
+reflection, that shallow streams ever were the most noisy--and then
+kissing the weeping girl, repeated the grateful assurance that Bernard
+would not be long absent, and that she herself would be present at the
+happy bridal, to taste the bride's cake and quaff the knitting cup,[46]
+with other like consolations well calculated to restore tranquillity and
+happiness to the bosom of the disconsolate Virginia.
+
+And so the unfortunate Berkeley commenced that fatal flight, which
+contributed so largely to divert the arms of the insurgents from the
+Indians to the government, and to change what else might have been a
+mere unauthorized attack upon the common enemies of the country into a
+protracted and bloody civil war.
+
+Hansford did not long remain at Windsor Hall, after the departure of the
+loyalists. He would indeed have been wanting in astuteness if he had not
+inferred from the direct language of Mrs. Temple that he was an
+unwelcome visitant at the mansion. But more important, if not more
+cogent reasons urged his immediate departure. He saw at a glance the
+fatal error committed by Berkeley in his flight to Accomac, and the
+immense advantage it would be to the insurgents. He wished, therefore,
+without loss of time to communicate the welcome intelligence to Bacon
+and his followers, who, he knew, were anxiously awaiting the result of
+his mission.
+
+Ordering his horse, he bade a cordial adieu to the good old colonel,
+who, as he shook his hand, said, with a tear in his eye, "Oh, my boy, my
+boy! if your head were as near right as I believe your heart is, how I
+would love to welcome you to my bosom as my son."
+
+"I hope, my kind, my noble friend," said Hansford, "that the day may yet
+come when you will see that I am not wholly wrong. God knows I would
+almost rather err with you than to be right with any other man." Then
+bidding a kind farewell to Mrs. Temple and Virginia, to which the old
+lady responded with due civility, but without cordiality, he vaulted
+into the saddle and rode off--and as long as the house was still in
+view, he could see the white 'kerchief of Virginia from the open window,
+waving a last fond adieu to her unhappy lover.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[46] A cup drunk at the marriage ceremony in honour of the bride.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+    "The abstract and brief chronicle of the time."
+                                                    _Hamlet._
+
+
+It is not our purpose to trouble the reader with a detailed account of
+all the proceedings of the famous Rebellion, which forms the basis of
+our story. We, therefore, pass rapidly over the stirring incidents which
+immediately succeeded the flight of Sir William Berkeley. Interesting as
+these incidents may be to the antiquary or historian, they have but
+little to do with the dramatis person� of this faithful narrative, in
+whose fate we trust our readers are somewhat interested. Accomac is
+divided from the mainland of Virginia by the broad Chesapeake Bay.
+Although contained in the same grant which prescribed the limits to the
+colony, and although now considered a part of this ancient commonwealth,
+there is good reason to believe that formerly it was considered in a
+different light. In one of the earliest colonial state papers which has
+been preserved, the petition of Morryson, Ludwell & Smith, for a
+reformed charter for the colony, the petitioners are styled the "agents
+for the governor, council and burgesses of the country of Virginia _and
+territory of Accomac_;" and although this form of phraseology appears in
+but few of the records, yet it would appear that the omission was the
+result of mere convenience in style, just as Victoria is more frequently
+styled the Queen of England, than called by her more formal title of
+Queen of the United Kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland, by the Grace
+of God, Defender of the Faith. It was, therefore, not without reason,
+that Nathaniel Bacon, glad at least of a pretext for advancing his
+designs, should have considered the flight of Sir William Berkeley to
+Accomac as a virtual abdication of his authority, more especially as it
+had been ordained but two years before by the council at Whitehall, that
+the governor should be actually a resident of Virginia, unless when
+summoned by the King to England or elsewhere. At least it was a
+sufficient pretext for the young insurgent, who, in the furtherance of
+his designs did not seem to be over-scrupulous in regard to the powers
+with which he was clothed. But twelve years afterwards a similar pretext
+afforded by the abdication of James the Second, relieved the British
+government of one of the most serious difficulties which has arisen in
+her constitutional history.
+
+Without proceeding on his expedition against the Indians, Bacon had no
+sooner heard of the abdication of the governor than he retired to the
+Middle Plantation, the site of the present venerable city of
+Williamsburg. Here, summoning a convention of the most prominent
+citizens from all parts of the colony, he declared the government
+vacated by the voluntary abdication of Berkeley, and in his own name,
+and the name of four members of the council, proceeded to issue writs
+for a meeting of the Assembly. It is but just to the memory of this
+great man to say, that this Assembly, convened by his will, and acting,
+as may well be conceived, almost exclusively under his dictation, has
+left upon our statute books laws "the most wholesome and good," for the
+benefit of the colony, and the most conducive to the advancement of
+rational liberty. The rights of property remained inviolate--the reforms
+were moderate and judicious, and the government of the colony proceeded
+as quietly and calmly after the accomplishment of the revolution, as
+though Sir William Berkeley were still seated in his palace as the
+executive magistrate of Virginia. A useful lesson did this young
+colonial rebel teach to modern reformers who would defame his name--the
+lesson that reform does not necessarily imply total change, and that
+there is nothing with which it is more dangerous to tamper than long
+established usage. The worst of all quacks are those who would
+administer their sovereign nostrums to the constitution of their
+country.
+
+The reader of history need not be reminded that the expedition of Bland
+and Carver, designed to surprise Sir William Berkeley in his new
+retreat, was completely frustrated by the treachery of Larimore, and its
+unfortunate projectors met, at the hands of the stern old Governor, a
+traitor's doom. Thus the drooping hopes of the loyalists were again
+revived, and taking advantage of this happy change in the condition of
+affairs, Berkeley with his little band of faithful adherents returned by
+sea to Jamestown, and fortified the place to the best of their ability
+against the attacks of the rebels.
+
+Nor were the insurgents unwilling to furnish them an opportunity for a
+contest. The battle of Bloody Run is memorable in the annals of the
+colony as having forever annihilated the Indian power in Eastern
+Virginia. Like the characters in Bunyan's sublime vision, this unhappy
+race, so long a thorn in the side of the colonists, had passed away, and
+"they saw their faces no more." But his very triumph over the savage
+enemies of his country, well nigh proved the ruin of the young
+insurgent. Many of his followers, who had joined him with a bona fide
+design of extirpating the Indian power, now laid down their arms, and
+retired quietly to their several homes. Bacon was thus left with only
+about two hundred adherents, to prosecute the civil war which the harsh
+and dissembling policy of Berkeley had invoked; while the Governor was
+surrounded by more than three times that number, with the entire navy of
+Virginia at his command, and, moreover, secure behind the fortifications
+of Jamestown. Yet did not the brave young hero shrink from the contest.
+Though reduced in numbers, those that remained were in themselves a
+host. They were all men of more expanded views, and more exalted
+conceptions of liberty, than many of the medley crew who had before
+attended him. They fought in a holier cause than when arrayed against
+the despised force of their savage foes, and, moreover, they fought in
+self-defence. For, too proud and generous to desert their leader in his
+hour of peril, each of his adherents lay under the proscriptive ban of
+the revengeful Governor, as a rebel and a traitor. No sooner, therefore,
+did Bacon hear of the return of Berkeley to Jamestown, than, with hasty
+marches, he proceeded to invest the place. It is here, then, that we
+resume the thread of our broken narrative.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+                    "When Liberty rallies
+    Once more in thy regions, remember me then."
+                                              _Byron._
+
+
+It was on a calm, clear morning in the latter part of the month of
+September, that the little army of Nathaniel Bacon, wearied and worn
+with protracted marches, and with hard fought battles, might be seen
+winding through the woodland district to the north of Jamestown. The two
+cavaliers, who led the way a little distance ahead of the main body of
+the insurgents, were Bacon and his favourite comrade, Hansford--engaged,
+as before, in an animated, but now a more earnest conversation. The brow
+of the young hero was more overcast with care and reflection than when
+we last saw him. The game, which he had fondly hoped was over, had yet
+to be played, and the stake that remained was far more serious than any
+which had yet been risked. During the brief interval that his undisputed
+power existed, the colony had flourished and improved, and the bright
+dream which he had of her approaching delivery from bondage, seemed
+about to be realized. And now it was sad and disheartening to think that
+the battle must again be fought, and with such odds against him, that
+the chances of success were far more remote than ever. But Bacon was not
+the man to reveal his feelings, and he imparted to others the
+cheerfulness which he failed to feel himself. From time to time he would
+ride along the broken ranks, revive their drooping spirits, inspire them
+with new courage, and impart fresh ardor into their breasts for the
+glorious cause in which they were engaged. Then rejoining Hansford, he
+would express to him the fears and apprehensions which he had so
+studiously concealed from the rest.
+
+It was on one of these occasions, after deploring the infatuated
+devotion of so many of the colonists to the cause of blind loyalty, and
+the desertion of so many on whom he had relied to co-operate in his
+enterprize, that he said, bitterly:
+
+"I fear sometimes, my friend, that we have been too premature in our
+struggle for liberty. Virginia is not yet ready to be free. Her people
+still hug the chains which enslave them."
+
+"Alas!" said Hansford, "it is too true that we cannot endue the infant
+in swaddling bands with the pride and strength of a giant. The child who
+learns to walk must meet with many a fall, and the nation that aspires
+to freedom will often be checked by disaster and threatened with ruin."
+
+"And this it is," said Bacon, sorrowfully, "that makes me sick at heart.
+Each struggle to be free sinks the chain of the captive deeper into his
+flesh. And should we fail now, my friend, we but tighten the fetters
+that bind us."
+
+"Think not thus gloomily on the subject," replied Hansford. "Believe me,
+that you have already done much to develope the germ of freedom in
+Virginia. It may be that it may not expand and grow in our brief lives;
+and even though our memory may pass away, and the nation we have served
+may fail to call us blessed, yet they will rejoice in the fruition of
+that freedom for which we may perish. Should the soldier repine because
+he is allotted to lead a forlorn hope? No! there is a pride and a glory
+to know, that his death is the bridge over which others will pass to
+victory."
+
+"God bless your noble soul, Hansford," said Bacon, with the intensest
+admiration. "It is men like you and not like me who are worthy to live
+in future generations. Men who, regardless of the risk or sacrifice of
+self, press onward in the discharge of duty. Love of glory may elevate
+the soul in the hour of triumph, but love of duty, and firmness
+resolutely to discharge it, can alone sustain us in the hour of peril
+and trial."
+
+This was at last the difference between the two men. Intense desire for
+personal fame, united with a subordinate love of country impelled Bacon
+in his course. Inflexible resolution to discharge a sacred duty, an
+entire abnegation of self in its performance, and the strongest
+convictions of right constituted the incentives to Hansford. It was this
+that in the hour of their need sustained the heart of Hansford, while
+the more selfish but noble heart of his leader almost sank within him;
+and yet the effects upon the actions of the two were much the same. The
+former, unswayed by circumstances however adverse, pressed steadily and
+firmly on; while the latter, with the calmness of desperation, knowing
+that safety, and (what was dearer) glory, lay in the path of success,
+braced himself for the struggle with more than his usual resolution.
+
+"But, alas!" continued Bacon, in the same melancholy tone, "if we should
+fail, how hard to be forgotten. Your name and memory to perish among men
+forever--your very grave to be neglected and uncared for; and this
+living, breathing frame, instinct with life, and love, and glory, to
+pass away and mingle with the dust of the veriest worm which crawls upon
+the earth. Oh, God! to be forgotten, to leave no impress on the world
+but what the next flowing tide may efface forever. Think of it, realize
+it, Hansford--to be forgotten!"
+
+"It would, indeed, be a melancholy thought," said Hansford, with a deep
+sympathy for his friend--"if this were all. But when we remember that we
+stand but on the threshold of existence, and have a higher, a holier
+destiny to attain beyond, we need care but little for what is passing
+here. I have sometimes thought, my friend, that as in manhood we
+sometimes smile at the absurd frivolities which caught our childish
+fancy, so when elevated to a higher sphere we would sit and wonder at
+the interest which we took in the trifling pleasures, the empty honours,
+and the glittering toys of this present life."
+
+"And do you mean to say that honour and glory are nothing here?"
+
+"Only so far as they reflect the honour and glory which are beyond."
+
+"Pshaw, man!" cried Bacon, "you do not, you cannot think so. You ask me
+the reason of this desire for fame and remembrance when we are dust. I
+tell you it is an instinct implanted in us by the Almighty to impel us
+to glorious deeds."
+
+"Aye," said Hansford, quietly, "and when that desire, by our own
+indulgence, becomes excessive, just as the baser appetites of the
+glutton or the debauchee, it becomes corrupt and tends to our
+destruction."
+
+"You are a curious fellow, Hansford," said Bacon, laughing, "and should
+have been one of old Noll's generals--for I believe you can preach as
+well as you can fight, and believe me that is no slight commendation.
+But you must excuse me if I cannot agree with you in all of your
+sentiments. I am sorry to say that old Butler's 'pulpit drum
+ecclesiastic' seldom beat me to a church parade while I was in England,
+and here in Virginia they send us the worst preachers, as they send us
+the worst of every thing. But a truce to the subject. Tell me are you a
+believer in presentiments?"
+
+"Surely such things are possible, but I believe them to be rare,"
+replied his companion. "Future events certainly make an impression upon
+the animal creation, and I know not why man should be exempt entirely
+from a similar law. The migratory birds will seek a more southern clime,
+even before a change of weather is indicated by the wind, and the
+appearance of the albatross, or the bubbling of the porpoise, if we may
+believe the sailors' account, portend a storm."
+
+"These phenomena," suggested Bacon, "may easily be explained by some
+atmospheric influence, insensible to our nature, but easily felt by
+them."
+
+"I might answer," replied Hansford, "that if insensible to us, we are
+not warranted in presuming their existence. But who can tell in the
+subtle mechanism of the mind how sensitive it may be to the impressions
+of coming yet unseen events. At least, all nations have believed in the
+existence of such an influence, and the Deity himself has deigned to use
+it through his prophets, in the revelation of his purposes to man."
+
+"Well, true or not," said Bacon, in a low voice, "I have felt the effect
+of such a presentiment in my own mind, and although I have tried to
+resist its influence I have been unable to do so. There is something
+which whispers to me, Hansford, that I will not see the consummation of
+my hopes in this colony--and that dying I shall leave behind me an
+inglorious name. For what at last is an unsuccessful patriot but a
+rebel. And oh, as I have listened to the monitions of this demon, it
+seemed as though the veil of futurity were raised, and I could read my
+fate in after years. Some future chronicler will record this era of
+Virginia's history, and this struggle for freedom on the part of her
+patriot children will be styled rebellion; our actions misrepresented;
+our designs misinterpreted; and I the leader and in part the author of
+the movement will be handed down with Wat Tyler and Jack Cade to infamy,
+obloquy and reproach."
+
+"Think not thus gloomily," said Hansford, "the feelings you describe are
+often suggested to an excited imagination by the circumstances with
+which it is surrounded; just as dreams are the run mad chroniclers of
+our daily thoughts and hopes and apprehensions. You should not yield to
+them, General, they unman you or at least unfit you for the duties which
+lie before you."
+
+"You are right," returned Bacon; "and I banish them from me forever. I
+have half a mind to acknowledge myself your convert, Hansford; eschew
+the gaily bedizzened Glory, and engage your demure little Quaker, Duty,
+as my handmaiden in her place."
+
+"I will feel but too proud of such a convert to my creed," said Hansford
+laughing. "And now what of your plans on Jamestown?"
+
+"Why to tell you the truth," said Bacon gravely; "I am somewhat at fault
+in regard to my actions there. I could take the town in a day, and
+repulse those raw recruits of the old Governor with ease, if they would
+only sally out. But I suspect the old tyrant will play a safe game with
+me--and securely ensconced behind his walls, will cut my brave boys to
+pieces with his cannon before I can make a successful breach."
+
+"You could throw up breastworks for your protection," suggested
+Hansford.
+
+"Aye, but I fear it would be building a stable after the horse was
+stolen. With our small force we could not resist their guns while we
+were constructing our fortifications. But I will try it by night, and we
+may succeed. The d----d old traitor--if he would only meet me in open
+field, I could make my way 'through twenty times his stop.'"
+
+"Well, we must encounter some risk," replied Hansford. "I have great
+hopes from the character of his recruits, too. Though they number much
+more than ourselves, yet they serve without love, and in the present
+exhausted exchequer of the colony, are fed more by promises than money."
+
+"They are certainly not likely to be fed by _angels_," said Bacon, "as
+some of the old prophets are said to have been. But, Hansford, an idea
+has just struck me, which is quite a new manoeuvre in warfare, and
+from which your ideas of chivalry will revolt."
+
+"What is it?" asked Hansford eagerly.
+
+"Why if it succeeds," returned Bacon, "I will warrant that Jamestown is
+in our hands in twenty-four hours, without the loss of more blood than
+would fill a quart canteen."
+
+"Bravo, then, General, if you add such an important principle to the
+stock of military tactics, I'll warrant that whispering demon lied, and
+that you will retain both Glory and Duty in your service."
+
+"I am afraid you will change your note, Thomas, when I develope my plan.
+It is simply this--to detail a party of men to scour the country around
+Jamestown, and collect the good dames and daughters of our loyal
+councillors. If we take them with us, I'll promise to provide a secure
+defence against the enemies' fire. The besieged will dare not fire a
+gun so long as there is danger of striking their wives and children, and
+we, in the meantime, secure behind this temporary breastwork, will
+prepare a less objectionable defence. What think you of the plan,
+Hansford?"
+
+"Good God!" cried Hansford, "You are not in earnest General Bacon?"
+
+"And why not?" said Bacon, in reply. "If such a course be not adopted,
+at least half of the brave fellows behind us will be slaughtered like
+sheep. While no harm can result to the ladies themselves, beyond the
+inconvenience of a few hours' exposure to the night air, which they
+should willingly endure to preserve life."
+
+Hansford was silent. He knew how useless it was to oppose Bacon when he
+had once resolved. His chivalrous nature revolted at the idea of
+exposing refined and delicate females to such a trial. And yet he could
+not deny that the project if successfully carried out would be the means
+of saving much bloodshed, and of ensuring a speedy and easy victory to
+the insurgents.
+
+"Why, what are you thinking of, man," said Bacon gaily. "I thought my
+project would wound your delicate sensibilities. But to my mind there is
+more real chivalry and more true humanity in sparing brave blood to
+brave hearts, than in sacrificing it to a sickly regard for a woman's
+feelings."
+
+"The time has been when brave blood would have leaped gushing from brave
+hearts," said Hansford proudly, "to protect woman from the slightest
+shadow of insult."
+
+"Most true, my brave Chevalier Bayard," said Bacon, in a tone of
+unaffected good humor, "and shall again--and mine, believe me, will not
+be more sluggish in such a cause than your own. But here no insult is
+intended and none will be given. These fair prisoners shall be treated
+with the respect due to their sex and station. My hand and sword for
+that. But the time has been when woman too was willing to sacrifice her
+shrinking delicacy in defence of her country. Wot ye how Rome was once
+saved by the noble intercession of the wife and mother of Caius
+Marcus--or how the English forces were beaten from the walls of Orleans
+by the heroic Joan, or how--"
+
+"You need not multiply examples," said Hansford interrupting him, "to
+show how women of a noble nature have unsexed themselves to save their
+country. Your illustrations do not apply, for they did voluntarily what
+the ladies of Virginia must do upon compulsion. But, sir, I have no more
+to say. If you persist in this resolution, unchivalrous as I believe it
+to be, yet I will try to see my duty in ameliorating the condition of
+these unhappy females as far as possible."
+
+"And in me you shall have been a most cordial coadjutor," returned
+Bacon. "But, my dear fellow, your chivalry is too shallow. Excuse me, if
+I say that it is all mere sentiment without a substratum of reason. Now
+look you--you would willingly kill in battle the husbands of these
+ladies, and thus inflict a life-long wound upon them, and yet you refuse
+to pursue a course by which lives may be saved, because it subjects them
+to a mere temporary inconvenience. But look again. Have you no sympathy
+left for the wives, no chivalry for the daughters of our own brave
+followers, whose hearts will be saved full many a pang by a stratagem,
+which will ensure the safety of their protectors. Believe me, my dear
+Hansford, if chivalry be nought but a mawkish sentiment, which would
+throw away the real substance of good, to retain the mere shadow
+reflected in its mirror, like the poor dog in the fable--the sooner its
+reign is over the better for humanity."
+
+"But, General Bacon," said Hansford, by no means convinced by the
+sophistry of his plausible leader, "if the future chronicler of whom you
+spoke, should indeed write the history of this enterprise, he will
+record no fact which will reflect less honour upon your name, than that
+you found a means for your defence in the persons of defenceless
+women."
+
+"So let it be, my gallant chevalier," replied Bacon, gaily, determined
+not to be put out of humour by Hansford's grave remonstrance. "But you
+have taught me not to look into future records for my name, or for the
+vindication of my course--and your demure damsel Duty has whispered that
+I am in the path of right. Look ye, Hansford, don't be angry with your
+friend; for I assure you on the honour of a gentleman, that the dames
+themselves will bear testimony to the chivalry of Nathaniel Bacon. And
+besides, my dear fellow, we will not impress any but the sterner old
+dames into our service. You know the older they are the better they will
+serve for material for an _impregnable_ fortress."
+
+So saying, Bacon ordered a halt, and communicating to his soldiers his
+singular design, he detailed Captain Wilford and a party of a dozen men,
+selected on account of their high character, to capture and bring into
+his camp the wives of certain of the royalists, who, though residing in
+the country, had rallied to the support of Sir William Berkeley, on his
+return to Jamestown. In addition to these who were thus found in their
+several homes, the detailed corps had intercepted the carriage of our
+old friend, Colonel Temple; for the old loyalist had no sooner heard of
+the return of Sir William Berkeley, than he hastened to join him at the
+metropolis, leaving his wife and daughter to follow him on the
+succeeding day. What was the consternation and mortification of Thomas
+Hansford as he saw the fair Virginia Temple conducted, weeping, into the
+rude camp of the insurgents, followed by her high-tempered old mother,
+who to use the chaste and classic simile of Tony Lumpkin, "fidgeted and
+spit about like a Catherine wheel."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+    "It is the cry of women, good, my lord."
+                                            _Macbeth._
+
+
+Agreeably with the promise of Bacon, the captured ladies were treated
+with a respect and deference which allayed in a great degree their many
+apprehensions. Still they could not refrain from expressions of the
+strongest indignation at an act so unusual, so violent, and so entirely
+at war with the established notions of chivalry at the time. As the
+reader will readily conjecture, our good friend, Mrs. Temple, was by no
+means the most patient under the wrongs she had endured, and resisting
+the kind attentions of those around her, she was vehement in her
+denunciations of her captors, and in her apprehensions of a thousand
+imaginary dangers.
+
+"Oh my God!" she cried, "I know that they intend to murder us. To think
+of leaving a quiet home, and being exposed to such treatment as this.
+Oh, my precious husband, if he only knew what a situation his poor
+Betsey was in at this moment; but never mind, as sure as I am a living
+woman, he shall know it, and then we will see."
+
+"My dear Mrs. Temple," said Mrs. Ballard, another of the captives, "do
+not give way to your feelings thus. It is useless, and will only serve
+to irritate these men."
+
+"Men! they are not men!" returned the excited old lady, refusing to be
+comforted. "Men never would have treated ladies so. They are base,
+cruel, inhuman wretches, and, as I said before, if I live, to get to
+Jamestown, Colonel Temple shall know of it too--so he shall."
+
+"But reflect, my dear friend, that our present condition is not
+affected by this very natural resolution which you have made, to inform
+your husband of your wrongs. But whatever may be the object of these
+persons, I feel assured that they intend no personal injury to us."
+
+"No personal injury, forsooth; and have we not sustained it already.
+Look at my head-tire, all done up nicely just before I left the hall,
+and now scarcely fit to be seen. And is it nothing to be hauled all over
+the country with a party of ruffians, that I would be ashamed to be
+caught in company with; and who knows what they intend?"
+
+"I admit with you, my dear madam," said Mrs. Ballard, "that such conduct
+is unmanly and inexcusable, and I care not who hears me say so. But
+still," she added in a low voice, "we have the authority of scripture to
+make friends even of the mammon of unrighteousness."
+
+"Friends! I would die first. I who have been moving in the first
+circles, the wife of Colonel Temple, who, if he had chosen, might have
+been the greatest in the land, to make friends with a party of mean,
+sneaking, cowardly ruffians. Never--and I'll speak my mind freely
+too--they shall see that I have a woman's tongue in my head and know how
+to resent these injuries. Oh, for shame! and to wear swords too, which
+used to be the badge of gentlemen and cavaliers, who would rather have
+died than wrong a poor, weak, defenceless woman--much less to rob and
+murder her."
+
+"Well, let us hope for the best, my friend," said Mrs. Ballard; "God
+knows I feel as you do, that we have been grossly wronged; but let us
+remember that we are in the hands of a just and merciful Providence, who
+will do with us according to his holy will."
+
+"I only know that we are in the hands of a parcel of impious and
+merciless wretches," cried the old lady, who, as we have seen on a
+former occasion, derived but little comfort from the consolations of
+religion in the hour of trial. "I hope I have as much religion as my
+fellows, who pretend to so much more--but I should like to know what
+effect that would have on a band of lawless cut-throats?"
+
+"He has given us his holy promise," said Virginia, in a solemn, yet
+hopeful voice of resignation, "that though we walk through the valley
+and the shadow of death, he will be with us--his rod and his staff will
+comfort us--yea, he prepareth a table for us in the presence of our
+enemies, our cup runneth over."
+
+"Well, I reckon I know that as well as you, miss; but it seems there is
+but little chance of having a table prepared for us here," retorted her
+mother, whose fears and indignation had whetted rather than allayed her
+appetite. "But I think it is very unseemly in a young girl to be so calm
+under such circumstances. I know that when I was your age, the bare idea
+of submitting to such an exposure as this would have shocked me out of
+my senses."
+
+Virginia could not help thinking, that considering the lapse of time
+since her mother was a young girl, there had been marvellously little
+change wrought in her keen sensibility to exposure; for she was already
+evidently "shocked out of her senses." But she refrained from expressing
+such a dangerous opinion, and replied, in a sad tone--
+
+"And can you think, my dearest mother, that I do not feel in all its
+force our present awful condition! But, alas! what can we do. As Mrs.
+Ballard truly says, our best course is to endeavour to move the coarse
+sympathies of these rebels, and even if they should not relent, they
+will at least render our condition less fearful by their forbearance and
+respect. Oh, my mother! my only friend in this dark hour of peril and
+misfortune, think not so harshly of your daughter as to suppose that she
+feels less acutely the horrors of her situation, because she fails to
+express her fears." And so saying, the poor girl drew yet closer to her
+mother, and wept upon her bosom.
+
+"I meant not to speak unkindly, dear Jeanie," said the good-hearted old
+lady, "but you know, my child, that when my fears get the better of me,
+I am not myself. It does seem to me, that I was born under some unlucky
+star. Ever since I was born the world has been turning upside down; and
+God knows, I don't know what I have done that it should be so. But
+first, that awful revolution in England, and then, when we came here to
+pass our old days in peace and quiet, this infamous rebellion. And yet I
+must say, I never knew any thing like this. There was at least some show
+of religion among the old Roundheads, and though they were firm and
+demure enough, and hated all kinds of amusement, and cruel enough too
+with all their psalm singing, to cut off their poor king's head, yet
+they always treated women with respect and decency. But, indeed, even
+the rebels of the present day are not what they used to be."
+
+Virginia could scarcely forbear smiling, amid her tears, at this new
+application of her mother's favourite theory. The conversation was here
+interrupted by the approach of a young officer, who, bowing respectfully
+to the bevy of captive ladies, said politely, that he was sorry to
+intrude upon their presence, but that, as it was time to pursue their
+journey, he had come to ask if the ladies would partake of some
+refreshment before their ride.
+
+"If they could share the rough fare of a soldier, it would bestow a
+great favour and honour upon him to attend to their wishes; and indeed,
+as it would be several hours before they could reach Jamestown, they
+would stand in need of some refreshment, ere they arrived at more
+comfortable quarters."
+
+"As your unhappy prisoners, sir," said Mrs. Ballard, with great dignity,
+"we can scarcely object to a soldier's fare. Prisoners have no choice
+but to take the food which the humanity of their jailers sets before
+them. Your apology is therefore needless, if not insulting to our
+misfortunes."
+
+"Well, madam," returned Wilford, in the same respectful tone, "I did not
+mean to offend you, and regret that I have done so through mistaken
+kindness. May I add that, in common with the rest of the army, I deplore
+the necessity which has compelled us to resort to such harsh means
+towards yourselves, in order to ensure success and safety."
+
+"I deeply sympathize with you in your profound regret," said Mrs.
+Ballard, ironically. "But pray tell me, sir, if you learned this very
+novel and chivalric mode of warfare from the savages with whom you have
+been contending, or is it the result of General Bacon's remarkable
+military genius?"
+
+"It is the result of the stern necessity under which we rest, of coping
+with a force far superior to our own. And I trust that while your
+ladyships can suffer but little inconvenience from our course, you will
+not regret your own cares, if thereby you might prevent an effusion of
+blood."
+
+"Oh, that is it," replied Mrs. Ballard, in the same tone of withering
+irony. "I confess that I was dull enough to believe that the
+self-constituted, self-styled champions of freedom had courage enough to
+battle for the right, and not to screen themselves from danger, as a
+child will seek protection behind its mother's apron, from the attack of
+an enraged cow."
+
+"Madam, I will not engage in an encounter of wits with you. I will do
+you but justice when I say that few would come off victors in such a
+contest. But I have a message from one of our officers to this young
+lady, I believe, which I was instructed to reserve for her private ear."
+
+"There is no need for a confidential communication," said Virginia
+Temple, "as I have no secret which I desire to conceal from my mother
+and these companions in misfortune. If, therefore, you have aught to
+say to me, you may say it here, or else leave it unexpressed."
+
+"As you please, my fair young lady," returned Wilford. "My message
+concerns you alone, but if you do not care to conceal it from your
+companions, I will deliver it in their presence. Major Thomas Hansford
+desires me to say, that if you would allow him the honour of an
+interview of a few moments, he would gladly take the opportunity of
+explaining to you the painful circumstances by which you are surrounded,
+in a manner which he trusts may meet with your approbation."
+
+"Say to Major Thomas Hansford," replied Virginia, proudly, "that, as I
+am his captive, I cannot prevent his intrusion into my presence. I
+cannot refuse to hear what he may have to speak. But tell him, moreover,
+that no explanation can justify this last base act, and that no
+reparation can erase it from my memory. Tell him that she who once
+honoured him, and loved him, as all that was noble, and generous, and
+chivalric, now looks back upon the past as on a troubled dream; and
+that, in future, if she should hear his name, she will remember him but
+as one who, cast in a noble mould, might have been worthy of the highest
+admiration, but, defaced by an indelible stain, is cast aside as worthy
+alike of her indignation and contempt."
+
+As the young girl uttered the last fatal words, she sank back into her
+grassy seat by her mother's side, as though exhausted by the effort she
+had made. She had torn with violent resolution from her breast the image
+which had so long been enshrined there--not only as a picture to be
+loved, but as an idol to be worshipped--and though duty had nerved and
+sustained her in the effort, nothing could assuage the anguish it
+inflicted. She did not love him then, but she had loved him; and her
+heart, like the gloomy chamber where death has been, seemed more
+desolate for the absence of that which, though hideous to gaze upon,
+was now gone forever.
+
+Young Wilford was deeply impressed with the scene, and could not
+altogether conceal the emotion which it excited. In a hurried and
+agitated voice he promised to deliver her message to Hansford, and
+bowing again politely to the ladies, he slowly withdrew.
+
+In a few moments one of the soldiers came with the expected refreshment,
+which certainly justified the description which Wilford had given. It
+was both coarse and plain. Jerked venison, which had evidently been the
+property of a stag with a dozen branches to his horns, and some dry and
+moulding biscuit, completed the homely repast. Virginia, and most of her
+companions, declined partaking of the unsavoury viands, but Mrs. Temple,
+though bitterly lamenting her hard fate, in dooming her to such hard
+fare, worked vigorously away at the tough venison with her two remaining
+molars--asserting the while, very positively, that no such venison as
+that existed in her young days, though, to confess the truth, if we may
+judge from the evident age of the deceased animal, it certainly did.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+    "Yet, though dull hate as duty should be taught,
+    I know that thou wilt love me; though my name
+    Should be shut from thee, as a spell still fraught
+    With desolation,--and a broken claim;
+    Though the grave closed between us, 'twere the same."
+                                                _Childe Harold._
+
+
+The daylight had entirely disappeared, and the broad disc of the full
+September moon was just appearing above the eastern horizon, when Bacon
+and his followers resumed their march. Each of the captive ladies was
+placed upon a horse, behind one of the officers, whose heavy riding
+cloak was firmly girt to the horse's back, to provide a more comfortable
+seat. Thus advancing, at a constant, but slow pace, to accommodate the
+wearied soldiers, they pursued their onward course toward Jamestown. It
+was Bacon's object to arrive before the town as early as possible in the
+night, so as to secure the completion of their intrenchments and
+breastworks before the morning, when he intended to commence the siege.
+And now, as they are lighted on their way by the soft rays of the
+autumnal moon, let us hear the conversation which was passing between
+one of the cavaliers and his fair companion, as they rode slowly along
+at some distance from the rest.
+
+We may well suppose that Thomas Hansford, forced thus reluctantly to
+engage in a policy from which his very soul revolted, would not commit
+the charge of Virginia's person to another. She, at least, should learn,
+that though so brutally impressed into the service of the rebel army,
+there was an arm there to shield her from danger and protect her from
+rudeness or abuse. She, at least, should learn that there was one heart
+there, however despised and spurned by others, which beat in its every
+throb for her safety and happiness.
+
+Riding, as we have said, a little slower than the rest, so as to be a
+little out of hearing, he said, in a low voice, tremulous with half
+suppressed emotion, "Miss Temple cannot be ignorant of who her companion
+is?"
+
+"Your voice assures me," replied Virginia, "that my conjecture is right,
+and that I am in the presence of one who was once an honoured friend.
+But had your voice and form changed as entirely as your heart, I could
+never have recognized in the rebel who scruples not to insult a
+defenceless woman, the once gallant and chivalrous Hansford."
+
+"And do you, can you believe that my heart has indeed so thoroughly
+changed?"
+
+"I would fain believe so, else I am forced to the conclusion that I
+have, all my life, been deceived in a character which I deemed worthy of
+my love, while it was only the more black because it was hypocritical."
+
+"Virginia," said Hansford, with desperation, "you shall not talk thus;
+you shall not think thus of me."
+
+"As my captor and jailer," returned the brave hearted young maiden, "Mr.
+Hansford may, probably, by force, control the expression of my
+opinions--but thank God! not even you can control my thoughts. The mind,
+at least, is free, though the body be enslaved."
+
+"Nay, do not mistake my meaning, dear Virginia," said her lover. "But
+alas! I am the victim of misconstruction. Could you, for a moment,
+believe that I was capable of an act which you have justly described as
+unmanly and unchivalrous?"
+
+"What other opinion can I have?" said Virginia. "I find you acting with
+those who are guilty of an act as cowardly as it is cruel. I find you
+tacitly acquiescing in their measures, and aiding in guarding and
+conducting their unhappy captives--and I received from you a message in
+which you pretend to say that you can justify that which is at once
+inexcusable before heaven, and in the court of man's honour. Forgive me,
+if I am unable to separate the innocent from the guilty, and if I fail
+to see that your conduct is more noble in this attempt to shift the
+consequences of your crime upon your confederates."
+
+"Now, by Heaven, you wrong me!" returned Hansford. "My message to you
+was mistaken by Captain Wilford. I never said I could justify your
+capture; I charged him to tell you I could justify myself. And as for my
+being found with those who have committed this unmanly act, as well
+might you be deemed a participator in their actions now, because of your
+presence here. I remonstrated, I protested against such a course--and
+when at last adopted I denounced it as unworthy of men, and far more
+unworthy of soldiers and freemen."
+
+"And yet, when overwhelmed by the voices of others, you quietly
+acquiesce, and remain in companionship with those whose conduct you had
+denounced."
+
+"What else could I do?" urged Hansford. "My feeble arm could not resist
+the action of two hundred-men; and it only remained for me to continue
+here, that I might secure the safety and kind treatment of those who
+were the victims of this rude violence. Alas! how little did I think
+that so soon you would be one of those unhappy victims, and that my
+heart would deplore, for its own sake, a course from which my judgment
+and better nature already revolted."
+
+The scales fell from Virginia's eyes. She now saw clearly the bitter
+trial through which her lover had been called to pass, and recognized
+once more the generous, self-denying nature of Hansford. The stain upon
+his pure fame, to use her own figure, was but the effect of the false
+and deceptive lens through which she had looked, and now that she saw
+clearly, it was restored to its original purity and beauty.
+
+"And is this true, indeed?" she said, in a happy voice. "Believe me,
+Hansford, the relief which I feel at this moment more than compensates
+for all that I have endured. The renewed assurance of your honour atones
+for all. Can you forgive me for harbouring for a moment a suspicion that
+you were aught but the soul of honour?"
+
+"Forgive you, dearest?" returned Hansford. "Most freely--most fully! But
+scarcely can I forgive those who have so wronged you. Cast in a common
+lot with them, and struggling for a common cause, I cannot now withdraw
+from their association; and indeed, Virginia, I will be candid, and tell
+you freely that I would not if I could."
+
+"Alas!" said Virginia, "and what can be the result of your efforts.
+Sooner or later aid must come from England, and crush a rebellion whose
+success has only been ephemeral. And what else can be expected or
+desired, since we have already seen how lost to honour are those by whom
+it is attempted. Would you wish, if you could, to subject your country
+to the sway of men, who, impelled only by their own reckless passions,
+disregard alike the honour due from man and the respect due to woman?"
+
+"You mistake the character of these brave men, Virginia. I believe
+sincerely that General Bacon was prompted to this policy by a real
+desire to prevent the unnecessary loss of life; and though this humanity
+cannot entirely screen his conduct from reprehension, yet it may cast a
+veil over it. Bold and reckless though he be, his powerful mind is
+swayed by many noble feelings; and although he may commit errors, they
+nearly lose their grossness in his ardent love of freedom, and his
+exalted contempt of danger."
+
+"His love of freedom, I presume, is illustrated by his forcible capture
+of unprotected females," returned Virginia; "and his contempt of danger,
+by his desire to interpose his captives between himself and the guns of
+his enemies."
+
+"I have told you," said Hansford, "that this conduct is incapable of
+being justified, and in this I grant that Bacon has grievously erred."
+
+"Then why continue to unite your fortunes to a man whose errors are so
+gross and disgraceful, and whose culpable actions endanger your own
+reputation with your best friends?"
+
+"Because," said Hansford, proudly, "we are engaged in a cause, in the
+full accomplishment of which the faults and errors of its champion will
+be forgotten, and ransomed humanity will learn to bless his name,
+scarcely less bright for the imperfections on its disc."
+
+"Your reasoning reminds me," said Virginia, "of the heretical sect of
+Cainites, of whom my father once told me, who exalted even Judas to a
+hero, because by his treason redemption was effected for the world."
+
+"Well, my dear girl," replied Hansford, "you maintain your position most
+successfully. But since you quote from the history of the Church, I will
+illustrate my position after the manner of a sage old oracle of the law.
+Sir Edward Coke once alluded to the fable, that there was not a bird
+that flitted through the air, but contributed by its donations to
+complete the eagle's nest. And so liberty, whose fittest emblem is the
+eagle, has its home provided and furnished by many who are unworthy to
+enjoy the home which they have aided in preparing. Admit even, if you
+please, that General Bacon is one of these unclean birds, we cannot
+refuse the contribution which he brings in aid of the glorious cause
+which we maintain."
+
+"Aye, but he is like, with his vaulting ambition, to be the eagle
+himself," returned Virginia; "and to say truth, although I have great
+confidence in your protection, I feel like a lone dove in his talons,
+and would wish for a safer home than in his eyrie."
+
+"You need fear no danger, be assured, dearest Virginia," said Hansford,
+"either for yourself or your mother. It is a part of his plan to send
+one of the ladies under our charge into the city, to apprise the
+garrison of our strange manoeuvre; and I have already his word, that
+your mother and yourself will be the bearers of this message. In a few
+moments, therefore, your dangers will be past, and you will once more be
+in the arms of your noble old father."
+
+"Oh thanks, thanks, my generous protector," cried the girl, transported
+at this new prospect of her freedom. "I can never forget your kindness,
+nor cease to regret that I could ever have had a doubt of your honour
+and integrity."
+
+"Oh forget that," returned Hansford, "or remember it only that you may
+acknowledge that it is often better to bear with the circumstances which
+we cannot control, than by hasty opposition to lose the little influence
+we may possess with those in power. But see the moonlight reflected from
+the steeple of yonder church. We are within sight of Jamestown, and you
+will be soon at liberty. And oh! Virginia," he said sorrowfully, "if it
+should be decreed in the book of fate, that when we part to-night we
+part forever, and if the name of Hansford be defamed and vilified, you
+at least, I know, will rescue his honour from reproach--and one tear
+from my faithful Virginia, shed upon a patriot's grave, will atone for
+all the infamy which indignant vengeance may heap upon my name."
+
+So saying, he spurred his horse rapidly onward, until he overtook Bacon,
+who, with the precious burden under his care, as usual, led the way. And
+a precious burden it might well be called, for by the light of the moon
+the reader could have no difficulty in recognizing in the companion of
+the young general of the insurgents, our old acquaintance, Mrs. Temple.
+In the earlier part of their journey she had by no means contributed to
+the special comfort of her escort--now, complaining bitterly of the
+roughness of the road, she would grasp him around the waist with both
+arms, until he was in imminent peril of falling from his horse, and then
+when pacified by a smoother path and an easier gait, she would burst
+forth in a torrent of invective against the cowardly rebels who would
+misuse a poor old woman so. Bacon, however, while alike regardless of
+her complaints of the road, the horse, or himself, did all in his power
+to mollify the old lady, by humouring her prejudices as well as he
+could; and when he at last informed her of the plan by which she and her
+daughter would so soon regain their liberty, her temper relaxed, and she
+became highly communicative. She was, indeed, deep in a description of
+some early scenes of her life, and was telling how she had once seen the
+bonnie young Charley with her own eyes, when he was hiding from the
+pursuit of the Roundheads, and how he commended her loyalty, and above
+all her looks; and promised when he came to his own to bestow a peerage
+on her husband for his faithful adherence to the cause of his king. The
+narrative had already lasted an hour or more when Hansford and Virginia
+rode up and arrested the conversation, much to the relief of Bacon, who
+was gravely debating in his own mind whether it was more agreeable to
+hear the good dame's long-winded stories about past loyalty, or to
+submit to her vehement imprecations on present rebellion.
+
+The young general saluted Virginia courteously as she approached,
+expressing the hope that she had not suffered from her exposure to the
+night air, and then turned to Hansford, and engaged in conversation with
+him on matters of interest connected with the approaching contest.
+
+But as his remarks will be more fully understood, and his views
+developed in the next chapter, we forbear to record them here. Suffice
+it to say, that among other things it was determined, that immediately
+upon their arrival before Jamestown, Mrs. Temple and Virginia, under the
+escort of Hansford, should be conducted to the gate of the town, and
+convey to the Governor and his adherents the intelligence of the capture
+of the wives of the loyalists. We will only so far anticipate the
+regular course of our narrative as to say, that this duty was performed
+without being attended with any incident worthy of special remark; and
+that Hansford, bidding a sad farewell to Virginia and her mother,
+committed them to the care of the sentinel at the gate, and returned
+slowly and sorrowfully to the insurgent camp.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+    "How yet resolves the Governor of the town?
+    This is the latest parle we will admit.
+    If I begin the battery once again,
+    I will not leave the half achieved Harfleur,
+    Till in her ashes she lie buried."
+                                    _King Henry V._
+
+
+And now was heard on the clear night air the shrill blast of a solitary
+trumpet breathing defiance, and announcing to the besieged loyalists,
+the presence of the insurgents before the walls of Jamestown. Exhausted
+by their long march, and depressed by the still gloomy prospect before
+them, the thinned ranks of the rebel army required all the encouraging
+eloquence of their general, to urge them forward in their perilous duty.
+Nor did they need it long. Drawing his wearied, but faithful followers
+around him, the young and ardent enthusiast addressed them in language
+like the following:
+
+     "SOLDIERS,"
+
+     "Animated by a desire to free your country from the incursions of a
+     savage foe, you have crowned your arms with victory and your lives
+     with honor. You have annihilated the Indian power in Virginia, and
+     in the waters of the brook which was the witness of your victory,
+     you have washed away the stains of its cruelty. The purple blood
+     which dyed that fatal stream, has even now passed away; Yet your
+     deeds shall survive in the name which you have given it. And future
+     generations, when they look upon its calm and unstained bosom, will
+     remember with grateful hearts, those brave men who have given
+     security to their homes, and will bless your patriot names when
+     they repeat the story of Bloody Run.
+
+     "For this you have been proclaimed traitors to your country and
+     rebels to your king. Traitors to a country within whose borders the
+     Indian war whoop has been hushed by your exertions! Rebels to your
+     king for preserving Virginia, the brightest jewel in his crown,
+     from inevitable ruin! But though you have accomplished much, much
+     yet remains undone. Then nerve your stout hearts and gird on your
+     armour once more for the contest. Though your enemies are not to be
+     despised, they are not to be feared. _They_ fight as mercenaries
+     uninspired by the cause which they have espoused. _You_ battle for
+     freedom, for honor and for life. Your freedom is threatened by the
+     oppressions of a relentless tyrant and a subservient Assembly. Your
+     honor is assailed, for you are publicly branded as traitors. Your
+     lives are proscribed by those who have basely charged your
+     patriotism as treason, and your defence of your country as
+     rebellion. Be not dismayed with the numbers of your foes. Think
+     only that it is yours to lessen them. Remember that Peace can never
+     come to you, though you woo it never so sweetly. You must go to it,
+     even though your way thither lay through a sea of blood. You will
+     find me ever where danger is thickest. I will share your peril now
+     and your reward hereafter."
+
+Inspired with new ardour, by the words and still more by the example of
+their leader, the soldiers proceeded to the task of constructing a
+breastwork for their defence. Bacon himself at imminent risk to his
+person, drew with his own hands the line for the entrenchment, while the
+soldiers prepared for themselves a secure defence from attack by a
+breastwork composed of felled trees, earth, and brushwood. It was a
+noble sight, I ween, to see these hardy patriots of the olden time,
+nearly sinking under fatigue, yet working cheerfully and ardently in the
+cause of freedom--to hear their axes ringing merrily through the still
+night air, and the tall forest trees falling with a heavy crash, as they
+were preparing their rude fortifications; and to look up on the cold,
+silent moon, as she watched them from her high path in heaven, and you
+might almost think, smiled with cold disdain, to think that all their
+hopes would be blasted, and their ardour checked by defeat, while she in
+her pride of fulness would traverse that same high arch twelve hundred
+times before the day-star of freedom dawned upon the land.
+
+Meantime the besieged loyalists having heard with surprise and
+consternation, the story of Mrs. Temple and Virginia, were completely
+confounded. Fearing to fire a single gun, lest the ball intended for
+their adversaries might pierce the heart of some innocent woman, they
+were forced to await with impatience the completion of the works of the
+insurgents. The latter had not the same reason for forbearance, and made
+several successful sorties upon the palisades, which surrounded the
+town, effecting several breaches, and killing some men, but without loss
+to any their own party. Furious at the successful stratagems of the
+rebels and fearing an accession to their number from the surrounding
+country, Sir William Berkeley at length determined to make a sally from
+the town, and test the strength and courage of his adversaries in an
+open field. Bacon, meanwhile, having effected his object in securing a
+sufficient fortification, with much courtesy dismissed the captive
+ladies, who went, rejoicing at their liberation, to tell the story of
+their wrongs to their loyal husbands.
+
+The garrison of Jamestown consisting of about twenty cavalier loyalists,
+and eight hundred raw, undisciplined recruits, picked up by Berkeley
+during his stay in Accomac, were led on firmly towards the entrenchments
+of the rebels, by Beverley and Ludwell, who stood high in the confidence
+of the Governor, and in the esteem of the colony, as brave and
+chivalrous men. Among the subordinate officers in the garrison was
+Alfred Bernard, rejoicing in the commission of captain, but recently
+conferred, and burning to distinguish himself in a contest against the
+rebels. From their posts behind the entrenchment, the insurgents calmly
+watched the approach of their foes. Undismayed by their numbers, nearly
+four times as great as their own, they awaited patiently the signal of
+their general to begin the attack. Bacon, on his part, with all the
+ardour of his nature, possessed in an equal degree the coolness and
+prudence of a great general, and was determined not to risk a fire,
+until the enemy was sufficiently near to ensure heavy execution. When at
+length the front line of the assailants advanced within sixty yards of
+the entrenchment, he gave the word, which was obeyed with tremendous
+effect, and then without leaving their posts, they prepared to renew
+their fire. But it was not necessary. Despite the exhortations and
+prayers of their gallant officers, the royal army, dismayed at the first
+fire of the enemy, broke ranks and retreated, leaving their drum and
+their dead upon the field. In vain did Ludwell exhort them, in the name
+of the king, to return to the assault; in vain did the brave Beverley
+implore them as Virginians and Englishmen not to desert their colors; in
+vain did Alfred Bernard conjure them to retrieve the character of
+soldiers and of men, and to avenge the cause of wronged and insulted
+women upon the cowardly oppressors. Regardless alike of king, country or
+the laws of gallantry, the soldiers ran like frightened sheep, from
+their pursuers, nor stopped in their flight until once more safely
+ensconced behind their batteries, and under the protection of the cannon
+from the ships. The brave cavaliers looked aghast at this cowardly
+defection, and stood for a moment irresolute, with the guns of the
+insurgents bearing directly upon them. Bacon could easily have fired
+upon them with certain effect, but with the magnanimity of a brave man,
+he was struck with admiration for their dauntless courage, and with pity
+for their helplessness. Nor was he by any means anxious to pursue them,
+for he feared lest a victory so easily won, might be a stratagem of the
+enemy, and that by venturing to pursue, he might fall into an ambuscade.
+Contenting himself, therefore, with the advantage he had already gained,
+he remained behind his entrenchment, determined to wait patiently for
+the morrow, before he commenced another attack upon the town.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+    "Let's leave this town; for they are hairbrained slaves,
+    And hunger will enforce them to be more eager.
+    Of old I know them; rather with their teeth
+    The walls they'll tear down, than forsake the siege."
+                                                  _King Henry VI._
+
+
+It was very late, but there were few in Jamestown on that last night of
+its existence that cared to sleep. Those who were not kept awake by the
+cares of state or military duties, were yet suffering from an intense
+apprehension, which denied them repose. There was "hurrying to and fro,"
+along Stuart street, and "whispering with white lips," among the
+thronging citizens. Ever siding with the stronger party, and inclined to
+attribute to the besieged Governor the whole catalogue of evils under
+which the colony was groaning, many of the lower classes of the citizens
+expressed their sympathy with Nathaniel Bacon, and only awaited a secret
+opportunity to desert to his ranks. A conspiracy was ripening among the
+soldiery to open the gates to the insurgents, and surrender at once the
+town and the Governor into their hands--but over-awed by the resolute
+boldness of their leader, and wanting in the strength of will to act for
+themselves, they found it difficult to carry their plan into execution.
+
+Sir William Berkeley, with a few of his steady adherents and faithful
+friends, was anxiously awaiting, in the large hall of the palace, the
+tidings of the recent sally upon the besiegers. Notwithstanding the
+superior numbers of his men, he had but little confidence either in
+their loyalty or courage, while he was fully conscious of the desperate
+bravery of the insurgents. While hope whispered that the little band of
+rebels must yield to the overwhelming force of the garrison, fear
+interposed, to warn him of the danger of defection and cowardice in his
+ranks. As thus he sat anxiously endeavouring to guess the probable
+result of his sally, heavy footsteps were heard ascending the stairs.
+The heart of the old Governor beat thick with apprehension, and the damp
+drops wrung from him by anxiety and care, stood in cold beads upon his
+brow.
+
+"What news?" he cried, in a hoarse, agitated voice, as Colonel Ludwell,
+Robert Beverley, and Alfred Bernard entered the room. "But I read it in
+your countenances! All is lost!"
+
+"Yes, Governor Berkeley," said Philip Ludwell, "all is lost! we have not
+even the melancholy consolation of Francis, 'that our honour is
+preserved.' The cowardly hinds who followed us, fled from the first
+charge of the rebels, like frightened hares. All attempts to rally them
+were in vain, and many of them we understand have joined with the
+rebels."
+
+As the fatal tidings fell upon his ear, Berkeley pressed his hand to his
+forehead, and sobbed aloud. The heart of the brave old loyalist could
+bear no more--and all the haughty dignity of his nature gave way in a
+flood of bitter tears. But the effect was only transient, and nerving
+himself, he controlled his feelings once more by the energy of his iron
+will.
+
+"How many still remain with us?" he asked, anxiously, of Ludwell.
+
+"Alas! sir, if the rumour which we heard as we came hither be
+true--none, absolutely none. There was an immense crowd gathered around
+the tavern, listening to the news of our defeat from one of the
+soldiers, and as we passed a loud and insulting cry went up of "Long
+live Bacon! and down with tyranny!" The soldiers declared that they
+would not stain their hands with the blood of their fellow-subjects; the
+citizens as vehemently declared that the town itself should not long
+harbour those who had trampled on their rights. Treason stalks abroad
+boldly and openly, and I fear that the loyalty of Virginia is confined
+to this room."
+
+"Now, Heaven help me," said Berkeley, sadly, "for the world has well
+nigh deserted me. And yet, if I fall, I shall fall at my post, and the
+trust bestowed upon me by my king shall be yielded only with my life."
+
+"It were madness to think of remaining longer here," said Beverley; "the
+rebels, with the most consummate courage, evince the most profound
+prudence and judgment. Before the dawn they will bring their cannon to
+bear upon our ships and force them to withdraw from the harbour, and
+then all means of escape being cut off, we will be forced to surrender
+on such terms as the enemy may dictate."
+
+"We will yield to no terms," replied Berkeley. "For myself, death is far
+preferable to dishonour. Rather than surrender the trust which I have in
+charge, let us remain here, until, like the brave senators of Rome, we
+are hacked to pieces at our posts by the swords of these barbarians."
+
+"But what can you expect to gain by such a desperate course," said old
+Ballard, who, though not without a sufficient degree of courage, would
+prefer rather to admire the heroism of the Roman patriots in history,
+than to vie with them in their desperate resolution.
+
+"I expect to retain my honour," cried the brave old Governor. "A brave
+man may suffer death--he can never submit to dishonour."
+
+"My honoured Governor," said Major Beverley, whose well-known courage
+and high-toned chivalry gave great effect to his counsel; "believe me,
+that we all admire your steady loyalty and your noble heroism. But
+reflect, that you gain nothing by desperation, and it is the part of
+true courage not to hazard a desperate risk without any hope of success.
+God knows that I would willingly yield up my own life to preserve
+unsullied the honour of my country, and the dignity of my king; but I
+doubt how far we serve his real interests by a deliberate sacrifice of
+all who are loyal to his cause."
+
+"And what then would you advise?" said the Governor, in an irritated
+manner. "To make a base surrender of our persons and our cause, and to
+grant to these insolent rebels every concession which their insolence
+may choose to demand? No! gentlemen, sooner would William Berkeley
+remain alone at his post, until his ashes mingled with the ashes of this
+palace, than yield one inch to rebels in arms."
+
+"It is not necessary," returned Beverley. "You may escape without loss
+of life or compromise of honour, and reserve until a future day your
+vengeance on these disloyal barbarians."
+
+Berkeley was silent.
+
+"Look," continued Beverley, leading the old loyalist to the window which
+overlooked the river; "by the light of dawn you can see the white sails
+of the Adam and Eve, as she rests at anchor in yonder harbor. There is
+still time to escape before the rebels can suspect our design. Once upon
+the deck of that little vessel, with her sails unfurled to this rising
+breeze, you may defy the threats of the besiegers. Then once more to
+your faithful Accomac, and when the forces from England shall arrive,
+trained bands of loyal and brave Britons, your vengeance shall then be
+commensurate with the indignities you have suffered."
+
+Still Berkeley hesitated, but his friends could see by the quiver of his
+lip, that the struggle was still going on, and that he was thinking with
+grim satisfaction of that promised vengeance.
+
+"Let me urge you," continued Beverley, encouraged by the effect which he
+was evidently producing; "let me urge you to a prompt decision. Will you
+remain longer in Jamestown, this nest of traitors, and expose your
+faithful adherents to certain death? Is loyalty so common in Virginia,
+that you will suffer these brave supporters of your cause to be
+sacrificed? Will you leave their wives and daughters, whom they can no
+longer defend, to the insults and outrages of a band of lawless
+adventurers, who have shown that they disregard the rights of men, and
+the more sacred deference due to a woman? We have done all that became
+us, as loyal citizens, to do. We have sustained the standard of the king
+until it were madness, not courage, further to oppose the designs of the
+rebels. Beset by a superior force, and with treason among our own
+citizens, and defection among our own soldiers--with but twenty stout
+hearts still true and faithful to their trust--our alternative is
+between surrender and death on the one hand, and flight and future
+vengeance on the other. Can you longer hesitate between the two? But
+see, the sky grows brighter toward the east, and the morning comes to
+increase the perils of the night. I beseech you, by my loyalty and my
+devotion to your interest, decide quickly and wisely."
+
+"I will go," replied Berkeley, after a brief pause, in a voice choking
+with emotion. "But God is my witness, that if I only were concerned,
+rebellion should learn that there was a loyalist who held his sacred
+trust so near his heart, that it could only be yielded with his
+life-blood. But why should I thus boast? Do with me as you please--I
+will go."
+
+No sooner was Berkeley's final decision known, than the whole palace was
+in a state of preparation. Hurriedly putting up such necessaries as
+would be needed in their temporary exile, the loyalists were soon ready
+for their sudden departure. Lady Frances, stately as ever, remained
+perhaps rather longer before her mirror, in the arrangement of her tire,
+than was consistent with their hasty flight. Virginia Temple scarcely
+devoted a moment for her own preparations, so constantly was her
+assistance required by her mother, who bustled about from trunk to
+trunk, in a perfect agony of haste--found she had locked up her mantle,
+which was in the very bottom of an immense trunk, and finally, when she
+had put her spectacles and keys in her pocket, declared that they were
+lost, and required Virginia to search in every hole and corner of the
+room for them. But with all these delays--ever incident to ladies, and
+old ones especially, when starting on a journey--the little party were
+at length announced to be ready for their "moonlight flitting." Sadly
+and silently they left the palace to darkness and solitude, and
+proceeded towards the river. At the bottom of the garden, which ran down
+to the banks of the river, were two large boats, belonging to the
+Governor, and which were often used in pleasure excursions. In these the
+fugitives embarked, and under the muscular efforts of the strong
+oarsmen, the richly freighted boats scudded rapidly through the water
+towards the good ship "Adam and Eve," which lay at a considerable
+distance from the shore, to avoid the guns of the insurgents.
+
+Alfred Bernard had the good fortune to have the fair Virginia under his
+immediate charge; but the hearts of both were too full to improve the
+opportunity with much conversation. The young intriguer, who cared but
+little in his selfish heart for either loyalists or rebels, still felt
+that he had placed his venture on a wrong card, and was about to lose.
+The hopes of preferment which he had cherished were about to be
+dissipated by the ill fortune of his patron, and the rival of his love,
+crowned with success, he feared, might yet bear away the prize which he
+had so ardently coveted. Virginia Temple had more generous cause for
+depression than he. Hers was the hard lot to occupy a position of
+neutrality in interest between the contending parties. Whichever faction
+in the State succeeded, she must be a mourner; for, in either case, she
+was called upon to sacrifice an idol which she long had cherished, and
+which she must now yield for ever. They sat together near the stern of
+the boat, and watched the moonlight diamonds which sparkled for a moment
+on the white spray that dropped from the dripping oar, and then passed
+away.
+
+"It is thus," said Bernard, with a heavy sigh. "It is thus with this
+present transient life. We dance for a moment upon the white waves of
+fortune, rejoicing in light and hope and joy--but the great, unfeeling
+world rolls on, regardless of our little life, while we fade even while
+we sparkle, and our places are supplied by others, who in their turn,
+dance and shine, and smile, and pass away, and are forgotten!"
+
+"It is even so," said Virginia, sadly--then turning her blue eyes
+upward, she added, sweetly, "but see, Mr. Bernard, the moon which shines
+so still and beautiful in heaven, partakes not of the changes of these
+reflected fragments of her brightness. So we, when reunited to the
+heaven from which our spirits came, will shine again unchangeable and
+happy."
+
+"Yes, my sweet one," replied her lover passionately, "and were it my
+destiny to be ever thus with you, and to hear the sweet eloquence of
+your pure lips, I would not need a place in heaven to be happy."
+
+"Mr. Bernard," said Virginia, "is this a time or place to speak thus?
+The circumstances by which we are surrounded should check every selfish
+thought for the time, in our care for the more important interests at
+stake."
+
+"My fair, young loyalist," said Bernard, "and is it because of the
+interest excited in your bosom by the fading cause of loyalty, that you
+check so quickly the slightest word of admiration from one whom you have
+called your friend? Nay, fair maiden, be truthful even though you
+should be cruel."
+
+"To be candid, then, Mr. Bernard," returned Virginia, "I thought we had
+long ago consented not to mention that subject again. I hope you will be
+faithful to your promise."
+
+"My dearest Virginia, that compact was made when your heart had been
+given to another whom you thought worthy to reign there. Surely, you
+cannot, after the events of to-night oppose such an obstacle to my suit.
+Your gentle heart, my girl, is too pure and holy a shrine to afford
+refuge to a rebel, and a profaner of woman's sacred rights."
+
+"Mr. Bernard," said Virginia, "another word on this subject, and I seek
+refuge myself from your insults. You, who are the avowed champion of
+woman's rights, should know that she owns no right so sacred as to
+control the affections of her own heart. I have before told you in terms
+too plain to be misunderstood, that I can never love you. Force me not
+to repeat what you profess may give you pain, and above all force me not
+by your unwelcome and ungenerous assaults upon an absent rival to
+substitute for the real interest which I feel in your happiness, a
+feeling more strong and decided, but less friendly."
+
+"You mean that you would hate me," said Bernard, cut to the heart at her
+language, at once so firm and decided, yet so guarded and courteous.
+"Very well," he added, with an hauteur but illy assumed. "I trust I have
+more independence and self-respect than to intrude my attentions or
+conversation where they are unwelcome. But see, our journey is at an
+end, and though Miss Temple might have made it more pleasant, I am glad
+that we are freed from the embarrassment that we both must feel in a
+more extended interview."
+
+And now the loud voice of Captain Gardiner is heard demanding their
+names and wishes, which are soon told. The hoarse cable grates harshly
+along the ribs of the vessel, and the boats are drawn up close to her
+broadside, and the loyal fugitives ascending the rude and tremulous
+rope-ladder, stand safe and sound upon the deck of the Adam and Eve.
+
+Scarcely had Berkeley and his adherents departed on their flight from
+Jamestown, when some of the disaffected citizens of the town, seeing the
+lights in the palace so suddenly extinguished, shrewdly suspected their
+design. Without staying to ascertain the truth of their suspicions, they
+hastened with the intelligence to General Bacon, and threw open the
+gates to the insurgents. Highly elated with the easy victory they had
+gained over the loyalists, the triumphant patriots forgetting their
+fatigue and hunger, marched into the city, amid the loud acclamations of
+the fickle populace. But to the surprise of all there was still a gloom
+resting upon Bacon and his officers. That cautious and far-seeing man
+saw at a glance, that although he had gained an immense advantage over
+the royalists, in the capture of the metropolis, it was impossible to
+retain it in possession long. As soon as his army was dispersed, or
+engaged in another quarter of the colony, it would be easy for Berkeley,
+with the navy under his command, to return to the place, and erect once
+more the fallen standard of loyalty.
+
+While then, the soldiery were exulting rapturously over their triumph,
+Bacon, surrounded by his officers, was gravely considering the best
+policy to pursue.
+
+"My little army is too small," he said, "to leave a garrison here, and
+so long as they remain thus organized peace will be banished from the
+colony; and yet I cannot leave the town to become again the harbour of
+these treacherous loyalists."
+
+"I can suggest no policy that is fit to pursue, in such an emergency,"
+said Hansford, "except to retain possession of the town, at least until
+the Governor is fairly in Accomac again."
+
+"That, at best," said Bacon, "will only be a dilatory proceeding, for
+sooner or later, whenever the army is disbanded, the stubborn old
+governor will return and force us to continue the war. And besides I
+doubt whether we could maintain the place with Brent besieging us in
+front, and the whole naval force of Virginia, under the command of such
+expert seamen as Gardiner and Larimore, attacking us from the river. No,
+no, the only way to untie the Gordian knot is to cut it, and the only
+way to extricate ourselves from this difficulty is to burn the town."
+
+This policy, extreme as it was, in the necessities of their condition
+was received with a murmur of assent. Lawrence and Drummond, devoted
+patriots, and two of the wealthiest and most enterprising citizens of
+the town, evinced their willingness to sacrifice their private means to
+secure the public good, by firing their own houses. Emulating an example
+so noble and disinterested, other citizens followed in their wake. The
+soldiers, ever ready for excitement, joined in the fatal work. A stiff
+breeze springing up, favored their design, and soon the devoted town was
+enveloped in the greedy flames.
+
+From the deck of the Adam and Eve, the loyalists witnessed the stern,
+uncompromising resolution of the rebels. The sun was just rising, and
+his broad, red disc was met in his morning glory with flames as bright
+and as intense as his own. The Palace, the State House, the large Garter
+Tavern, the long line of stores, and the Warehouse, all in succession
+were consumed. The old Church, the proud old Church, where their fathers
+had worshipped, was the last to meet its fate. The fire seemed unwilling
+to attack its sacred walls, but it was to fall with the rest; and as the
+broad sails of the gay vessel were spread to the morning breeze, which
+swelled them, that devoted old Church was seen in its raiment of fire,
+like some old martyr, hugging the flames which consumed it, and pointing
+with its tapering steeple to an avenging Heaven.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+    "We take no note of time but by its loss."
+                                            _Young._
+
+
+It is permitted to the story teller, like the angels of ancient
+metaphysicians, to pass from point to point, and from event to event,
+without traversing the intermediate space or time. A romance thus
+becomes a moving panorama, where the prominent objects of interest pass
+in review before the eyes of the spectator, and not an atlas or chart,
+where the toiling student, with rigid scrutiny must seek the latitude
+and longitude of every object which meets his view.
+
+Availing ourselves of this privilege, we will pass rapidly over the
+events which occurred subsequently to the burning of Jamestown, and
+again resume the narrative where it more directly affects the fortunes
+of Hansford and Virginia. We will then suppose that it is about the
+first of January, 1677, three months after the circumstances detailed in
+the last chapter. Nathaniel Bacon, the arch rebel, as the loyal
+historians and legislators of his day delighted to call him, has passed
+away from the scenes of earth. The damp trenches of Jamestown, more
+fatal than the arms of his adversaries, have stilled the restless
+beating of that bold heart, which in other circumstances might have
+insured success to the cause of freedom. An industrious compiler of the
+laws of Virginia, and an ingenious commentator on her Colonial History,
+has suggested from the phraseology of one of the Acts of the Assembly,
+that Bacon met his fate by the dagger of the assassin, employed by the
+revengeful Berkeley. But the account of his death is too authentic to
+admit of such a supposition, and the character of Sir William Berkeley,
+already clouded with relentless cruelty, is happily freed from the foul
+imputation, that to the prejudices and sternness of the avenging
+loyalist he added the atrocity of a malignant fiend. We have the most
+authentic testimony, that Nathaniel Bacon died of a dysentery,
+contracted by his exposure in the trenches of Jamestown, at the house of
+a Dr. Pate, in the county of Gloucester; and that the faithful Lawrence,
+to screen his insensate clay from the rude vengeance of the Governor,
+gave the young hero a grave in some unknown forest, where after life's
+fitful fever he sleeps well.
+
+The cause of freedom, having lost its head, fell a prey to discord and
+defection. In the selection of a leader to succeed the gallant Bacon,
+dissensions prevailed among the insurgents, and disgusted at last with
+the trials to which they were exposed, and wearied with the continuance
+of a civil war, the great mass of the people retired quietly to their
+homes. Ingram and Walklate, who attempted to revive the smouldering
+ashes of the rebellion, were the embodiments of frivolity and stupidity,
+and were unable to retain that influence over the stern and high-toned
+patriots which was essential to united action. Deprived of their
+support, as may be easily conjectured, there was no longer any
+difficulty in suppressing the ill-fated rebellion; and Walklate,
+foreseeing the consequences of further resistance, resolved to make a
+separate peace for himself and a few personal friends, and to leave his
+more gallant comrades to their fate. The terms of treaty proposed by
+Berkeley were dispatched by Captain Gardiner to the selfish leader, who,
+with the broken remnant of the insurgents, was stationed at West Point.
+He acceded to the terms with avidity, and thus put a final end to a
+rebellion, which, even at that early day, was so near securing the
+blessings of rational freedom to Virginia.
+
+Meantime, the long expected aid from England had arrived, and Berkeley,
+with an organized and reliable force at his command, prepared, with grim
+satisfaction, to execute his terrible vengeance upon the proscribed and
+fugitive insurgents. Major Beverley, at the head of a considerable
+force, was dispatched in pursuit of such of the unhappy men as might
+linger secreted in the woods and marshes near the river--and smaller
+parties were detailed for the same object in other parts of the colony.
+Many of the fugitives were captured and brought before the relentless
+Governor. There, mocked and insulted in their distress, the devoted
+patriots were condemned by a court martial, and with cruel haste hurried
+to execution. The fate of the gallant Lawrence, to whom incidental
+allusion has been frequently made in the foregoing pages, was long
+uncertain--but at last those interested in his fate were forced to the
+melancholy conclusion, that well nigh reduced to starvation in his
+marshy fastness, with Roman firmness, the brave patriot fell by his own
+hand, rather than submit to the ruthless cruelty of the vindictive
+Governor.
+
+Thomas Hansford was among those who were proscribed fugitives from the
+vengeance of the loyalists. He had in vain endeavoured to rally the
+dispirited insurgents, and to hazard once more the event of a battle
+with the royal party. He indignantly refused to accept the terms, so
+readily embraced by Walklate, and determined to share the fate of those
+brave comrades, in whose former triumph he had participated. And now, a
+lonely wanderer, he eluded the vigilant pursuit of his enemies, awaiting
+with anxiety, the respite which royal interposition would grant, to the
+unabating vengeance of the governor. He was not without strong hope that
+the clemency which reflected honour on Charles the Second, towards the
+enemies of his father, would be extended to the promoters of the
+ill-fated rebellion in Virginia. In default of this, he trusted to make
+his escape into Maryland, after the eagerness of pursuit was over, and
+there secretly to embark for England--where, under an assumed name, he
+might live out the remnant of his days in peace and security, if not in
+happiness. It was with a heavy heart that he looked forward to even this
+remote chance of escape and safety--for it involved the necessity of
+leaving, for ever, his widowed mother, who leaned upon his strong arm
+for support; and his beloved Virginia, in whose smiles of favour, he
+could alone be happy. Still, it was the only honourable chance that
+offered, and while as a brave man he had nerved himself for any fate, as
+a good man, he could not reject the means of safety which were extended
+to him.
+
+While these important changes were taking place in the political world,
+the family at Windsor Hall were differently affected by the result.
+Colonel Temple, in the pride of his gratified loyalty, could not
+disguise his satisfaction even from his unhappy daughter, and rubbed his
+hands gleefully as the glad tidings came that the rebellion had been
+quelled. The old lady shared his happiness with all her heart, but
+mingled with her joy some of the harmless vanity of her nature. She
+attributed the happy result in a good degree to the counsel and wisdom
+of her husband, and recurred with great delight to her own bountiful
+hospitality to the fugitive loyalists. Nay, in the excess of her
+self-gratulation, she even hinted an opinion, that if Colonel Temple had
+remained in England, the cause of loyalty would have been much advanced,
+and that General Monk would not have borne away the palm of having
+achieved the glorious restoration.
+
+But these loyal sentiments of gratulation met with no response in the
+heart of Virginia Temple. The exciting scenes through which she had
+lately passed had left their traces on her young heart. No more the
+laughing, thoughtless, happy girl whom we have known, shedding light and
+gaiety on all around her, she had gained, in the increased strength and
+development of her character, much to compensate for the loss. The
+furnace which evaporates the lighter particles of the ore, leaves the
+precious metal in their stead. Thus is it with the trying furnace of
+affliction in the formation of the human character, and such was its
+effect upon Virginia. She no longer thought or felt as a girl. She felt
+that she was a woman, called upon to act a woman's part; and relying on
+her strengthened nature, but more upon the hand whose protection she had
+early learned to seek, she was prepared to act that part. The fate of
+Hansford was unknown to her. She had neither seen nor heard from him
+since that awful night, when she parted from him at the gate of
+Jamestown. Convinced of his high sense of honour, and his heroic daring,
+she knew that he was the last to desert a falling cause, and she
+trembled for his life, should he fall into the hands of the enraged and
+relentless Berkeley. But even if her fears in this respect were
+groundless, the future was still dark to her. The bright dream which she
+had cherished, that he to whom, in the trusting truth of her young
+heart, she had plighted her troth, would share with her the joys and
+hopes of life, was now, alas! dissipated forever. A proscribed rebel, an
+outcast from home, her father's loyal prejudices were such that she
+could never hope to unite her destiny with Hansford. And yet, dreary as
+the future had become, she bore up nobly in the struggle, and, with
+patient submission, resigned her fate to the will of Heaven.
+
+Her chief employment now was to train the mind of the young Mamalis to
+truth, and in this sacred duty she derived new consolation in her
+affliction. The young Indian girl had made Windsor Hall her home since
+the death of her brother. The generous nature of Colonel Temple could
+not refuse to the poor orphan, left alone on earth without a protector,
+a refuge and a home beneath his roof. Nor were the patient and prayerful
+instructions of Virginia without their reward. The light which had long
+been struggling to obtain an entrance to her heart, now burst forth in
+the full effulgence of the truth, and the trusting Mamalis had felt, in
+all its beauty and reality, the assurance of the promise, "Come unto me
+all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Her
+manners, which, with all of her association with Virginia, had something
+of the wildness of the savage, were now softened and subdued. Her
+picturesque but wild costume, which reminded her of her former life, was
+discarded for the more modest dress which the refinement of civilization
+had prescribed. Her fine, expressive countenance, which had often been
+darkened by reflecting the wild passions of her unsubdued heart, was now
+radiant with peaceful joy; and as you gazed upon the softened
+expression, the tranquil and composed bearing of the young girl, you
+might well "take knowledge of her that she had been with Jesus."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+    "Farewell and blessings on thy way,
+      Where'r thou goest, beloved stranger,
+    Better to sit and watch that ray,
+    And think thee safe though far away,
+      Than have thee near me and in danger."
+                                      _Lalla Roohk._
+
+
+Moonlight at Windsor Hall! The waning, January moon shone coldly and
+brightly, as it rose above the dense forest which surrounded the once
+more peaceful home of Colonel Temple. The tall poplars which shaded the
+quiet yard were silvered with its light, and looked like medieval
+knights all clad in burnished and glistening mail. The crisp hoarfrost
+that whitened the frozen ground sparkled in the mellow beams, like
+twinkling stars, descended to earth, and drinking in with rapture the
+clear light of their native heaven. Not a sound was heard save the
+dreary, wintry blast, as it sighed its mournful requiem over the dead
+year, "gone from the earth for ever."
+
+Virginia Temple had not yet retired to rest, although it was growing
+late. She was sitting alone, in her little chamber, and watching the
+glowing embers on the hearth, as they sparkled for a moment, and shed a
+ruddy light around, and then were extinguished, throwing the whole room
+into dark shadow. Sad emblem, these fleeting sparks, of the hopes that
+had once been bright before her, assuming fancied shapes of future joy
+and peace and love, and then dying to leave her sad heart the darker for
+their former presence. In the solitude of her own thoughts she was
+taking a calm review of her past life--her early childhood--when she
+played in innocent mirth beneath the shade of the oaks and poplars that
+still stood unchanged in the yardher first acquaintance with Hansford,
+which opened a new world to her young heart, replete with joys and
+treasures unknown before--all the thrilling events of the last few
+months--her last meeting with her lover, and his prayer that she at
+least would not censure him, when he was gone--her present despondency
+and gloom--all these thoughts came in slow and solemn procession across
+her mind, like dreary ghosts of the buried past.
+
+Suddenly she was startled from her reverie by the sound of a low, sweet,
+familiar voice, beneath her window, and, as she listened, the melancholy
+spirit of the singer sought and found relief in the following tender
+strains:
+
+    "Once more I seek thy quiet home,
+      My tale of love to tell,
+    Once more from danger's field I come,
+      To breathe a last farewell!
+          Though hopes are flown,
+          Though friends are gone;
+    Yet wheresoe'r I flee,
+          I still retain,
+          And hug the chain
+    Which binds my soul to thee.
+
+    "My heart, like some lone chamber left,
+      Must, mouldering, fall at last;
+    Of hope, of love, of thee bereft,
+      It lives but in the past.
+          With jealous care,
+          I cherish there
+    The web, however small,
+          That memory weaves,
+          And mercy leaves,
+      Upon that ruined wall.
+
+    "Though Tyranny, with bloody laws,
+      May dig my early grave,
+    Yet death, when met in Freedom's cause,
+      Is sweetest to the brave;
+          Wedded to her,
+          Without a fear,
+      I'll mount her funeral pile,
+          Welcome the death
+          Which seals my faith,
+      And meet it with a smile.
+
+    "While, like the tides, that softly swell
+      To kiss their mother moon,
+    Thy gentle soul will soar to dwell
+      In visions with mine own;
+          As skies distil
+          The dews that fill
+      The blushing rose at even,
+          So blest above,
+          I'll mourn thy love
+      And weep for thee in heaven."
+
+It needed not the well-known voice of Hansford to assure the weeping
+girl that he was near her. The burden of that sad song, which found an
+echo in her own heart, told her too plainly that it could be only he. It
+was no time for delicate scruples of propriety. She only knew that he
+was near her and in danger. Rising from her chair, and throwing around
+her a shawl to protect her from the chill night air, she hastened to the
+door. In another moment they were in each other's arms.
+
+"Oh, my own Virginia," said Hansford, "this is too, too kind. I had only
+thought to come and breathe a last farewell, and then steal from your
+presence for ever. I felt that it was a privilege to be near you, to
+watch, unseen, the flickering light reflected from your presence. This
+itself had been reward sufficient for the peril I encounter. How sweet
+then to hear once more the accents of your voice, and to feel once more
+the warm beating of your faithful heart."
+
+"And could you think," said Virginia, as she wept upon his shoulder,
+"that knowing you to be in danger, I could fail to see you. Oh,
+Hansford! you little know the truth of woman's love if you can for a
+moment doubt that your misfortune and your peril have made you doubly
+dear."
+
+"Yet how brief must be my stay. The avenger is behind me, and I must
+soon resume my lonely wandering."
+
+"And will you again leave me?" asked Virginia, in a reproachful tone.
+
+"Leave you, dearest, oh, how sweet would be my fate, after all my cares
+and sufferings, if I could but die here. But this must not be. Though I
+trust I know how to meet death as a brave man, yet it is my duty, as a
+good man, to leave no honourable means untried to save my life."
+
+"But your danger cannot be so great, dearest," said Virginia, tenderly.
+"Surely my father--"
+
+"Would feel it his duty," said Hansford, interrupting her, "to deliver
+me up to justice; and feeling it to be such, he would have the moral
+firmness to discharge it. Poor old gentleman! like many of his party,
+his prejudice perverts his true and generous heart. My poor country must
+suffer long before she can overcome the opposition of bigoted loyalty.
+Forgive me for speaking thus of your noble father, Virginia--but
+prejudices like these are the thorns which spring up in his heart and
+choke the true word of freedom, and render it unfruitful. Is it not so,
+dearest?"
+
+"You mistake his generous nature," said Virginia, earnestly. "You
+mistake his love for me. You mistake his sound judgment. You mistake his
+high sense of honour. Think you that he sees no difference between the
+man who, impelled by principle, asserts what he believes to be a right,
+and him, who for his own selfish ends and personal advancement, would
+sacrifice his country. Yes, my dear friend, you mistake my father. He
+will gladly interpose with the Governor and restore you to happiness, to
+freedom, and to--"
+
+She paused, unable to proceed for the sobs that choked her utterance,
+and then gave vent to a flood of passionate grief.
+
+"You would add, 'and to thee,'" said Hansford, finishing the sentence.
+"God knows, my girl, that such a hope would make me dare more peril than
+I have yet encountered. But, alas! if it were even as you say, what
+weight would his remonstrance have with that imperious old tyrant,
+Berkeley? It would be but the thistle-down against the cannon ball in
+the scales of his justice."
+
+"He dare not refuse my father's demands," said Virginia. "One who has
+been so devoted to his cause, who has sacrificed so much for his king,
+and who has afforded shelter and protection to the Governor himself in
+the hour of his peril and need, is surely entitled to this poor favour
+at his hands. He dare not refuse to grant it."
+
+"Alas! Virginia, you little know the character of Sir William Berkeley,
+when you say he dares not. But the very qualities which you claim, and
+justly claim, for your father, would prevent him from exerting that
+influence with the Governor which your hopes whisper would be so
+successful--'His noble nature' would prompt him at any sacrifice to
+yield personal feeling to a sense of public duty. 'His love for you'
+would prompt him to rescue you from the _rebel_ who dared aspire to your
+hand. 'His sound judgment' would dictate the maxim, that it were well
+for one man to die for the people; and his 'high sense of honour' would
+prevent him from interposing between a condemned _traitor_ and his
+deserved doom. Be assured, Virginia, that thus would your father reason;
+and with his views of loyalty and justice, I could not blame him for the
+conclusion to which he came."
+
+"Then in God's name," cried Virginia, in an agony of desperation, for
+she saw the force of Hansford's views, "how can you shun this
+threatening danger? Whither can you fly?"
+
+"My only hope," said Hansford, gloomily, "is to leave the Colony and
+seek refuge in Maryland, though I fear that this is hopeless. If I fail
+in this, then I must lurk in some hiding place until instructions from
+England may arrive, and check the vindictive Berkeley in his ruthless
+cruelty."
+
+"And is there a hope of that!" said Virginia, quickly.
+
+"There is a faint hope, and that slender thread is all that hangs
+between me and a traitor's doom. But I rely with some confidence upon
+the mild and humane policy pursued by Charles toward the enemies of his
+father. At any rate, it is all that is left me, and you know the
+proverb," he added, with a sad smile, "'A drowning man catches at
+straws.' Any chance, however slight, appears larger when seen through
+the gloom of approaching despair, just as any object seems greater when
+seen through a mist."
+
+"It is not, it shall not be slight," said the hopeful girl, "we will lay
+hold upon it with firm and trusting hearts, and it will cheer us in our
+weary way, and then--"
+
+But here the conversation was interrupted by the sound of approaching
+footsteps, and the light, graceful form of Mamalis stood before them.
+The quick ear of the Indian girl had caught the first low notes of
+Hansford's serenade, even while she slept, and listening attentively to
+the sound, she had heard Virginia leave the room and go down stairs.
+Alarmed at her prolonged absence, Mamalis could no longer hesitate on
+the propriety of ascertaining its cause, and hastily dressing herself,
+she ran down to the open door and joined the lovers as we have stated.
+
+"We are discovered," said Hansford, in a surprised but steady voice.
+"Farewell, Virginia." And he was about to rush from the place, when
+Virginia interposed.
+
+"Fear nothing from her," she said. "Her trained ear caught the sounds of
+our voices more quickly than could the duller senses of the European.
+You are in no danger; and her opportune presence suggests a plan for
+your escape."
+
+"What is that?" asked Hansford, anxiously.
+
+"First tell me," said Virginia, "how long it will probably be before the
+milder policy of Charles will arrest the Governor in his vengeance."
+
+"It is impossible to guess with accuracy--if, indeed, it ever should
+come. But the king has heard for some time of the suppression of the
+enterprise, and it can scarcely be more than two weeks before we hear
+from him. But to what does your question tend?"
+
+"Simply this," returned Virginia. "The wigwam of Mamalis is only about
+two miles from the hall, and in so secluded a spot that it is entirely
+unknown to any of the Governor's party. There we can supply your present
+wants, and give you timely warning of any approaching danger. The old
+wigwam is a good deal dilapidated, but then it will at least afford you
+shelter from the weather."
+
+"And from that ruder storm which threatens me," said Hansford, gloomily.
+"You are right. I know the place well, and trust it may be a safe
+retreat, at least for the present. But, alas! how sad is my fate,--to be
+skulking from justice like a detected thief or murderer, afraid to show
+my face to my fellow in the open day, and starting like a frightened
+deer at every approaching sound. Oh, it is too horrible!"
+
+"Think not of it thus," said Virginia, in an encouraging voice.
+"Remember it only as the dull twilight that divides the night from the
+morning. This painful suspense will soon be over; and then, safe and
+happy, we will smile at the dangers we have passed."
+
+"No, Virginia," said Hansford, in the same gloomy voice, "you are too
+hopeful. There is a whispering voice within that tells me that this plan
+will not succeed, and that we cannot avoid the dangers which threaten
+me. No," he cried, throwing off the gloom which hung over him, while his
+fine blue eye flashed with pride. "No! The decree has gone forth! Every
+truth must succeed with blood. If the blood of the martyrs be the seed
+of the Church, it may also enrich the soil where liberty must grow; and
+far rather would I that my blood should be shed in such a cause, than
+that it should creep sluggishly in my veins through a long and useless
+life, until it clotted and stagnated in an ignoble grave."
+
+"Oh, there spoke that fearful pride again," said Virginia, with a deep
+sigh; "the pride that pursues its mad career, unheeding prudence,
+unguided by judgment, until it is at last checked by its own
+destruction. And would you not sacrifice the glory that you speak of,
+for me?"
+
+"You have long since furnished me the answer to that plea, my girl," he
+replied, pressing her tenderly to his heart. "Do you remember, Lucasta,
+
+    'I had not loved thee, dear, so much,
+        Loved I not honour more.'
+
+Believe me, my Virginia, it is an honourable and not a glorious name I
+seek. Without the latter, life still would be happy and blessed when
+adorned by your smiles. Without the former, your smile and your love
+would add bitterness to the cup that dishonour would bid me quaff. And
+now, Virginia, farewell. The night air has chilled you, dearest--then
+go, and remember me in your dreams. One fond kiss, to keep virgined upon
+my lips till we meet again. Farewell, Mamalis--be faithful to your kind
+mistress." And then imprinting one long, last kiss upon the fair cheek
+of the trusting Virginia, he turned from the door, and was soon lost
+from their sight in the dense forest.
+
+Once more in her own little room, Virginia, with a grateful heart, fell
+upon her knees, and poured forth her thanks to Him, who had thus far
+prospered her endeavours to minister to the cares and sorrows of her
+lover. With a calmer heart she sought repose, and wept herself to sleep
+with almost happy tears. Hansford, in the mean time, pursued his quiet
+way through the forest, his pathway sufficiently illumined by the pale
+moonlight, which came trembling through the moaning trees. The thoughts
+of the young rebel were fitfully gloomy or pleasant, as despondency and
+hope alternated in his breast. In that lonely walk he had an opportunity
+to reflect calmly and fully upon his past life. The present was indeed
+clouded with danger, and the future with uncertainty and gloom. Yet, in
+this self-examination, he saw nothing to justify reproach or to awaken
+regret. He scanned his motives, and he felt that they were pure. He
+reviewed his acts, and he saw in them but the struggles of a brave, free
+man in the maintenance of the right. The enterprise in which he had
+engaged had indeed failed, but its want of success did not affect the
+holiness of the design. Even in its failure, he proudly hoped that the
+seeds of truth had been sown in the popular mind, which might hereafter
+germinate and be developed into freedom. As these thoughts passed
+through his mind, a dim dream of the future glories of his country
+flashed across him. The bright heaven of the future seemed to open
+before him, as before the eyes of the dying Stephen--but soon it closed
+again, and all was dark.
+
+The wigwam which he entered, after a walk of about half an hour, was
+desolate enough, but its very loneliness made it a better safeguard
+against the vigilance of his pursuers. He closed the aperture which
+served for the door, with the large mat used for the purpose; then
+carefully priming his pistols, which he kept constantly by him in case
+of surprise, and wrapping his rough horseman's coat around him, he flung
+himself upon a mat in the centre of the wigwam, and sank into a profound
+slumber.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+    "He should be hereabouts. The doubling hare,
+    When flying from the swift pursuit of hounds,
+    Baying loud triumph, leaves her wonted path,
+    And seeks security within her nest."
+                                    _The Captive._
+
+
+On the evening which followed the events narrated in the last chapter, a
+party of half a dozen horsemen might be seen riding leisurely along the
+road which led to Windsor Hall. From their dress and bearing they might
+at once be recognized as military men, and indeed it was a detachment of
+the force sent by Sir William Berkeley in search of such of the rebels
+as might be lurking in different sections of the country. At their head
+was Alfred Bernard, his tall and graceful form well set off by the
+handsome military dress of the period. Dignified by a captaincy of
+dragoons, the young intriguer at last thought himself on the high road
+to success, and his whole course was marked by a zealous determination
+to deserve by his actions the confidence reposed in him. For this his
+temper and his cold, selfish nature eminently fitted him. The vindictive
+Governor had no fear but that his vengeance would be complete, so long
+as Alfred Bernard acted as his agent.
+
+As the party approached the house, Colonel Temple, whose attention was
+arrested by such an unusual appearance in the then peaceful state of the
+country, came out to meet them, and with his usual bland courtesy
+invited them in, at the same time shaking Bernard warmly by the hand.
+The rough English soldiers, obeying the instructions of their host,
+conducted their horses to the stable, while the young captain followed
+his hospitable entertainer into the hall. Around the blazing fire, which
+crackled and roared in the broad hearth, the little family were gathered
+to hear the news.
+
+"Prythee, Captain Bernard, for I must not forget your new title," said
+the colonel, "what is the cause of this demonstration? No further
+trouble with the rebels?"
+
+"No, no," replied Bernard, "except to smoke the cowardly fellows out of
+their holes. In the words of your old bard, we have only scotched the
+snake, not killed it--and we are now seeking to bring the knaves to
+justice."
+
+"And do you find them difficult to catch?" said the Colonel. "Is the
+scotched snake an 'anguis in herba?'"
+
+"Aye, but they cannot escape us. These worshippers of liberty, who would
+fain be martyrs to her cause, shall not elude the vigilance of justice.
+I need not add, that you are not the object of our search, Colonel."
+
+"Scarcely, my lad," returned Temple, with a smile, "for my mythology has
+taught me, that these kindred deities are so nearly allied that the true
+votaries of liberty will ever be pilgrims to the shrine of justice."
+
+"And the pseudo votaries of freedom," continued Bernard, "who would
+divide the sister goddesses, should be offered up as a sacrifice to
+appease the neglected deity."
+
+"Well, maybe so," returned Temple; "but neither religion nor government
+should demand human sacrifices to a great extent. A few of the prominent
+leaders might well be cut off to strike terror into the hearts of the
+rest. Thus the demands of justice would be satisfied, consistently with
+clemency which mercy would dictate."
+
+"My dear sir, a hecatomb would not satisfy Berkeley. I am but his
+minister, and could not, if I would, arrest his arm. Even now I come by
+his express directions to ascertain whether any of the rebels may be
+secreted near your residence. While he does not for a moment suspect
+your loyalty, yet one of the villains, and he among the foremost in the
+rebellion, has been traced in this direction."
+
+"Sir," cried Temple, colouring with honest indignation; "dare you
+suspect that I could harbour a rebel beneath my roof! But remember, that
+I would as lief do that, abhorrent though it be to my principles, as to
+harbour a spy."
+
+"My dear sir," said Bernard, softly, "you mistake me most strangely, if
+you suppose that I could lodge such a suspicion for a moment in my
+heart; nor have I come as a spy upon your privacy, but to seek your
+counsel. Sir William Berkeley is so well convinced of your stern and
+unflinching faith, that he enjoins me to apply to you early for advice
+as to how I should proceed in my duty."
+
+"Well, my dear boy," said Temple, relapsing into good humour, for he was
+not proof against the tempting bait of flattery, "you must pardon the
+haste of an old man, who cannot bear any imputation upon his devotion to
+the cause of his royal master. While I cannot aid you in your search, my
+house is freely open to yourself and your party for such time as you may
+think proper to use it."
+
+"You have my thanks, my dear sir," said Bernard, "and indeed you are
+entitled to the gratitude of the whole government. Sir William Berkeley
+bade me say that he could never forget your kindness to him and his
+little band of fugitives; and Lady Frances often says that she scarcely
+regrets the cares and anxiety attending her flight, since they afforded
+her an opportunity of enjoying the society of Mrs. Temple in her own
+home, where she so especially shines."
+
+"Indeed, we thank them both most cordially," said Mrs. Temple. "It was a
+real pleasure to us to have them, I am sure; and though we hardly had
+time to make them as comfortable as they might have been, yet a poor
+feast, seasoned with a warm welcome, is fit for a king."
+
+"I trust," said Bernard, "that Miss Virginia unites with you in the
+interest which you profess in the cause of loyalty. May I hope, that
+should it ever be our fortune again to be thrown like stranded wrecks
+upon your hospitality, her welcome will not be wanting to our
+happiness."
+
+"It will always give me pleasure," said Virginia, "to welcome the guests
+of my parents, and to add, as far as I can, to their comfort, whoever
+they may be--more particularly when those guests are among my own
+special friends."
+
+"Of which number I am proud to consider myself, though unworthy of such
+an honour," said Bernard. "But excuse me for a few moments, ladies, I
+have somewhat to say to my sergeant before dinner. I will return
+anon--as soon as possible; but you know, Colonel, duty should ever be
+first served, and afterwards pleasure may be indulged. Duty is the prim
+old wife, who must be duly attended to, and then Pleasure, the fair
+young damsel, may claim her share of our devotion. Aye, Colonel?"
+
+"Nay, if you enter the marriage state with such ideas of its duties as
+that," returned the Colonel, smiling, "I rather think you will have a
+troublesome career before you. But your maxim is true, though clothed in
+an allegory a little too licentious. So, away with you, my boy, and
+return as soon as you can, for I have much to ask you."
+
+Released from the restraints imposed by the presence of the Colonel and
+the ladies, Bernard rubbed his hands and chuckled inwardly as he went in
+search of his sergeant.
+
+"I am pretty sure we are on the right scent, Holliday," he said,
+addressing a tall, strapping old soldier of about six feet in height.
+"This prejudiced old steed seemed disposed to kick before he was
+spurred--and, indeed, if he knew nothing himself, there is a pretty
+little hind here, who I'll warrant is not so ignorant of the
+hiding-place of her young hart."
+
+"But I tell you what, Cap'n, it's devilish hard to worm a secret out of
+these women kind. They'll tell any body else's secret, fast enough, but
+d--n me if it don't seem as how they only do that to give more room to
+keep their own."
+
+"Well, we must try at any rate. It is not for you to oppose with your
+impertinent objections what I may choose order. I hope you are soldier
+enough to have learned that it is only your duty to obey."
+
+"Oh! yes, Cap'n. I've learned that lesson long ago--and what's more, I
+learned it on horseback, but, faith, it was one of those wooden steeds
+that made me do all the travelling. Why, Lord bless me, to obey! It's
+one of my ten commandments. I've got it written in stripes that's
+legible on my shoulders now. 'Obey your officers in all things that your
+days may be long and your back unskinned.'"
+
+"Well, stop your intolerable nonsense," said Bernard, "and hear what I
+would say. We stay here to-night. There is an Indian girl who lives
+here, a kind of upper servant. You must manage to see her and talk with
+her. But mind, nothing of our object, or your tongue shall be blistered
+for it. Tell her that I wish to see her, beneath the old oak tree to
+night, at ten o'clock. If she refuses, tell her to 'remember
+Berkenhead.' These words will act as a charm upon her. Remember--Hush,
+here comes the Colonel."
+
+It will be remembered by the reader that the magic of these two words,
+which were to have such an influence upon the young Mamalis, was due to
+the shrewd suspicion of Alfred Bernard, insinuated at the time, that she
+was the assassin of the ill-fated Berkenhead. By holding this simple
+rod, _in terrorem_, over the poor girl, Bernard now saw that he might
+wield immense power over her, and if the secret of Hansford's
+hiding-place had been confided to her, he might easily extort it either
+by arousing her vengeance once more, or in default of that by a menace
+of exposure and punishment for the murder. But first he determined to
+see Virginia, and make his peace with her; and under the plausible
+guise of sympathy in her distress and pity for Hansford, to excite in
+her an interest in his behalf, even while he was plotting the ruin of
+her lover.
+
+With his usual pliancy of manner, and control over his feelings, he
+engaged in conversation with Colonel Temple, humouring the well-known
+prejudices of the old gentleman, and by a little dexterous flattery
+winning over the unsuspicious old lady to his favor. Even Virginia,
+though her heart misgave her from the first that the arrival of Bernard
+boded no good to her lover, was deceived by his plausible manners and
+attracted by his brilliant conversation. So the tempter, with the
+graceful crest, and beautiful colours of the subtle serpent beguiled Eve
+far more effectually, than if in his own shape he had attempted to
+convince her by the most specious sophisms.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+    "Was ever woman in this humour wooed?"
+                                    _Richard III._
+
+
+Dinner being over, the gentlemen remained according to the good old
+custom, to converse over their wine, while Virginia retired to the quiet
+little parlour, and with some favourite old author tried to beguile her
+thoughts from the bitter fears which she felt for the safety of
+Hansford. But it was all in vain. Her eyes often wandered from her book,
+and fixed upon the blazing, hickory fire, she was lost in a painful
+reverie. As she weighed in her mind the many chances in favour of, and
+against his escape, she turned in her trouble to Him, who alone could
+rescue her, and with the tears streaming down her pale cheeks, she
+murmured in bitter accents, "Oh, Lord! in Thee have I trusted, let me
+never be confounded." Even while she spoke, she was surprised to hear
+immediately behind her, the well-known voice of Alfred Bernard, for so
+entirely lost had she been in meditation that she had not heard his step
+as he entered the room.
+
+"Miss Temple, and in tears!" he said, with well assumed surprise. "What
+can have moved you thus, Virginia?"
+
+"Alas! Mr. Bernard, you who have known my history and my troubles for
+the last few bitter months, cannot be ignorant that I have much cause
+for sadness. But," she added, with a faint attempt to smile, "had I
+known of your presence, I would not have sought to entertain you with my
+sorrows."
+
+"The troubles that you speak of are passed, Miss Temple," said Bernard,
+affecting to misunderstand her, "and as the Colony begins to smile again
+in the beams of returning peace, you, fair Virginia, should also smile
+in sympathy with your namesake."
+
+"Mr. Bernard, you must jest. You at least should have known, ere this,
+that my individual sorrows are not so dependent upon the political
+condition of the Colony. You at least should have known, sir, that the
+very peace you boast of may be the knell of hopes more dear to a woman's
+heart than even the glory and welfare of her country."
+
+"Miss Temple," returned Bernard, with a grave voice, "since you are
+determined to treat seriously what I have said, I will change my tone.
+Though you choose to doubt my sincerity, I must express the deep
+sympathy which I feel in your sorrows, even though I know that these
+sorrows are induced by your apprehensions for the fate of a rival."
+
+"And that sympathy, sir, is illustrated by your present actions," said
+Virginia, bitterly. "You would be at the same time the Judean robber
+and the good Samaritan, and while inflicting a deadly wound upon your
+victim, and stripping him of cherished hopes, you would administer the
+oil and wine of your mocking sympathy."
+
+"I might choose to misunderstand your unkind allusions, Miss Temple,"
+replied Bernard, "but there is no need of concealment between us. You
+have rightly judged the object of my mission, but in this I act as the
+officer of government, not as the ungenerous rival of Major Hansford."
+
+"So does the public executioner," replied Virginia, "but I am not aware
+that in its civil and military departments as well as in the navy, our
+government impresses men into her service against their will."
+
+"You seem determined to misunderstand me, Virginia," said Alfred, with
+some warmth; "but you shall learn that I am not capable of the want of
+generosity which you attribute to me. Know then, that it was from a
+desire to serve you personally through your friend, that I urged the
+governor to let me come in pursuit of Major Hansford. Suppose, instead,
+he should fall in the hands of Beverley. Cruel and relentless as that
+officer has already shown himself to be, his prisoner would suffer every
+indignity and persecution, even before he was delivered to the tender
+mercies of Sir William Berkeley--while in me, as his captor, you may
+rest assured that for your sake, he would meet with kindness and
+indulgence, and even my warm mediation with the governor in his behalf."
+
+"Oh, then," cried Virginia, trusting words so softly and plausibly
+spoken, "if you are indeed impelled by a motive so generous and
+disinterested, it is still in your power to save him. Your influence
+with the Governor is known, and one word from your lips might control
+the fate of a brave man, and restore happiness and peace to a
+broken-hearted girl. Oh! would not this amply compensate even for the
+neglect of duty? Would it not be far nobler to secure the happiness of
+two grateful hearts, than to shed the blood of a brave and generous man,
+and to wade through that red stream to success and fame? Believe me, Mr.
+Bernard, when you come to die, the recollection of such an act will be
+sweeter to your soul than all the honour and glory which an admiring
+posterity could heap above your cold, insensate ashes. If I am any thing
+to you; if my happiness would be an object of interest to your heart;
+and if my love, my life-long love, would be worthy of your acceptance,
+they are yours. Forgive the boldness, the freedom with which I have
+spoken. It may be unbecoming in a young girl, but let it be another
+proof of the depth, the sincerity of my feelings, when I can forget a
+maiden's delicacy in the earnestness of my plea."
+
+It was impossible not to be moved with the earnest and touching manner
+of the weeping girl, as with clasped hands and streaming eyes, she
+almost knelt to Bernard in the fervent earnestness of her feelings.
+Machiavellian as he was, and accustomed to disguise his heart, the young
+man was for a moment almost dissuaded from his design. Taking Virginia
+gently by the hand, he begged her to be calm. But the feeling of
+generosity which for a moment gleamed on his heart, like a brief sunbeam
+on a stormy day, gave way to the wonted selfishness with which that
+heart was clouded.
+
+"And can you still cling with such tenacity to a man who has proven
+himself so unworthy of you," he said; "to one who has long since
+sacrificed you to his own fanatical purposes. Even should he escape the
+fate which awaits him, he can never be yours. Your own independence of
+feeling, your father's prejudices, every thing conspires to prevent a
+union so unnatural. Hansford may live, but he can never live to be your
+husband."
+
+"Who empowered you to prohibit thus boldly the bans between us, and to
+dissolve our plighted troth?" said Virginia, with indignation.
+
+"You again mistake me," replied Bernard. "God forbid that I should thus
+intrude upon what surely concerns me not. I only expressed, my dear
+friend, what you know full well, that whatever be the fate of Major
+Hansford, you can never marry him. Why, then, this strange interest in
+his fate?"
+
+"And can you think thus of woman's love? Can you suppose that her heart
+is so selfish that, because her own cherished hopes are blasted, she can
+so soon forget and coldly desert one who has first awakened those sweet
+hopes, and who is now in peril? Believe me, Mr. Bernard, dear as I hold
+that object to my soul, sad and weary as life would be without one who
+had made it so happy, I would freely, aye, almost cheerfully yield his
+love, and be banished for ever from his presence, if I could but save
+his life."
+
+"You are a noble girl," said Alfred, with admiration; "and teach me a
+lesson that too few have learned, that love is never selfish. But, yet,
+I cannot relinquish the sweet reward which you have promised for my
+efforts in behalf of Hansford. Then tell me once more, dear girl, if I
+arrest the hand of justice which now threatens his life; if he be once
+more restored to liberty and security, would you reward his deliverer
+with your love?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" cried the trusting girl, mistaking his meaning; "and more, I
+would pledge his lasting gratitude and affection to his generous
+preserver."
+
+"Nay," said Bernard, rather coldly, "that would not add much inducement
+to me. But you, Virginia," he added, passionately, "would you be
+mine--would the bright dream of my life be indeed realized, and might I
+enshrine you in my faithful heart, as a sacred idol, to whom in hourly
+adoration I might bow?"
+
+"How mean you, sir," exclaimed Virginia, with surprise. "I fear you have
+misunderstood my words. My love, my gratitude, my friendship, I
+promised, but not my heart."
+
+"Then, indeed, am I strangely at fault," said Bernard, with a sneering
+laugh. "The love you would bestow, would be such as you would feel
+towards the humblest boor, who had done you a service; and your
+gratitude but the natural return which any human being would make to the
+dog who saves his life. Nay, mistress mine, not so platonic, if you
+please. Think you that, for so cold a feeling as friendship and
+gratitude, I would rescue this skulking hound from the lash of his
+master, which he so richly deserves, or from the juster doom of the
+craven cur, the rope and gallows. No, Virginia Temple, there is no
+longer any need of mincing matters between us. It is a simple question
+of bargain and sale. You have said that you would renounce the love of
+Hansford to save his life. Very well, one step more and all is
+accomplished. The boon I ask, as the reward of my services, is your
+heart, or at least your hand. Yield but this, and I will arrest the
+malice of that doting old knight, who, with his fantastic tricks, has
+made the angels laugh instead of weep. Deny me, and by my troth, Thomas
+Hansford meets a traitor's doom."
+
+So complete was the revulsion of feeling from the almost certainty of
+success, to the despair and indignation induced by so base a
+proposition, that it was some moments before Virginia Temple could
+speak. Bernard mistaking the cause of her silence, deemed that she was
+hesitating as to her course, and pursuing his supposed advantage, he
+added, tenderly,--"Cheer, up Virginia; cheer up, my bride. I read in
+those silent tears your answer. I know the struggle is hard, and I love
+you the more that it is so. It is an earnest of your future constancy.
+In a short time the trial will be over, and we will learn to forget our
+sorrows in our love. He who is so unworthy of you will have sought in
+some distant land solace for your loss, which will be easily attained by
+his pliant nature. A traitor to his country, will not long mourn the
+loss of his bride."
+
+"'Tis thou who art the traitor, dissembling hypocrite," cried Virginia,
+vehemently. "Think you that my silence arose from a moment's
+consideration of your base proposition? I was stunned at beholding such
+a monster in the human form. But I defy you yet. The governor shall
+learn how the fawning favourite of his palace, tears the hand that feeds
+him--and those who can protect me from your power, shall chastise your
+insolence. Instead of the love and gratitude I promised, there, take my
+lasting hate and scorn."
+
+And the young girl proudly rising erect as she spoke, her eyes flashing,
+but tearless, her bosom heaving with indignation, her nostrils dilated,
+and her hand extended in bitter contempt towards the astonished Bernard,
+shouted, "Father, father!" until the hall rung with the sound.
+
+Happily for Alfred Bernard, Colonel Temple and his wife had left the
+house for a few moments, on a visit to old Giles' cabin, the old man
+having been laid up with a violent attack of the rheumatics. The wily
+intriguer was for once caught in his own springe. He had overacted his
+part, and had grossly mistaken the character of the brave young girl,
+whom he had so basely insulted. He felt that if he lost a moment, the
+house would be alarmed, and his miserable hypocrisy exposed. Rushing to
+Virginia, he whispered, in an agitated voice, which he failed to control
+with his usual self-command,
+
+"For God's sake, be silent. I acknowledge I have done wrong; but I will
+explain. Remember Hansford's life is in your hands. Come, now, dear
+Virginia, sit you down, I will save him."
+
+The proud expression of scorn died away from the curled lips of the
+girl, and interest in her lover's fate again took entire possession of
+her heart. She paused and listened. The wily Jesuit had again conquered,
+and He who rules the universe with such mysterious justice, had
+permitted evil once more to triumph over innocence.
+
+"Yes," repeated Bernard, regaining his composure with his success; "I
+will save him. I mistook your character, Miss Temple. I had thought you
+the simple-hearted girl, who for the sake of her lover's life would sell
+her heart to his preserver. I now recognize in you the high-spirited
+woman, who, conscious of right, would meet her own despair in its
+defence. Alas! in thus losing you for ever, I have just found you
+possessed of qualities which make you doubly worthy to be won. But I
+resign you to him whom you have chosen, and in my admiration for the
+woman, I have almost lost my hatred for the man. For your sake, Miss
+Temple, Major Hansford shall not want my warm interposition with the
+Governor in his behalf. Let my reward be your esteem or your contempt,
+it is still my duty thus to atone for the wound which I have
+unfortunately inflicted on your feelings. You will excuse and respect my
+wish to end this painful interview."
+
+And so he left the room, and Virginia once more alone, gave vent to her
+emotions so long suppressed, in a flood of bitter tears.
+
+"Well, Holliday," said Bernard, as he met that worthy in the hall, "I
+hope you have been more fortunate with the red heifer than I with the
+white hind--what says Mamalis?"
+
+"The fact is, Cap'n, that same heifer is about as troublesome a three
+year old as I ever had the breaking on. She seemed bent on hooking me."
+
+"Did you not make use of the talisman I told you of?" asked Bernard.
+
+"Well, I don't know what you call a tell-us-man," said Holliday, "but I
+told her that you said she must remember Backinhead, and I'll warrant
+it was tell-us-woman soon enough. Bless me, if she didn't most turn
+white, for all her red skin, and she got the trimbles so that I began to
+think she was going to have the high-strikes--and so says she at last;
+says she, in kind of choking voice like, 'Well, tell him I will meet him
+under the oak tree, as he wishes.'"
+
+"Very well," said Bernard, "we will succeed yet, and then your hundred
+pounds are made--my share is yours already if you be but faithful to
+me--I am convinced he has been here," he continued, musing, and half
+unconscious of Holliday's presence. "The hopeful interest that Virginia
+feels, her knowledge of the fact that he still lives and is at large,
+and the apprehensions which mingle with her hopes, all convince me that
+I'm on the right track. Well, I'll spoil a pretty love affair yet,
+before it approaches its consummation. Fine girl, too, and a pity to
+victimize her. Bless me, how majestic she looked; with what a queen-like
+scorn she treated me, the cold, insensate intriguer, as they call me. I
+begin to love her almost as much as I love her land--but, beware, Alfred
+Bernard, love might betray you. My game is a bold and desperate one, but
+the stake for which I play repays the risk. By God, I'll have her yet;
+she shall learn to bow her proud head, and to love me too--and then the
+fair fields of Windsor Hall will not be less fertile for the price which
+I pay for them in a rival's blood--and such a rival. He scorned and
+defied me when the overtures of peace were extended to him; let him look
+to it, that in rejecting the olive, he has not planted the cypress in
+its stead. Thus revenge is united with policy in the attainment of my
+object, and--What are you staring at, you gaping idiot?" he cried,
+seeing the big, pewter coloured eyes of Holliday fixed upon him in mute
+astonishment.
+
+"Why, Cap'n, damme if I don't believe you are talking in your sleep with
+your eyes open."
+
+"And what did you hear me say, knave?"
+
+"Oh, nothing that will ever go the farther for my hearing it. It's all
+one to me whether you're working for your country or yourself in this
+matter, so long as my pretty pounds are none the less heavy and safe."
+
+"I'm working for both, you fool," returned Bernard. "Did you ever know a
+general or a patriot who did not seek to serve himself as well as his
+country?"
+
+"Well, no," retorted the soldier, "for what the world calls honour, and
+what the rough soldier calls money, is at last only different kinds of
+coin of the same metal."
+
+"Well, hush your impudence," said Bernard, "and mind, not a word of what
+you have heard, or you shall feel my power as well as others. In the
+meantime, here is a golden key to lock your lips," and he handed the
+fellow a sovereign, which he greedily accepted.
+
+"Thank you, Cap'n," said Holliday, touching his hat and pocketing the
+money; "you need not be afraid of me, for I've seen tricks in my time
+worth two of that. And for the matter of taking this yellow boy, which
+might look to some like hush-money, the only difference between the
+patriot and me is, that he gets paid for opening his mouth, and I for
+keeping mine shut."
+
+"You are a saucy knave," said Bernard, reassured by the fellow's manner;
+"and I'll warrant you never served under old Noll's Puritan standard.
+But away with you, and remember to be in place at ten o'clock to-night,
+and come to me at this signal," and he gave a shrill whistle, which
+Holliday promised to understand and obey.
+
+And so they separated, Bernard to while away the tedious hours, by
+conversing with the old Colonel, and by endeavouring to reinstate
+himself in the good opinion of Virginia, while Holliday repaired to the
+kitchen, where, in company with his comrades and the white servants of
+the hall, he emptied about a half gallon of brown October ale.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+        "He sat her on a milk-white steed,
+          And himself upon a grey;
+        He never turned his face again,
+          But he bore her quite away."
+                  _The Knight of the Burning Pestle._
+
+    "Oh, woe is me for Gerrard! I have brought
+    Confusion on the noblest gentleman
+    That ever truly loved."
+                                _The Triumph of Love._
+
+
+The night, though only starry, was scarce less lovely for the absence of
+the moon. So bright indeed was the milky way, the white girdle, with
+which the night adorns her azure robe, that you might almost imagine the
+moon had not disappeared, but only melted and diffused itself in the
+milder radiance of that fair circlet.
+
+As was always the custom in the country, the family had retired at an
+early hour, and Bernard quietly left the house to fulfil his engagement
+with Mamalis. They stood, he and the Indian girl, beneath the shade of
+the old oak, so often mentioned in the preceding pages. With his
+handsome Spanish cloak of dark velvet plush, thrown gracefully over his
+shoulders, his hat looped up and fastened in front with a gold button,
+after the manner of the times, Alfred Bernard stood with folded arms,
+irresolute as to how he should commence a conversation so important, and
+requiring such delicate address. Mamalis stood before him, with that air
+of nameless but matchless grace so peculiar to those, who unconstrained
+by the arts and affectations of society, assume the attitude of ease and
+beauty which nature can alone suggest. She watched him with a look of
+eagerness, anxious on her part for the silence to be broken, that she
+might learn the meaning and the object of this strange interview.
+
+Alfred Bernard was too skillful an intriguer to broach abruptly the
+subject which, most absorbed his thoughts, and which had made him seek
+this interview, and when at last he spoke, Mamalis was at a loss to
+guess what there was in the commonplaces which he used, that could be of
+interest to him. But the wily hypocrite led her on step by step, until
+gradually and almost unconsciously to herself he had fully developed his
+wishes.
+
+"You live here altogether, now, do you not?" he asked, kindly.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are they kind to you?"
+
+"Oh yes, they are kind to all."
+
+"And you are happy?"
+
+"Yes, as happy as those can be who are left alone on earth."
+
+"What! are there none of your family now living?"
+
+"No, no!" she replied, bitterly; "the blood of Powhatan now runs in this
+narrow channel," and she held out her graceful arms, as she spoke, with
+an expressive gesture.
+
+"Alas! I pity you," said Bernard, sighing. "We are alike in this--for my
+blood is reduced to as narrow a channel as your own. But your family was
+very numerous?"
+
+"Yes, numerous as those stars--and bright and beautiful as they."
+
+"Judging from the only Pleiad that remains," thought Bernard, "you may
+well say so--and can you," he added, aloud, "forgive those who have thus
+injured you?"
+
+"Forgive, oh yes, or how shall I be forgiven! Look at those stars! They
+shine the glory of the night. They vanish before the sun of the morning.
+So faded my people before the arms of the white man--and yet I can
+freely forgive them all!"
+
+"What, even those who have quenched those stars!" said Bernard, with a
+sinister meaning in his tone.
+
+"You mistake," replied Mamalis, touchingly. "They are not quenched. The
+stars we see to-night, though unseen on the morrow, are still in
+heaven."
+
+"Nay, Mamalis," said Bernard, "the creed of your fathers taught not
+thus. I thought the Indian maxim was that blood alone could wipe out the
+stain of blood."
+
+"I love the Christian lesson better," said Mamalis, softly. "And you,
+Mr. Bernard, should not try to shake my new born faith. 'Love your
+enemies--bless them that curse you--pray for them that despitefully use
+you and persecute you--that you may be the children of your Father which
+is in heaven.' The orphan girl on earth would love to be the child of
+her father in heaven."
+
+The sweet simplicity with which the poor girl thus referred to the
+precepts and promises of her new religion, derived more touching beauty
+from the broken English with which she expressed them. An attempt to
+describe her manner and accent would be futile, and would detract from
+the simple dignity and sweetness with which she uttered the words. We
+leave the reader from his own imagination to fill up the picture which
+we can only draw in outline. Bernard saw and felt the power of religion
+in the heart of this poor savage, and he hesitated what course he should
+pursue. He knew that her strongest feeling in life had been her
+affection for her brother. That had been the chord which earliest
+vibrated in her heart, and which as her heart expanded only increased in
+tension that added greater sweetness to its tone. It was on this broken
+string, so rudely snapped asunder, that he resolved to play--hoping thus
+to strike some harsh and discordant notes in her gentle heart.
+
+"You had a brother, Mamalis," he said, abruptly; "the voice of your
+brother's blood calls to you from the ground."
+
+"My brother!" shrieked the girl, startled by the suddenness of the
+allusion.
+
+"Aye, your murdered brother," said Bernard, marking with pleasure the
+effect he had produced, "and it is in your power to avenge his death.
+Dare you do it?"
+
+"Oh, my brother, my poor lost brother," she sobbed, the stoical
+indifference of the savage, pressed out by the crushed heart of the
+sister, "if by this hand thy death could be avenged."
+
+"By your hand he can be avenged," said Bernard, seeing her pause. "It
+has not yet been done. That stupid knave, in a moment of vanity, claimed
+for himself the praise of having murdered a chieftain, but the brave
+Manteo fell by more noble hands than his."
+
+"In God's name, who do you mean?" asked Mamalis.
+
+"I can only tell you that it is now in your power to surrender his
+murderer to justice, and to his deserved fate."
+
+Mamalis was silent. She guessed that it was Hansford to whom Bernard had
+thus vaguely alluded. The struggle seemed to be a desperate one. There
+in the clear starlight, with none to help, save Him, in whom she had
+learned to trust, she wrestled with the tempter. But that dark scene of
+her life, which still threw its shadow on her redeemed heart, again rose
+up before her memory. The lesson was a blessed one. How often thus does
+the recollection of a former sin guard the soul from error in the
+future. Surely, in this, too, God has made the wrath of man to praise
+him. With the aid thus given from on high, the trusting soul of Mamalis
+triumphed over temptation.
+
+"I know not why you tempt me thus, Mr. Bernard," she said, more calmly,
+"nor why you have brought me here to-night. But this I know, that I
+have learned that vengeance belongs to God. It were a crime for mortal
+man, frail at best, to usurp the right of God. My brother is already
+fearfully avenged."
+
+Twice beaten in his attempt to besiege the strong heart of the poor
+Indian, by stratagem, the wily Bernard determined to pursue a more
+determined course, and to take the resisting citadel by a coup d'etat.
+He argued, and argued rightly, that a sudden charge would surprise her
+into betraying a knowledge of Hansford's movements. No sooner,
+therefore, had the last words fallen from her lips, than he seized her
+roughly by the arm, and exclaimed,
+
+"So you, then, with all your religious cant, are the murderess of Thomas
+Hansford!"
+
+"The murderess! Of Hansford! Is he then dead," cried the girl,
+bewildered by the sudden charge, "How did they find him?"
+
+"Find him!" cried Bernard, triumphantly, "It is easy finding what we
+hide ourselves. We have proven that you alone are aware of his hiding
+place, and you alone, therefore, are responsible for his safety. It was
+for this confession that I brought you here to-night."
+
+"So help me Heaven," said the trembling girl, terrified by the web thus
+woven around her, "If he be dead, I am innocent of his death."
+
+"The assassin of Berkenhead may well be the murderess of Hansford," said
+Bernard. "It is easier to deny than to prove. Come, my mistress, tell me
+when you saw him."
+
+"Oh, but this morning, safe and well," said Mamalis. "Indeed, my hand is
+guiltless of his blood."
+
+"Prove it, then, if you can," returned Bernard. "You must know our
+English law presumes him guilty, who is last with the murdered person,
+unless he can prove his innocence. Show me Hansford alive, and you are
+safe. If I do not see him by sunrise, you go with me to answer for his
+death, and to learn that your accursed race is not the only people who
+demand blood for blood."
+
+Overawed by his threats, and his stern manner, so different from the
+mild and respectful tone in which he had hitherto addressed her, Mamalis
+sank upon the ground in an agony of alarm. Bernard disregarded her meek
+and silent appeal for mercy, and sternly menaced her when she attempted
+to scream for assistance.
+
+"Hush your savage shrieking, you bitch, or you'll wake the house; and
+then, by God, I'll choke you before your time. I tell you, if the man is
+alive, you need fear no danger; and if he be dead, you have only saved
+the sheriff a piece of dirty work, or may be have given him another
+victim."
+
+"For God's sake, do me no harm," cried Mamalis, imploringly. "I am
+innocent--indeed I am. Think you that I would hurt a hair of the head of
+that man whom Virginia Temple loves?"
+
+This last remark was by no means calculated to make her peace with
+Bernard; but his only reply was by the shrill whistle which had been
+agreed upon as a signal between Holliday and himself. True to his
+promise, and obedient to the command of his superior, the soldier made
+his appearance on the scene of action with a promptitude that could only
+be explained by the fact that he had concealed himself behind a corner
+of the house, and had heard every word of the conversation. Too much
+excited to be suspicious, Bernard did not remark on his punctuality, but
+said, in a low voice:
+
+"Go wake Thompson, saddle the horses, and let's be off. We have work
+before us. Go!" And Holliday, with habitual obedience, retired to
+execute the order.
+
+"And now," said Bernard, in an encouraging tone, to Mamalis, "you must
+go with me. But you have nothing to fear, if Hansford be alive. If,
+however, my suspicions be true, and he has been murdered by your hand, I
+will still be your friend, if you be but faithful."
+
+The horses were quickly brought, and Bernard, half leading, half
+carrying the poor, weeping, trembling maiden, mounted his own powerful
+charger, and placed her behind him. The order of march was soon given,
+and the heavy sound of the horses' feet was heard upon the hard, crisp,
+frozen ground. Mamalis, seeing her fate inevitable, whatever it might
+be, awaited it patiently and without a murmur. Never suspecting the true
+motive of Bernard, and fully believing that he was _bona fide_ engaged
+in searching for the perpetrators of some foul deed, she readily
+consented, for her own defence, to conduct the party to the hiding place
+of the hapless Hansford. Surprised and shocked beyond measure at the
+intelligence of his fate, she almost forgot her own situation in her
+concern for him, and was happy in aiding to bring to justice those who,
+as she feared, had murdered him. She was surprised, indeed, that she had
+heard nothing of the circumstance from Virginia, as she would surely
+have done, had Bernard mentioned it to the family. But in her ignorance
+of the rules of civilized life, she attributed this to the forms of
+procedure, to the necessity for secrecy--to anything rather than the
+true cause. Nor could she help hoping that there might be still some
+mistake, and that Hansford would be found alive and well, thus
+establishing her own innocence, and ending the pursuit.
+
+Arrived nearly at the wigwam, she mentioned the fact to Bernard, who in
+a low voice commanded a halt, and dismounting with his men, he directed
+Mamalis to guide them the remaining distance on foot. Leaving Thompson
+in charge of the horses, until he might be called to their assistance,
+Bernard and Holliday silently followed the unsuspecting Indian girl
+along the narrow path. A short distance ahead, they could discern the
+faint smoke, as it curled through the opening at the top of the wigwam
+and floated towards the sky. This indication rendered it probable that
+the object of their search was still watching, and thus warned them to
+greater caution in their approach. Bernard's heart beat thick and loud,
+and his cheek blanched with excitement, as he thus drew near the lurking
+place of his enemy. He shook Holliday by the arm with impatient anger,
+as the heavy-footed soldier jarred the silence by the crackling of
+fallen leaves and branches. And now they are almost there, and Mamalis,
+whose excitement was also intense, still in advance, saw through a
+crevice in the door the kneeling form of the noble insurgent, as he
+bowed himself by that lonely fire, and committed his weary soul to God.
+
+"He is here! he lives!" she shouted. "I knew that he was safe!" and the
+startled forest rang with the echoes of her voice.
+
+"The murder is out," cried Bernard, as followed by Holliday, he rushed
+forward to the door, which had been thrown open by their guide; but ere
+he gained his entrance, the sharp report of a pistol was heard, and the
+beautiful, the trusting Mamalis fell prostrate on the floor, a bleeding
+martyr to her constancy and faith. Hansford, roused by the sudden sound
+of her voice, had seized the pistol which, sleeping and waking, was by
+his side, and hearing the voice of Bernard, he had fired. Had the ball
+taken effect upon either of the men, he might yet have been saved, for
+in an encounter with a single man he would have proved a formidable
+adversary. But inscrutable are His ways, whose thoughts are not as our
+thoughts, and all that the puzzled soul can do, is humbly to rely on the
+hope that
+
+    "God is his own interpreter,
+    And he will make it plain."
+
+And she, the last of her dispersed and ruined lineage, is gone. In the
+lone forest, where the wintry blast swept unobstructed, the giant trees
+moaned sadly and fitfully over their bleeding child; and the bright
+stars, that saw the heavy deed, wept from their place in heaven, and
+bathed her lovely form in night's pure dews. She did not long remain
+unburied in that forest, for when Virginia heard the story of her faith
+and loyalty from the rude lips of Holliday, the pure form of the Indian
+girl, still fresh and free from the polluting touch of the destroyer,
+was borne to her own home, and followed with due rites and fervent grief
+to the quiet tomb. In after days, when her sad heart loved to dwell upon
+these early scenes, Virginia placed above the sacred ashes of her friend
+a simple marble tablet, long since itself a ruin; and there, engraven
+with the record of her faith, her loyalty and her love, was the sweet
+assurance, that in her almost latest words, the trusting Indian girl had
+indeed become one of "the children of her Father which is in Heaven."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+    "Let some of the guard be ready there.
+                                    For me?
+    Must I go like a traitor thither?"
+                                      _Henry VIII._
+
+
+The reader need not be told that Hansford, surprised and unarmed, for
+his remaining pistol was not at hand, and his sword had been laid aside
+for the night, was no match for the two powerful men who now rushed upon
+him. To pinion his arms closely behind him, was the work of a moment,
+and further resistance was impossible. Seeing that all hope of
+successful defence was gone, Hansford maintained in his bearing the
+resolute fortitude and firmness which can support a brave man in
+misfortune, when active courage is no longer of avail.
+
+"I suppose, I need not ask Mr. Bernard," he said, "by what authority he
+acts--and yet I would be glad to learn for what offence I am arrested."
+
+"The memory of your former acts should teach you," returned Bernard,
+coarsely, "that your offence is reckoned among the best commentators of
+the law as high treason."
+
+"A grievous crime, truly," replied Hansford, "but one of which I am
+happily innocent, unless, indeed, a skirmish with the hostile Indians
+should be reckoned as such, or Sir William Berkeley should be
+presumptuous enough to claim to be a king; in which latter case, he
+himself would be the traitor."
+
+"He is at least the deputy of the king," said Bernard, haughtily, "and
+in his person the majesty of the king has been assailed."
+
+"Unfortunately, for your reasoning," replied Hansford, "the term for
+which Berkeley was appointed governor has expired some years since."
+
+"That miserable subterfuge will scarcely avail, since you tacitly
+acknowledged his authority by acting under his commission. But I have no
+time to be discussing with you on the nature of your offence, of which,
+at least, I am not the judge. I will only add, that conscious innocence
+is not found skulking in dark forests, and obscure hiding places. Call
+Thompson, with the horses, Holliday. It is time we were off."
+
+"One word, before we leave," said Hansford, sadly. "My pistol ball took
+effect, I know; who is its victim?"
+
+"A poor Indian girl, who conducted us to your fastness," said Bernard.
+"I had forgotten her myself, till now. Look, Holliday, does she still
+live?"
+
+"Dead as a herring, your honour," said the man, as he bent over the
+body, with deep feeling, for, though accustomed to the flow of blood,
+he had taken a lively interest in the poor girl, from what he had seen
+and overheard. "And by God, Cap'n, begging your honour's pardon, a brave
+girl she was, too, although she was an Injin."
+
+"Poor Mamalis," said Hansford, tenderly, "you have met with an early and
+a sad fate. I little thought that she would betray me."
+
+"Nay, wrong not the dead," interposed Bernard, "I assure you, she knew
+nothing of the object of our coming. But all's fair in war, Major, and a
+little intrigue was necessary to track you to this obscure hold."
+
+"Well, farewell, poor luckless maiden! And so I've killed my friend,"
+said Hansford, sorrowfully. "Alas! Mr. Bernard, my arm has been felt in
+battle, and has sent death to many a foe. But, God forgive me! this is
+the first blood I have ever spilt, except in battle, and this, too,
+flows from a woman."
+
+"Think not of it thus," said Bernard, whose hard nature could not but be
+touched by this display of unselfish grief on the part of his prisoner.
+"It was but an accident, and should not rest heavily on your soul. Stay,
+Holliday, I would not have the poor girl rot here, either. Suppose you
+take the body to Windsor Hall, where it will be treated with due
+respect. Thompson and myself can, meantime, attend the prisoner."
+
+"Look ye, Cap'n," said Holliday, with the superstition peculiar to
+vulgar minds; "'taint that I'm afeard exactly neither, but its a mighty
+dissolute feeling being alone in a dark night with a corp. I'd rather
+kill fifty men, than to stay by myself five minutes, with the smallest
+of the fifty after he was killed."
+
+"Well, then, you foolish fellow, go to the hall to-night and inform them
+of her death, and excuse me to Colonel Temple for my abrupt departure,
+and meet me with the rest of the men at Tindal's Point as soon as
+possible. I will bide there for you. But first help me to take the poor
+girl's body into the wigwam. I suppose she will rest quietly enough here
+till morning. Major Hansford," he added, courteously, "our horses are
+ready I perceive. You can take Holliday's there. He can provide himself
+with another at the hall. Shall we ride, sir?"
+
+With a sad heart the captive-bound Hansford mounted with difficulty the
+horse prepared for him, which was led by Thompson, while Bernard rode by
+his side, and with more of courtesy than could be expected from him,
+endeavoured to beguile the way with conversation with his prisoner.
+
+Meanwhile Holliday, whistling for company, and ever and anon looking
+behind him warily, to see whether the disembodied Mamalis was following
+him, bent his steps towards the hall, to communicate to the unsuspecting
+Virginia the heavy tidings of her lover's capture. The rough soldier,
+although his nature had been blunted by long service and familiarity
+with scenes of distress, was not without some feelings, and showed even
+in his rude, uncultivated manners, the sympathy and tenderness which was
+wanting in the more polished but harder heart of Alfred Bernard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+                            "Go to Lord Angelo,
+    And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,
+    Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,
+    All their petitions are as freely theirs,
+    As they themselves would owe them."
+                                _Measure for Measure._
+
+
+It were impossible to describe the silent agony of Virginia Temple, when
+she learned from Holliday, on the following morning, the capture of
+Hansford. She felt that it was the wreck of all her hopes, and that the
+last thread which still hung between her and despair was snapped. But
+even in that dark hour, her strength of mind, and her firmness of
+purpose forsook her not. There was still a duty for her to perform in
+endeavouring to procure his pardon, and she entertained, with the
+trusting confidence of her young heart, the strong hope that Berkeley
+would grant her request. On this sacred errand she determined to go at
+once. Although she did not dream of the full extent of Bernard's
+hypocrisy, yet all his efforts had been unavailing to restore full
+confidence in his sincerity. She dared not trust a matter of such
+importance to another, especially when she had reason to suspect that
+that other was far from being friendly in his feelings towards her
+lover. Once determined on her course, she lost no time in informing her
+parents of her resolution; and so, when they were all seated around the
+breakfast-table, she said quietly, but firmly--
+
+"I am going to Accomac to-day, father."
+
+"To where!" cried her mother; "why surely, child, you must be out of
+your senses."
+
+"No, dearest mother, my calmness is not an indication of insanity. If I
+should neglect this sacred duty, you might then indeed tremble for my
+reason."
+
+"What in the world are you thinking of, Jeanie!" said her father, in his
+turn surprised at this sudden resolution; "what duties can call you to
+Accomac?"
+
+"I go to save life," replied Virginia. "Can you wonder, my father, that
+when I see all that I hold dearest in life just trembling on the verge
+of destruction, I should desire to do all in my power to save it."
+
+"You are right, my child," replied her father, tenderly; "if it were
+possible for you to accomplish any good. But what can you do to rescue
+Hansford from the hand of justice?"
+
+"Of justice!" said Virginia, "and can you unite with those, my dear
+father, who profane the name of justice by applying it to the relentless
+cruelty with which blind vengeance pursues its victims?"
+
+"Ah, Jeanie!" said her father, smiling, as he pressed her hand tenderly;
+"you should remember, in language of the quaint old satirist, Butler,
+
+    'No thief e'er felt the halter draw,
+    With good opinion of the law;'
+
+and although I would not apply the bitter couplet to my little Jeanie in
+its full force, yet she must own that her interest in its present
+application, prevents her from being a very competent judge of its
+propriety and justice."
+
+"But surely, dear father, you cannot think that these violent measures
+against the unhappy parties to the late rebellion, are either just or
+politic?"
+
+"I grant, my child, that to my own mind, a far more humane policy might
+be pursued consistent with the ends of justice. To inspire terror in a
+subject is not the surest means to secure his allegiance or his love for
+government. I am sure, if you were afraid of your old father, and
+always in dread of his wrath and authority, you would not love him as
+you do, Jeanie--and government is at last nothing but a larger family."
+
+"Well, then," returned the artless girl, "why should I not go to Sir
+William Berkeley, and represent to him the harshness of his course, and
+the propriety of tempering his revenge with mercy?"
+
+"First, my daughter, because I have only expressed my private opinion,
+which would have but little weight with the Governor, or any one else
+but you and mother, there. Remember that we are neither the framers nor
+the administrators of the law. And then you would make but a poor
+mediator, my darling, if you were to attempt to dissuade the Governor
+from his policy, by charging him with cruelty and injustice. Think no
+more of this wild idea, my dear child. It can do no good, and reflects
+more credit on your warm, generous heart, than on your understanding or
+experience."
+
+"Hinder me not, my father," said Virginia, earnestly, her blue eyes
+filling with tears. "I can but fail, and if you would save me from the
+bitterness of self-reproach hereafter, let me go. Oh, think how it would
+add bitterness to the cup of grief, if, when closing the eyes of a dead
+friend, we should think that we had left some remedy untried which might
+have saved his life! If I fail, it will at least be some consolation,
+even in despair, that I did all that I could to avert his fate; and if I
+succeed--oh! how transporting the thought that the life of one I love
+had been spared through my interposition. Then hinder me not, father,
+mother--if you would not destroy your daughter's peace forever, oh, let
+me go!"
+
+The solemn earnestness with which the poor girl thus urged her parents
+to grant her request, deeply affected them both; and the old lady,
+forgetting in her love for her daughter the indelicacy and impropriety
+of her plan, volunteered her very efficient advocacy of Virginia's
+cause.
+
+"Indeed, Colonel Temple," she said, "you should not oppose Virginia in
+this matter. You will have enough to reproach yourself for, if by your
+means you should prevent her from doing what she thinks best. And,
+indeed, I like to see a young girl show so much spirit and interest in
+her lover's fate. It is seldom you see such things now-a-days, though it
+used to be common enough in England. Now, just put it to yourself."
+
+The Colonel accordingly did "put it to himself," and, charmed with his
+daughter's affection and heroism, concluded himself to accompany her to
+Accomac, and exert his own influence with the Governor in procuring the
+pardon of the unhappy Hansford.
+
+"Now that's as it should be," said the old lady, gratified at this
+renewed assurance of her ascendency over her husband. "And now,
+Virginia, cheer up. All will be right, my dear, for your father has
+great influence with the Governor--and, indeed, well he might have, for
+he has received kindness enough at our hands in times past. I should
+like to see him refuse your father a favour. And I will write a note to
+Lady Frances myself, for all the world knows that she is governor and
+all with her husband."
+
+"Ladies generally are," said the Colonel, with a smile, which however
+could not disguise the sincerity with which he uttered the sentiment.
+
+"Oh, no, not at all," retorted the old lady, bridling up. "You are
+always throwing up your obedience to me, and yet, after all said and
+done, you have your own way pretty much, too. But you are not decent to
+go anywhere. Do, pray, Colonel Temple, pay more respect to society, and
+fix yourself up a little. Put on your blue coat and your black stock,
+and dress your hair, and shave, and look genteel for once in your life."
+Then, seeing by the patient shrug of her good old husband that she had
+wounded his feelings, she patted him tenderly on the shoulder, and
+added, "You know I always love to see you nice and spruce, and when you
+do attend to your dress, and fix up, I know of none of them that are
+equal to you. Do you, Virginia?"
+
+Before the good Colonel had fully complied with all the toilet
+requisitions of his wife, the carriage was ready to take the travellers
+to Tindal's Point, where there was luckily a small sloop, just under
+weigh for Accomac. And Virginia, painfully alternating between hope and
+fear, but sustained by a consciousness of duty, was borne away across
+the broad Chesapeake, on her pious pilgrimage, to move by her tears and
+prayers the vindictive heart of the stern old Governor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV.
+
+     "Why, there's an end then! I have judged deliberately, and the
+     result is death."                        _The Gamester._
+
+
+
+Situated, as nearly as might be, in the centre of each of the counties
+of Virginia, was a small settlement, which, although it aspired to the
+dignity of a town, could scarcely deserve the name. For the most part,
+these little country towns, as they were called, were composed of about
+four houses, to wit: The court house, dedicated to justice, where sat,
+monthly, the magistrates of the county, possessed of an unlimited
+jurisdiction in all cases cognizable in law or chancery, not touching
+life or murder, and having the care of orphans' persons and estates; the
+jail, wherein prisoners committed for any felony were confined, until
+they could be brought before the general court, which had the sole
+criminal jurisdiction in the colony; the tavern, a long, low wooden
+building, generally thronged with loafers and gossips, and reeking with
+the fumes of tobacco smoke, apple-brandy and rye-whiskey; and, finally,
+the store, which shared, with the tavern, the patronage of the loafers,
+and which could be easily recognized by the roughly painted board sign,
+containing a catalogue of the goods within, arranged in alphabetical
+order, without reference to any other classification. Thus the
+substantial farmer, in search of a pound of _candy_ for his little white
+headed barbarians, whom he had left at play, must needs pass his finger
+over "cards, chains, calico, cowhides, and candy;" or, if he had come to
+"town" to purchase a bushel of meal for family use, his eye was greeted
+with the list of M's, containing meal, mustard, mousetraps, and
+molasses.
+
+It was to the little court house town of the county of Accomac, that Sir
+William Berkeley had retired after the burning of Jamestown; and here he
+remained, since the suppression of the rebellion, like a cruel old
+spider, in the centre of his web, awaiting, with grim satisfaction, the
+capture of such of the unwary fugitives as might fall into his power.
+
+"Well, gentlemen, the court martial is set," said Sir William Berkeley,
+as he gazed upon the gloomy faces of the military men around him, in the
+old court house of Accomac. In that little assembly, might be seen the
+tall and manly form of Colonel Philip Ludwell, who had been honoured, by
+the especial confidence of Berkeley, as he was, afterwards, by the
+constant and tender love of the widowed Lady Frances. There, too, was
+the stern, hard countenance of Major Robert Beverley, whose unbending
+loyalty had shut his eyes to true merit in an opponent. The names of the
+remaining members of the court, have, unfortunately, not found a place
+in the history of the rebellion. Alfred Bernard, on whom the governor
+had showered, with a lavish hand, the favours which it was in his power
+to bestow, had been promoted to the office of Major, in the room of
+Thomas Hansford, outlawed, and was, therefore, entitled to a seat at the
+council which was to try the life of his rival. But as his evidence was
+of an important character, and as he had been concerned directly in the
+arrest of the prisoner, he preferred to act in the capacity of a
+witness, rather than as a judge.
+
+"Let the prisoner be brought before the court," said Berkeley; and in a
+few moments, Hansford, with his hands manacled, was led, between a file
+of soldiers, to the seat prepared for him. His short confinement had
+made but little change in his appearance. His face, indeed, was paler
+than usual, and his eye was brighter, for the exciting and solemn scene
+through which he was about to pass. But prejudged, though he was, his
+firmness never forsook him, and he met with a calm, but respectful gaze,
+the many eyes which were bent upon him. Conspicuous among the rebels,
+and popular and beloved in the colony, his trial had attracted a crowd
+of spectators; some impelled by vulgar curiosity, some by their loyal
+desire to witness the trial of a rebel to his king, but not a few by
+sympathy for his early and already well known fate.
+
+As might well be expected, there was but little difficulty in
+establishing his participation in the late rebellion. There were many of
+the witnesses, who had seen him in intimate association with Bacon, and
+several who recognized him as among the most active in the trenches at
+Jamestown. To crown all, the irresistible evidence was introduced by
+Bernard, that the prisoner had actually brought a threatening message to
+the governor, while at Windsor Hall, which had induced the first flight
+to Accomac. It was useless to resist the force of such accumulated
+testimony, and Hansford saw that his fate was settled. It were folly to
+contend before such a tribunal, that his acts did not constitute
+rebellion, or that the court before whom he was arraigned was
+unconstitutional. The devoted victim of their vengeance, therefore,
+awaited in silence the conclusion of this solemn farce, which they had
+dignified by the name of a trial.
+
+The evidence concluded, Sir William Berkeley, as Lord President of the
+Court, collected the suffrages of its members. It might easily be
+anticipated by their gloomy countenances, what was the solemn import of
+their judgment. Thomas Ludwell, the secretary of the council, acted as
+the clerk, and in a voice betraying much emotion, read the fatal
+decision. The sympathizing bystanders, who in awful silence awaited the
+result, drew a long breath as though relieved from their fearful
+suspense, even by having heard the worst. And Hansford was to die! He
+heard with much emotion the sentence which doomed him to a traitor's
+death the next day at noon; and those who were near, heard him sob, "My
+poor, poor mother!" But almost instantly, with a violent effort he
+controlled his feelings, and asked permission to speak.
+
+"Surely," said the Governor, "provided your language be respectful to
+the Court, and that you say nothing reflecting on his majesty's
+government at home or in the Colony of Virginia."
+
+"These are hard conditions," said Hansford, rising from his seat, "as
+with such limitations, I can scarcely hope to justify my conduct. But I
+accept your courtesy, even with these conditions. A dying man has at
+last but little to say, and but little disposition to mingle again in
+the affairs of a world which he must so soon leave. In the short, the
+strangely short time allotted to me, I have higher and holier concerns
+to interest me. Ere this hour to-morrow, I will have passed from the
+scenes of earth to appear before a higher tribunal than yours, and to
+answer for the forgotten sins of my past life. But I thank my God, that
+while that awful tribunal is higher, it is also juster and more merciful
+than yours. Even in this sad moment, however, I cannot forget the
+country for which I have lived, and for which I must so soon die. I see
+by your countenances that I am already transcending your narrow limits.
+But it cannot be treason to pray for her, and as my life has been
+devoted to her service, so will my prayers for her welfare ascend with
+my petitions for forgiveness.
+
+"I would say a word as to the offence with which I have been charged,
+and the evidence on which I have been convicted. That evidence amounts
+to the fact that I was in arms, by the authority of the Governor,
+against the common enemies of my country. Is this treason? That I was
+the bearer of a threatening message to the Governor from General Bacon,
+which caused the first flight into Accomac. And here I would say," and
+he fixed his eyes full on Alfred Bernard, as he spoke, who endeavoured
+to conceal his feelings by a smile of scorn, "that the evidence on this
+point has been cruelly, shamefully garbled and perverted. It was never
+stated that, while as the minister of another, I bore the message
+referred to, I urged the Governor to consider and retract the
+proclamation which he had made, and offered my own mediation to restore
+peace and quiet to the Colony. Had my advice been taken the beams of
+peace would have once more burst upon Virginia, the scenes which are
+constantly enacted here, and which will continue to be enacted, would
+never have disgraced the sacred name of justice; and the name of Sir
+William Berkeley would not be handed down to the execrations of
+posterity as a dishonoured knight, and a brutal, bloody butcher."
+
+"Silence!" cried the incensed old Governor, in tones of thunder, "or by
+the wounds of God, I'll shorten the brief space which now interposes
+between you and eternity. Is this redeeming your promise of respect?"
+
+"I beg pardon," said Hansford, undaunted by the menace. "Excuse me, if I
+cannot speak patiently of cruelty and oppression. But let this pass.
+That perfidious wretch who would rise above my ruins, never breathed a
+word of this, when on the evangelist of Almighty God he was sworn to
+speak the truth. But if such evidence be sufficient to convict me of
+treason now, why was it not sufficient then? Why, with the same facts
+before you, did you, Sir William Berkeley, discharge the traitor in
+arms, and now seek his death when disarmed and impotent? One other link
+remains in the chain, this feeble chain of evidence. I aided in the
+siege of Jamestown, and once more drove the Governor and his fond
+adherents from their capital, to their refuge in the Accomac. I cannot,
+I will not deny it. But neither can this be treason, unless, indeed, Sir
+William Berkeley possesses in his own person the sacred majesty of
+Virginia. For when he abdicated the government by his first flight from
+the soil of Virginia, the sovereign people of the Colony, assembled in
+solemn convention, declared his office vacant. In that convention, you,
+my judges, well know, for you found it to your cost, were present a
+majority of the governor's council, the whole army, and almost the
+entire chivalry and talent of the colony. In their name writs were
+issued for an assembly, which met under their authority, and the
+commission of governor was placed in the hands of Nathaniel Bacon."
+
+"By an unauthorized mob," said Berkeley, unable to restrain his
+impatience.
+
+"By an organized convention of sovereign people," returned Hansford,
+proudly. "You, Sir William Berkeley, deemed it not an unauthorized mob,
+when confiding in your justice, and won by your soft promises, a similar
+convention, composed of cavaliers and rich landholders, confided to
+your hands, in 1659, the high trust which you now hold. If such a
+proceeding were unauthorized then, were you not guilty in accepting the
+commission? If authorized, were not the same people competent to bestow
+the trust upon another, whom they deemed more worthy to hold it? If this
+be so, the insurgents, as you have chosen to call them, were not in arms
+against the government at the siege of Jamestown. And thus the last
+strand in the coil of evidence, with which you have involved me, is
+broken, as withs are severed at the touch of fire. But light as is the
+testimony against me, it is sufficient to turn the beam of justice, when
+the sword of Brennus is cast into the scale.
+
+"One word more and I am done; for I see you are impatient for the
+sacrifice. I had thought that I would have been tried by a jury of my
+peers. Such I deemed my right as a British subject. But condemned by the
+extraordinary and unwarranted proceedings of this Star Chamber"--
+
+"Silence!" cried Berkeley, again waxing wroth at such an imputation.
+
+"I beg pardon once more," continued Hansford, "I thought the favourite
+institution of Charles the First would not have met with so little
+favour from such loyal cavaliers. But I demand in the name of Freedom,
+in the name of England, in the name of God and Justice, when was Magna
+Charta or the Petition of Right abolished on the soil of Virginia? Is
+the Governor of Virginia so little of a lawyer that he remembers not the
+language of the stout Barons of Runnymede, unadorned in style, but
+pregnant with freedom. 'No freeman may be taken or imprisoned, or be
+disseised of his freehold or liberties, or his free-customs, or be
+outlawed or exiled, or in any manner destroyed, but by the lawful
+judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land.' Excuse me, gentlemen,
+for repeating to such sage judges so old and hackneyed a fragment of the
+law. But until to-day, I had been taught to hold those words as sacred,
+and as indeed containing the charter of the liberties of an Englishman.
+Alas! it will no longer be hackneyed nor quoted by the slaves of
+England, except when they mourn with bitter but hopeless tears, for the
+higher and purer freedom of their ruder fathers. Why am I thus arraigned
+before a court-martial in time of peace? Am I found in arms? Am I even
+an officer or a soldier? The commission which I once held has been torn
+from me, and given, as his thirty pieces, to you dissembling Judas, for
+the price of my betrayal. But I am done. Your tyranny and oppression
+cannot last for ever. The compressed spring will at last recoil with
+power proportionate to the force by which it has been restrained--and
+freed posterity will avenge on a future tyrant my cruel and unnatural
+murder."
+
+Hansford sat down, and Sir William Berkeley, flushed with indignation,
+replied,
+
+"I had hoped that the near approach of death, if not a higher motive,
+would have saved us from such treasonable sentiments. But, sir, the
+insolence of your manner has checked any sympathy which I might have
+entertained for your early fate. I, therefore, have only to pronounce
+the judgment of the court; that you be taken to the place whence you
+came, and there safely kept until to-morrow noon, when you will be
+taken, with a rope about your neck, to the common gallows, and there
+hung by the neck until you are dead. And may the Lord Jesus Christ have
+mercy on your soul!"
+
+"Amen!" was murmured, in sad whispers, by the hundreds of pale
+spectators who crowded around the unhappy prisoner.
+
+"How is this!" cried Hansford, once more rising to his feet, with strong
+emotion. "Gentlemen, you are soldiers, as such I may claim you as
+brethren, as such you should be brave and generous men. On that
+generosity, in this hour of peril, I throw myself, and ask as a last
+indulgence, as a dying favour, that I may die the death of a soldier,
+and not of a felon."
+
+"You have lived a traitor's, not a soldier's life," said Berkeley, in an
+insulting tone. "A soldier's life is devoted to his king and country;
+yours to a rebel and to treason. You shall die the death of a traitor."
+
+"Well, then, I have done," said Hansford, with a sigh, "and must look to
+Him alone for mercy, who can make the felon's gallows as bright a
+pathway to happiness, as the field of glory."
+
+Many a cheek flushed with indignation at the refusal of the governor to
+grant this last petition of a brave man. A murmur of dissatisfaction
+arose from the crowd, and even some sturdy loyalists were heard to
+mutter, "shame." The other members of the court were seen to confer
+together, and to remonstrate with the governor.
+
+"'Fore God, no," said Berkeley, in a whisper to his advisers. "Think of
+the precedent it will establish. Traitor he has lived, and as far as my
+voice can go, traitor he shall die. I suppose the sheep-killing hound,
+and the egg-sucking cur, will next whine out their request to be shot
+instead of hung."
+
+So great was the influence of Berkeley, over the minds of the court,
+that, after a feeble remonstrance, the petition of the prisoner was
+rejected. Old Beverley alone, was heard to mutter in the ear of Philip
+Ludwell, that it was a shame to deny a brave man a soldier's death, and
+doom him to a dog's fate.
+
+"And for all this," he added, "its a damned hard lot, and blast me, but
+I think Hansford to be worth in bravery and virtue, fifty of that
+painted popinjay, Bernard, whose cruelty is as much beyond his years as
+his childish vanity is beneath them."
+
+"Well, gentlemen, I trust you are now satisfied," said Berkeley.
+"Sheriff, remove your prisoner, and," looking angrily around at the
+malecontents, "if necessary, summon an additional force to assist you."
+
+The officer, however, deemed no such precaution necessary, and the
+hapless Hansford was conducted back to his cell under the same guard
+that brought him thence; there to await the execution on the morrow of
+the fearful sentence to which he had been condemned.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+    _Isabella._ "Yet show some pity.
+
+    _Angelo._ I show it most of all when I show justice."
+                                              _Measure for Measure._
+
+
+That evening Sir William Berkeley was sitting in the private room at the
+tavern, which had been fitted up for his reception. He had strictly
+commanded his servants to deny admittance to any one who might wish to
+see him. The old man was tired of counsellors, advisers, and
+petitioners, who harassed him in their attempt to curb his impatient
+ire, and he was determined to act entirely for himself. He had thus been
+sitting for more than an hour, looking moodily into the fire, without
+even the officious Lady Frances to interfere with his reflections, when
+a servant in livery entered the room.
+
+"If your Honour please," said the obsequious servitor, "there is a lady
+at the door who says she must see you on urgent business. I told her
+that you could not be seen, but she at last gave me this note, which she
+begged me to hand you."
+
+Berkeley impatiently tore open the note and read as follows:--
+
+     "By his friendship for my father, and his former kindness to me, I
+     ask for a brief interview with Sir William Berkeley.
+                                                    "VIRGINIA TEMPLE."
+
+"Fore God!" said the Governor, angrily, "they beset me with an
+importunity which makes me wretched. What the devil can the girl want!
+Some favour for Bernard, I suppose. Well, any thing for a moment's
+respite from these troublesome rebels. Show her up, Dabney."
+
+In another moment the door again opened, and Virginia Temple, pale and
+trembling, fell upon her knees before the Governor, and raised her soft,
+blue eyes to his face so imploringly, that the heart of the old man was
+moved to pity.
+
+"Rise, my daughter," he said, tenderly; "tell me your cause of grief. It
+surely cannot be so deep as to bring you thus upon your knees to an old
+friend. Rise then, and tell me."
+
+"Oh, thank you," she said, with a trembling voice, "I knew that you were
+kind, and would listen to my prayer."
+
+"Well, Virginia," said the Governor, in the same mild tone, "let me hear
+your request? You know, we old servants of the king have not much time
+to spare at best, and these are busy times. Is your father well, and
+your good mother? Can I serve them in any thing?"
+
+"They are both well and happy, nor do they need your aid," said
+Virginia; "but I, sir, oh! how can I speak. I have come from Windsor
+Hall to ask that you will be just and merciful. There is, sir, a brave
+man here in chains, who is doomed to die--to die to-morrow. Oh,
+Hansford, Hansford!" and unable longer to control her emotion, the poor,
+broken-hearted girl burst into an agony of tears.
+
+Berkeley's brow clouded in an instant.
+
+"And is it for that unhappy man, my poor girl, that you have come alone
+to sue?"
+
+"I did not come alone," replied Virginia; "my father is with me, and
+will himself unite in my request."
+
+"I will be most happy to see my old friend again, but I would that he
+came on some less hopeless errand. Major Hansford must die. The laws
+alike of his God and his country, which he has trampled regardless under
+foot, require the sacrifice of his blood."
+
+"But, for the interposition of mercy," urged the poor girl, "the laws of
+God require the death of all--and the laws of his country have vested in
+you the right to arrest their rigour at your will. Oh, how much sweeter
+to be merciful than sternly just!"
+
+"Nay, my poor girl," said Sir William, "you speak of what you cannot
+understand, and your own griefs have blinded your mind. Justice,
+Virginia, is mercy; for by punishing the offender it prevents the
+repetition of the offence. The vengeance of the law thus becomes the
+safeguard of society, and the sword of justice becomes the sceptre of
+righteousness."
+
+"I cannot reason with you," returned Virginia. "You are a statesman, and
+I am but a poor, weak girl, ignorant of the ways of the world."
+
+"And therefore you have come to advocate this suit instead of your
+father," said Berkeley, smiling. "I see through your little plot
+already. Come, tell me now, am I not right in my conjecture? Why have
+you come to urge the cause of Hansford, instead of your father?"
+
+"Because," said Virginia, with charming simplicity, "we both thought,
+that as Sir William Berkeley had already decided upon the fate of this
+unhappy man, it would be easier to reach his heart, than to affect the
+mature decision of his judgment."
+
+"You argued rightly, my dear girl," said Berkeley, touched by her
+frankness and simplicity, as well as by her tears. "But it is the hard
+fate of those in power to deny themselves often the luxury of mercy,
+while they tread onward in the rough but straight path of justice. It is
+ours to follow the stern maxim of our old friend Shakspeare:
+
+    'Mercy but murders, pardoning those who kill.'"
+
+"But it does seem to me," said the resolute girl, losing all the native
+diffidence of her character in the interest she felt in her cause--"it
+does seem to me that even stern policy would sometimes dictate mercy.
+May not a judicious clemency often secure the love of the misguided
+citizen, while harsh justice would estrange him still farther from
+loyalty?"
+
+"There, you are trenching upon your father's part, my child," said the
+Governor. "You must not go beyond your own cue, you know--for believe me
+that your plea for mercy would avail far more with me than your reasons,
+however cogent. This rebellion proceeded too far to justify any clemency
+toward those who promoted it."
+
+"But it is now suppressed," said Virginia, resolutely; "and is it not
+the sweetest attribute of power, to help the fallen? Oh, remember," she
+added, carried away completely by her subject,
+
+    "'Less pleasure take brave minds in battles won,
+    Than in restoring such as are undone;
+    Tigers have courage, and the rugged bear,
+    But man alone can, when he conquers, spare.'"
+
+"I did not expect to hear your father's daughter defend her cause by
+such lines as these. Do you know where they are found?"
+
+"They are Waller's, I believe," said Virginia, blushing at this
+involuntary display of learning; "but it is their truth, and not their
+author, which suggested them to me."
+
+"Your memory is correct," said Berkeley, with a smile, "but they are
+found in his panegyric on the Protector. A eulogy upon a traitor is bad
+authority with an old cavalier like me."
+
+"If, then, you need authority which you cannot question," the girl
+replied, earnestly, "do you think that the royal cause lost strength by
+the mild policy of Charles the Second? That is authority that even you
+dare not question."
+
+"Well, and what if I should say," replied Berkeley, "that this very
+leniency was one of the causes that encouraged the recent rebellion? But
+go, my child; I would rejoice if I could please you, but Hansford's fate
+is settled. I pity you, but I cannot forgive him." And with a courteous
+inclination of his head, he signified his desire that their interview
+should end.
+
+"Nay," shrieked Virginia, in desperation, "I will not let you go, except
+you bless me," and throwing herself again upon her knees, she implored
+his mercy. Berkeley, who, with all his sternness, was not an unfeeling
+man, was deeply moved. What the result might have been can never be
+known, for at that moment a voice was heard from the street exclaiming,
+"Drummond is taken!" In an instant the whole appearance of the Governor
+changed. His cheek flushed and his eye sparkled, as with hasty strides
+he left the room and descended the stairs. No more the fine specimen of
+a cavalier gentleman, his manner became at once harsh and irritable.
+
+"Well, Mr. Drummond," he cried, as he saw the proud rebel led manacled
+to the door. "'Fore God, and I am more delighted to see you than any man
+in the colony. You shall hang in half an hour."
+
+"And if he do," shrieked the wild voice of a woman from the crowd,
+"think you that with your puny hand you can arrest the current of
+liberty in this colony? And when you appear before the dread bar of
+God, the spirits of these martyred patriots will rise up to condemn you,
+and fiends shall snatch at your blood-stained soul, perfidious tyrant!
+And I will be among them, for such a morsel of vengeance would sweeten
+hell. Ha! ha! ha!"
+
+With that wild, maniac laugh, Sarah Drummond disappeared from the crowd
+of astounded spectators.
+
+History informs us that the deadly threat of Berkeley was carried into
+effect immediately. But it was not until two days afterwards that
+William Drummond met a traitor's doom upon the common gallows.
+
+Virginia Temple, thus abruptly left, and deprived of all hope, fell
+senseless on the floor of the room. The hope which had all along
+sustained her brave young heart, had now vanished forever, and kindly
+nature relieved the agony of her despair by unconsciousness. And there
+she lay, pale and beautiful, upon that floor, while the noisy clamour
+without was hailing the capture of another victim, whose fate was to
+bring sorrow and despair to another broken heart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII.
+
+    "His nature is so far from doing harm,
+    That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty
+    My practices ride easy."
+                                            _King Lear._
+
+
+When Virginia aroused again to consciousness, her eyes met the features
+of Alfred Bernard, as he knelt over her form. Not yet realizing her
+situation, she gazed wildly about her, and in a hoarse, husky whisper,
+which fell horridly on the ear, she said, "Where is my father?"
+
+"At home, Virginia," replied Bernard, softly, chafing her white temples
+the while--"And you are here in Accomac. Look up, Virginia, and see that
+you are not without a friend even here."
+
+"Oh, now, yes, now I know it all," she shrieked, springing up with a
+wild bound, and rushing like a maniac toward the door. "They have killed
+him! I have slept here, instead of begging his life. I have murdered
+him! Ha! you, sir, are you the jailer? I should know your face."
+
+"Nay, do not speak thus, Virginia," said Bernard, holding her gently in
+his arms, "Hansford is yet alive. Be calm."
+
+"Hansford! I thought he was dead!" said the poor girl, her mind still
+wandering. "Did not Mamalis--no--she is dead--all are dead--ha? where am
+I? Sure this is not Windsor Hall. Nay, what am I talking about. Let me
+see;" and she pressed her hand to her forehead, and smoothed back her
+fair hair, as she strove to collect her thoughts. "Ah! now I know," she
+said at length, more calmly, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Bernard, I have
+acted very foolishly, I fear. But you will forgive a poor distracted
+girl."
+
+"I promised you my influence with the governor," said Bernard, "and I do
+not yet despair of effecting my object. And so be calm."
+
+"Despair!" said Virginia, bitterly, "as well might you expect to turn a
+river from the sea, as to turn the relentless heart of that bigoted old
+tyrant from blood. And yet, I thank you, Mr. Bernard, and beg that you
+will leave no means untried to preserve my poor doomed Hansford. You see
+I am quite calm now, and should you fail in your efforts to procure a
+pardon, may I ask one last melancholy favour at your hands! I would see
+him once more before we part, forever." And to prove how little she knew
+her own heart, the poor girl burst into a renewed agony of grief.
+
+"Calm your feelings, then, dear Virginia," said Bernard, "and you shall
+see him. But by giving way thus, you would unman him."
+
+"You remind me of my duty, my friend," said Virginia, controlling
+herself, with a strong effort, "and I will not again forget it in my
+selfish grief. Shall we go now?"
+
+"Remain here, but a few moments, patiently," he replied, "and I will
+seek the governor, and urge him to relent. If I fail, I will return to
+you."
+
+Leaving the young girl once more to her own sad reflections, Alfred
+Bernard left the room.
+
+"Virtue has its own reward," he muttered, as he walked slowly along. "I
+wonder how many would be virtuous if it were not so! Self is at last the
+mainspring of action, and when it produces good, we call it virtue; when
+it accomplishes evil, we call it vice; wherein, then, am I worse than my
+fellow man? Here am I, now, giving this poor girl a interview with her
+rebel lover, and extracting some happiness for them, even from their
+misery. And yet I am not a whit the worse off. Nay, I am benefited, for
+gratitude is a sure prompter of love; and when Hansford is out of the
+way, who so fit to supply the niche, left vacant in her heart, as Alfred
+Bernard, who soothed their mutual grief. Thus virtue is often a valuable
+handmaid to success, and may be used for our purposes, when we want her
+assistance, and afterwards be whistled to the winds as a pestilent jade.
+Machiavelli in politics, Loyola in religion, Rochefoucault in society,
+ye are the mighty three, who, seeing the human heart in all its
+nakedness, have dared to tear the mask from its deformed and hideous
+features."
+
+"What in the world are you muttering about, Alfred?" said Governor
+Berkeley, as they met in the porch, as Bernard had finished this
+diabolical soliloquy.
+
+"Oh nothing," replied the young intriguer. "But I came to seek your
+excellency."
+
+"And I to seek for you, my sage young counsellor; I have to advise with
+you upon a subject which lies heavy on my heart, Alfred."
+
+"You need only command my counsel and it is yours," said Bernard, "but I
+fear that I can be of little assistance in your reflections."
+
+"Yes you can, my boy," returned Berkeley, "I know not whether you will
+esteem it a compliment or not, Alfred, but yours is an old head on young
+shoulders, and the heart, which in the season of youth often flits away
+from the sober path of judgment, seems with you to follow steadily in
+the wake of reason."
+
+"If you mean that I am ever ready to sacrifice my own selfish impulses
+to my duty, I do esteem it as a compliment, though I fear not altogether
+deserved."
+
+"Well, then," said the Governor, "this poor boy, Hansford, who is to
+suffer death to-morrow, I have had a strange interview concerning him
+since I last saw you."
+
+"Aye, with Miss Temple," returned Bernard. "She told me she had seen
+you, and that you were as impregnable to assault as the rock of
+Gibraltar."
+
+"I thought so too, where treason was concerned," said Berkeley. "But
+some how, the leaven of the poor girl's tears is working strangely in my
+heart; and after I had left her, who should I meet but her old father."
+
+"Is Colonel Temple here?" asked Bernard, surprised.
+
+"Aye is he, and urged Hansford's claims to pardon with such force, that
+I had to fly from temptation. Nay he even put his plea for mercy upon
+the ground of his own former kindness to me."
+
+"The good old gentleman seems determined to be paid for that
+hospitality," said Bernard, with a sneer. "Well!"
+
+"Well, altogether I am almost determined to interpose my reprieve,
+until the wishes of his majesty are known," said Berkeley, with some
+hesitation.
+
+Bernard was silent, for some moments, and the Governor continued.
+
+"What do you say to this course Alfred?"
+
+"Simply, that if you are determined, I have nothing to say."
+
+"Nay, but I am not determined, my young friend."
+
+"Then I must ask you what are the grounds of your hesitation, before I
+can express an opinion?" said Bernard.
+
+"Well, first," said the Governor, "because it will be a personal favour
+to Colonel Temple, and will dry the tears in those blue eyes of his
+pretty daughter. His kindness to me in this unhappy rebellion would be
+but poorly requited, if I refused the first and only favour that he has
+ever asked of me."
+
+"Then hereafter," returned Bernard, quietly, "it would be good policy in
+a rebellion, for half the rebels to remain at home and entertain the
+Governor at their houses. They would thus secure the pardon of the
+rest."
+
+"Well, you young Solomon," said Berkeley, laughing, "I believe you are
+right there. It would be a dangerous precedent. But then, a reprieve is
+not a pardon, and while I might thus oblige my friends, the king could
+hereafter see the cause of justice vindicated."
+
+"And you would shift your own responsibility upon the king," replied
+Bernard. "Has not Charles Stuart enough to trouble him, with his
+rebellious subjects at home, without having to supervise every petty
+felony or treason that occurs in his distant colonies? This provision of
+our charter, denying to the Governor the power of absolute pardon, but
+granting him power to reprieve, was only made, that in doubtful cases,
+the minister might rely upon the wisdom of majesty. It was never
+intended to shift all the trouble and vexation of a colonial executive
+upon the overloaded hands of the king. If you have any doubt of
+Hansford's guilt, I would be the last to turn your heart from clemency,
+by a word of my mouth. If he be guilty, I only ask whether Sir William
+Berkeley is the man to shrink from responsibility, and to fasten upon
+his royal master the odium, if odium there be, attending the execution
+of the sentence against a rebel."
+
+"Zounds, no, Bernard, you know I am not. But then there are a plenty of
+rebels to sate the vengeance of the law, besides this poor young fellow.
+Does justice demand that all should perish?"
+
+"My kind patron," said Bernard, "to whom I owe all that I have and am,
+do not further urge me to oppose feelings so honorable to your heart.
+Exercise your clemency towards this unhappy young man, in whose fate I
+feel as deep an interest as yourself. If harm should flow from your
+mercy, who can censure you for acting from motives so generous and
+humane. If by your mildness you should encourage rebellion again,
+posterity will pardon the weakness of the Governor in the benevolence of
+the man."
+
+"Stay," said Berkeley, his pride wounded by this imputation, "you know,
+Alfred, that if I thought that clemency towards this young rebel would
+encourage rebellion in the future, I would rather lose my life than
+spare his. But speak out, and tell me candidly why you think the
+execution of this sentence necessary to satisfy justice."
+
+"You force me to an ungrateful duty," replied the young hypocrite, "for
+it is far more grateful to the heart of a benevolent man to be the
+advocate of mercy, than the stern champion of justice. But since you ask
+my reasons, it is my duty to obey you. First, then, this young man, from
+his talent, his bravery, and his high-flown notions about liberty, is
+far more dangerous than any of the insurgents who have survived
+Nathaniel Bacon. Then, he has shown that so far from repenting of his
+treason, he is ready to justify it, as witness his speech, wherein he
+predicted the triumph of revolution in Virginia, and denounced the
+vengeance of future generations upon tyranny and oppression. Nay, he
+even went farther, and characterized as brutal bloody butchers the
+avengers of the broken laws of their country."
+
+"I remember," said Berkeley, turning pale at the recollection.
+
+"But there is another cogent reason why he should suffer the penalty
+which he has so richly incurred. If your object be to secure the
+returning loyalty and affection of the people, you should not incense
+them by unjust discrimination in favour of a particular rebel. The
+friends of Drummond, of Lawrence, of Cheeseman, of Wilford, of Bland, of
+Carver, will all say, and say with justice, that you spared the
+principal leader in the rebellion, the personal friend and adviser of
+Bacon, while their own kinsmen were doomed to the scaffold. Nor will
+those ghosts walk unavenged."
+
+"I see, I see," cried Berkeley, grasping Bernard warmly by the hand.
+"You have saved me, Alfred, from a weakness which I must ever afterwards
+have deplored, and at the expense of your own feelings, my boy."
+
+"Yes, my dear patron," replied Bernard, with a sigh, "you may well say
+at the expense of my own feelings. For I too, have just witnessed a
+scene which would have moved a heart of stone; and it was at the request
+of that poor, weeping, broken-hearted girl, to save whom from distress,
+I would willingly lay down my life--it was at her request that I came to
+beg at your hands the poor privilege of a last interview with her lover.
+Even Justice, stern as are her decrees, cannot deny this boon to Mercy."
+
+"You have a generous heart, my dear boy," said the Governor, with the
+tears starting from his eyes. "There are not many men who would thus
+take delight in ministering consolation to the heart of a successful
+rival. You have my full and free permission. Go, my son, and through
+life may your heart be ever thus awake to such generous impulses, yet
+sustained and controlled by your unwavering devotion to duty and
+justice."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII.
+
+    "My life, my health, my liberty, my all!
+    How shall I welcome thee to this sad place--
+    How speak to thee the words of joy and transport?
+    How run into thy arms, withheld by fetters,
+    Or take thee into mine, while I'm thus manacled
+    And pinioned like a thief or murderer?"
+                                  _The Mourning Bride._
+
+
+How different from the soliloquy of the dark and treacherous Bernard,
+seeking in the sophistry and casuistry of philosophy to justify his
+selfishness, were the thoughts of his noble victim! Too brave to fear
+death, yet too truly great not to feel in all its solemnity the grave
+importance of the hour; with a soul formed for the enjoyment of this
+world, yet fully prepared to encounter the awful mysteries of another,
+the heart of Thomas Hansford beat calmly and healthfully, unappalled by
+the certainty that on the morrow it would beat no more. He was seated on
+a rude cot, in the room which was prepared for his brief confinement,
+reading his Bible. The proud man, who relying on his own strength had
+braved many dangers, and whose cheek had never blanched from fear of an
+earthly adversary, was not ashamed in this, his hour of great need, to
+seek consolation and support from Him who alone could conduct him
+through the dark valley of the shadow of death.
+
+The passage which he read was one of the sublime strains of the rapt
+Isaiah, and never had the promise seemed sweeter and dearer to his soul
+than now, when he could so fully appropriate it to himself.
+
+"Fear not for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by my name; thou
+art mine.
+
+"When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee; and through
+the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the
+fire thou shalt not be burnt; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.
+
+"For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy one of Israel, thy Saviour."
+
+As he read and believed the blessed assurance contained in the sacred
+promise, he learned to feel that death was indeed but the threshold to a
+purer world. So absorbed was he in the contemplation of this sublime
+theme, that he did not hear the door open, and it was some time before
+he looked up and saw Alfred Bernard and Virginia Temple, who had quietly
+entered the room.
+
+Virginia's resolution entirely gave way, and violently trembling from
+head to foot, her hands and brow as white and cold as marble, she well
+nigh sank under the sickening effect of her agony. For all this she did
+not weep. There are wounds which never indicate their existence by
+outward bleeding, and such are esteemed most dangerous. 'Tis thus with
+the spirit-wounds which despair inflicts upon its victim. Nature yields
+not to the soul the sad relief of tears, but falling in bitter drops
+they petrify and crush the sad heart, which they fail to relieve.
+
+Hansford, too, was much moved, but with a greater control of his
+feelings he said, "And so, you have come to take a last farewell,
+Virginia. This is very, very kind."
+
+"I regret," said Alfred Bernard, "that the only condition on which I
+gained admittance for Miss Temple was, that I should remain during the
+interview. Major Hansford will see the necessity of such a precaution,
+and will, I am sure, pardon an intrusion as painful to me as to
+himself."
+
+The reader, who has been permitted to see the secret workings of that
+black heart, which was always veiled from the world, need not be told
+that no such precaution was proposed by the Governor. Bernard's object
+was more selfish; it was to prevent his victim from prejudicing the mind
+of Virginia towards him, by informing her of the prominent part that he
+had taken in Hansford's trial and conviction.
+
+"Oh, certainly, sir," replied Hansford, gratefully, "and I thank you,
+Mr. Bernard, for thus affording me an opportunity of taking a last
+farewell of the strongest tie which yet binds me to earth. I had thought
+till now," he added, with emotion, "that I was fully prepared to meet my
+fate. Well, Virginia, the play is almost over, and the last dread scene,
+tragic though it be, cannot last long."
+
+"Oh, God!" cried the trembling girl, "help me--help me to bear this
+heavy blow."
+
+"Nay, speak not thus, my own Virginia," he said. "Remember that my lot
+is but the common destiny of mankind, only hastened a few hours. The
+leaves, that the chill autumn breath has strewn upon the earth, will be
+supplied by others in the spring, which in their turn will sport for a
+season in the summer wind, and fade and die with another year. Thus one
+generation passes away, and another comes, like them to live, like them
+to die and be forgotten. We need not fear death, if we have discharged
+our duty."
+
+With such words of cold philosophy did Hansford strive to console the
+sad heart of Virginia.
+
+"'Tis true, the death I die," he added with a shudder, "is what men
+call disgraceful--but the heart need feel no fear which is sheltered by
+the Rock of Ages."
+
+"And yours is sheltered there, I know," she said. "The change for you,
+though sudden and awful, must be happy; but for me! for me!--oh, God, my
+heart will break!"
+
+"Virginia, Virginia," said Hansford, tenderly, as he tried with his poor
+manacled hands to support her almost fainting form, "control yourself.
+Oh, do not add to my sorrows by seeing you suffer thus. You have still
+many duties to perform--to soothe the declining years of your old
+parents--to cheer with your warm heart the many friends who love
+you--and, may I add," he continued, with a faltering voice, "that my
+poor, poor mother will need your consolation. She will soon be without a
+protector on earth, and this sad news, I fear, will well nigh break her
+heart. To you, and to the kind hands of her merciful Father in heaven, I
+commit the charge of my widowed mother. Oh, will you not grant the last
+request of your own Hansford?"
+
+And Virginia promised, and well and faithfully did she redeem that
+promise. That widowed mother gained a daughter in the loss of her noble
+boy, and died blessing the pure-hearted girl, whose soothing affection
+had sweetened her bitter sorrows, and smoothed her pathway to the quiet
+grave.
+
+"And now, Mr. Bernard," said Hansford, "it is useless to prolong this
+sad interview. We have been enemies. Forgive me if I have ever done you
+wrong--the prayers of a dying man are for your happiness. Farewell,
+Virginia, remember me to your kind old father and mother; and look you,"
+he added, with a sigh, "give this lock of my hair to my poor mother, and
+tell her that her orphan boy, who died blessing her, requested that she
+would place it in her old Bible, where I know she will often see it, and
+remember me when I am gone forever. Once more, Virginia, fare well!
+Remember, dearest, that this brief life is but a segment of the great
+circle of existence. The larger segment is beyond the grave. Then live
+on bravely, as I know you will virtuously, and we will meet in Heaven."
+
+Without a word, for she dared not speak, Virginia received his last kiss
+upon her pale, cold forehead, and cherished it there as a seal of love,
+sacred as the sign of the Redeemer's cross, traced on the infant brow at
+the baptismal font.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX.
+
+    "Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
+      With a woeful agony,
+    Which forced me to begin my tale,
+      And then it left me free.
+    Since then, at an uncertain hour,
+      That agony returns,
+    And till this ghastly tale is told
+      My heart within me burns."
+                      _Rime of the Ancient Mariner._
+
+
+The sun shone brightly the next morning, as it rose above the forest of
+tall pines which surrounded the little village of Accomac; and as its
+rays stained the long icicles on the evergreen branches of the trees,
+they looked like the pendant jewels of amber which hung from the ears of
+the fierce, untutored chieftains of the forest. The air was clear and
+frosty, and the broad heaven, that hung like a blue curtain above the
+busy world, seemed even purer and more beautiful than ever. There, calm
+and eternal, it spread in its unclouded glory, above waters, woods,
+wilds, as if unmindful of the sorrows and the cares of earth. So hovers
+the wide providence of the eternal God over his creation, unmoved in its
+sublime depths by the joys and woes which agitate the mind of man, yet
+shining over him still, in its clear beauty, and beckoning him upwards!
+
+But on none did the sun shine with more brightness, or the sky smile
+with more bitter mockery, on that morning, than on the dark forms of
+Arthur Hutchinson and his young pupil, Alfred Bernard, as they sat
+together in the embrasure of the window which lightened the little room
+of the grave old preacher. A terrible revelation was that morning to be
+made, involving the fate of the young jesuit, and meting out a dread
+retribution for the crime that he had committed. Arthur Hutchinson had
+reserved for this day the narrative of the birth and history of Alfred
+Bernard. It had been a story which he long had desired to know, but to
+all his urgent inquiries the old preacher had given an evasive reply.
+But now there was no longer need for mystery. The design of that long
+silence had been fully accomplished, and thus the stern misanthrope
+began his narrative:
+
+"It matters little, Alfred Bernard, to speak of my own origin and
+parentage. Suffice it to say, that though not noble, by the accepted
+rules of heraldry, my parents were noble in that higher sense, in which
+all may aspire to true nobility, a patent not granted for bloody feats
+in arms, nor by an erring man, but granted to true honesty and virtue
+from the court of heaven. I was not rich, and yet, by self-denial on the
+part of my parents, and by strict economy on my own part, I succeeded in
+entering Baliol College, Oxford, where I pursued my studies with
+diligence and success. This success was more essential, because I could
+look only to my own resources in my struggle with the world. But, more
+than this, I had already learned to think and care for another than
+myself; for I had yielded my young heart to one, who requited my
+affection with her own. I have long denied myself the luxury of looking
+back upon the bright image of that fair creature, so fair, and yet so
+fatal. But for your sake, and for mine own, I will draw aside the veil,
+which has fallen upon those early scenes, and look at them again.
+
+"Mary Howard was just eighteen years of age, when she plighted her troth
+to me; and surely never has Heaven placed a purer spirit in a more
+lovely form. Trusting and affectionate, her warm heart must needs fasten
+upon something it might love; and because we had been reared together,
+and she was ignorant of the larger world around her, her love was fixed
+on me. I will not go back to those bright, joyous days of innocence and
+happiness. They are gone forever, Alfred Bernard, and I have lived, and
+now live for another object, than to indulge in the recollection of joy
+and love. The saddest day of my whole life, except one, and that has
+darkened all the rest, was when I first left her side to go to college.
+But still we looked onward with high hope, and many were the castles in
+the air, or rather the vine clad cottages, which we reared in fancy, for
+our future home. Hope, Alfred Bernard, though long deferred, it may
+sicken the heart, yet hope, however faint, is better than despair.
+
+"Well! I went to college, and my love for Mary spurred me on in my
+career, and honours came easily, but were only prized because she would
+be proud of them. But though I was a hard student, I was not without my
+friends, for I had a trusting heart then. Among these, yes, chief among
+these, was Edward Hansford."
+
+Bernard started at the mention of that name. He felt that some dark
+mystery was about to be unravelled, which would establish his connection
+with the unhappy rebel. Yet he was lost in conjecture as to the
+character of the revelation.
+
+"I have never in my long experience," continued Hutchinson, smiling
+sadly, as he observed the effect produced, "known any man who possessed,
+in so high a degree, the qualities which make men beloved and honoured.
+Brave, generous, and chivalrous; brilliant in genius, classical in
+attainment, profound in intellect. His person was a fit palace for such
+a mind and such a heart. Yes, I can think of him now as he was, when I
+first knew him, before crime of the deepest dye had darkened his soul. I
+loved him as I never had loved a man before, as I never can love a man
+again. I might forgive the past, I could never trust again.
+
+"Edward returned my love, I believe, with his whole heart. Our studies
+were the same, our feelings and opinions were congenial, and, in short,
+in the language of our great bard, we grew 'like a double cherry, only
+seeming parted.' I made him my confidant, and he used to laugh, in his
+good humoured way, at my enthusiastic description of Mary. He threatened
+to fall in love with her, himself, and to win her heart from me, and I
+dared him to do so, if he could; and even, in my joyous triumph, invited
+him home with me in vacation, that he might see the lovely conquest I
+had made. Well, home we went together, and his welcome was all that I or
+he could wish. Mary, my sweet, confiding Mary, was so kind and gentle,
+that I loved her only the more, because she loved my friend so much. I
+never dreamed of jealousy, Alfred Bernard, or I might have seen
+beforehand the wiles of the insidious tempter. How often have I looked
+with transport on their graceful forms, as they stood to watch the
+golden sunset, from that sweet old porch, over which the roses clambered
+so thickly.
+
+"But why do I thus delay. The story is at last a brief one. It wanted
+but two days of our return to Oxford, and we were all spending the day
+together at old farmer Howard's. Mary seemed strangely sad that evening,
+and whenever I spoke to her, her eyes filled with tears, and she
+trembled violently. Fool that I was, I attributed her tears and her
+agitation to her regret at parting from her lover. Little did I suspect
+the terrible storm which awaited me. Well, we parted, as lovers part,
+with sighs and tears, but with me, and alas! with me alone in hope.
+Edward himself looked moody and low-spirited, and I recollect that to
+cheer him up, I rallied him on being in love with Mary. Never will I
+forget his look, now that the riddle is solved, as he replied, fixing
+his clear, intense blue eyes upon me, 'Arthur, the wisest philosophy is,
+not to trust your all in one venture. He who embarks his hopes and
+happiness in the heart of one woman, may make shipwreck of them all.'
+
+"'And so you, Mr. Philosopher,' I replied, gaily, 'would live and die an
+old bachelor. Now, for mine own part, with little Mary's love, I promise
+you that my baccalaureate degree at Oxford will be the only one to which
+I will aspire.'
+
+"He smiled, but said nothing, and we parted for the night.
+
+"Early the next morning, even before the sun had risen, I went to his
+room to wake him--for on that day we were to have a last hunt. We had
+been laying up a stock of health, by such manly exercises for the coming
+session. Intimate as I was with him, I did not hesitate to enter his
+room without announcing myself. To my surprise he was not there, and the
+bed had evidently not been occupied. As I was about to leave the room,
+in some alarm, my eye rested upon a letter, which was lying on the
+table, and addressed to me. With a trembling hand I tore it open, and
+oh, my God! it told me all--the faithlessness of my Mary, the villainy
+of my friend."
+
+"The perfidious wretch," cried Bernard, with indignation.
+
+"Beware, Alfred Bernard," said the clergyman; "you know not what you
+say. My tale is not yet done. I remember every word of that brief letter
+now--although more than thirty years have since passed over me. It ran
+thus:
+
+"'Forgive me, Arthur; I meant not to have wronged you when I came, but
+in an unhappy moment temptation met me, and I yielded. My perfidy cannot
+be long concealed. Heaven has ordained that the fruit of our mutual
+guilt shall appear as the witness of my baseness and of Mary's shame.
+Forgive me, but above all, forgive her, Arthur.'
+
+"This was all. No name was even signed to the death warrant of all my
+hopes. At that moment a cold chill came over my heart, which has never
+left it since. That letter was the Medusa which turned it into stone. I
+did not rave--I did not weep. Believe me, Alfred Bernard, I was as calm
+at that moment as I am now. But the calmness was more terrible than open
+wrath. It was the sure indication of deep-rooted, deliberate revenge. I
+wrote a letter to my father, explaining every thing, and then saddling
+my horse, I turned his head towards old Howard's cottage, and rode like
+the lightning.
+
+"The old man was sitting in his shirt sleeves, in the porch. He saw me
+approach, and in his loud, hearty voice, which fell like fiendish
+mockery upon my ear, he cried out, 'Hallo, Arthur, my boy, come to say
+good-bye to your sweetheart again, hey! Well, that's right. You couldn't
+part like loveyers before the stranger and the old folks. Shall I call
+my little Molly down?"
+
+"'Old man,' I said, in a hollow, sepulchral voice, 'you have no
+daughter'--and throwing myself from my horse, I rushed into the house.
+
+"I will not attempt to describe the scene which followed. How the old
+man rushed to her room, and the truth flashed upon his mind that she had
+fled with her guilty lover. How he threw himself upon the bed of his
+lost and ruined daughter, and a stranger before to tears, now wept
+aloud. And how he prayed with the fervor of one who prays for the
+salvation of a soul, that God would strike with the lightning of his
+wrath the destroyer of his peace, the betrayer of his daughter's virtue.
+Had Edward Hansford witnessed that scene, he had been punished enough
+even for his guilt.
+
+"Well, he deserted the trusting girl, and she returned to her now
+darkened home; but, alas, how changed! When her child was born, the
+innocent offspring of her guilt, in the care attending its nurture, the
+violent grief of the mother gave way to a calm and settled melancholy.
+All saw that the iron had entered her soul. Her old father died,
+blessing and forgiving her, and with touching regard for his memory, she
+refused to desecrate his pure name, by permitting the child of shame to
+bear it. She called it after a distant relation, who never heard of the
+dishonour thus attached to his name. A heart so pure as was the heart of
+Mary Howard, could not long bear up beneath this load of shame. She
+lingered about five years after the birth of her boy, and on her dying
+bed confided the child to me. There in that sacred hour, I vowed to rear
+and protect the little innocent, and by God's permission I have kept
+that vow."
+
+"Oh, tell me, tell me," said Bernard, wildly, "am I that child of guilt
+and shame."
+
+"Alas! Alfred, my son, you are," said the preacher, "but oh, you know
+not all the terrible vengeance which a mysterious heaven will this day
+visit on the children of your father."
+
+As the awful truth gradually dawned upon him, Bernard cried with deep
+emotion.
+
+"And Edward Hansford! tell me what became of him?"
+
+"With the most diligent search I could hear nothing of him for years. At
+length I learned that he had come to Virginia, married a young lady of
+some fortune and family, and had at last been killed in a skirmish with
+the Indians, leaving an only son, an infant in arms, the only remaining
+comfort of his widowed mother."
+
+"And that son," cried Bernard, the perspiration bursting from his brow
+in the agony of the moment.
+
+"Is Thomas Hansford, who, I fear, this day meets his fate by a brother's
+and a rival's hand."
+
+"I demand your proof," almost shrieked the agitated fratricide.
+
+"The name first excited my suspicion," returned Hutchinson, "and made me
+warn you from crossing his path, when I saw you the night of the ball at
+Jamestown. But confirmation was not wanting, for when this morning I
+visited his cell to administer the last consolations of religion to him,
+I saw him gazing upon the features in miniature of that very Edward, who
+was the author of Mary Howard's wrongs."
+
+With a wild spring, Alfred Bernard bounded through the door, and as he
+rushed into the street, he heard the melancholy voice of the preacher,
+as he cried, "Too late, too late."
+
+Regardless of that cry, the miserable fratricide rushed madly along the
+path which led to the place of execution, where the Governor and his
+staff in accordance with the custom of the times had assembled to
+witness the death of a traitor. The slow procession with the rude sledge
+on which the condemned man was dragged, was still seen in the distance,
+and the deep hollow sound of the muffled drum, told him too plainly that
+the brief space of time which remained, was drawing rapidly to a close.
+On, on, he sped, pushing aside the surprised populace who were
+themselves hastening to the gallows, to indulge the morbid passion to
+see the death and sufferings of a fellow man. The road seemed
+lengthening as he went, but urged forward by desperation, regardless of
+fatigue, he still ran swiftly toward the spot. He came to an angle of
+the road, where for a moment he lost sight of the gloomy spectacle, and
+in that moment he suffered the pangs of unutterable woe. Still the
+muffled drum, in its solemn tones assured him that there was yet a
+chance. But as he strained his eyes once more towards the fatal spot,
+the sound of merry music and the wild shouts of the populace fell like
+horrid mockery on his ear, for it announced that all was over.
+
+"Too late, too late," he shrieked, in horror, as he fell prostrate and
+lifeless on the ground.
+
+And above that dense crowd, unheeding the wild shout of gratified
+vengeance that went up to heaven in that fearful moment, the soul of the
+generous and patriotic Hansford soared gladly on high with the spirits
+of the just, in the full enjoyment of perfect freedom.
+
+<tb>
+
+Reader my tale is done! The spirits I have raised abandon me, and as
+their shadows pass slowly and silently away, the scenes that we have
+recounted seem like the fading phantoms of a dream.
+
+Yet has custom made it a duty to give some brief account of those who
+have played their parts in this our little drama. In the present case,
+the intelligent reader, familiar with the history of Virginia, will
+require our services but little.
+
+History has relieved us of the duty of describing how bravely Thomas
+Hansford met his early fate, and how by his purity of life, and his
+calmness in death, he illustrated the noble sentiment of Corneile, that
+the crime and not the gallows constitutes the shame.
+
+History has told how William Berkeley, worn out by care and age, yielded
+his high functions to a milder sway, and returned to England to receive
+the reward of his rigour in his master's smile; and how that Charles
+Stuart, who with all his faults was not a cruel man, repulsed the stern
+old loyalist with a frown, and made his few remaining days dark and
+bitter.
+
+History has recorded the tender love of Berkeley for his wife, who long
+mourned his death, and at length dried her widowed tears on the warm and
+generous bosom of Philip Ludwell.
+
+And lastly, history has recorded how the masculine nature of Sarah
+Drummond, broken down with affliction and with poverty, knelt at the
+throne of her king to receive from his justice the broad lands of her
+husband, which had been confiscated by the uncompromising vengeance of
+Sir William Berkeley.
+
+Arthur Hutchinson, the victim of the treachery of his early friends,
+returned to England, and deprived of the sympathy of all, and of the
+companionship of Bernard, whose society had become essential to his
+happiness, pined away in obscurity, and died of a broken heart.
+
+Alfred Bernard, the treacherous friend, the heartless lover, the
+remorseful fratricide, could no longer raise his eyes to the betrothed
+mistress of his brother. He returned, with his patron, Sir William
+Berkeley, to his native land; and in the retirement of the old man's
+desolate home, he led a few years of deep remorse. Upon the death of his
+patron, his active spirit became impatient of the seclusion in which he
+had been buried, and true to his religion, if to naught else, he
+engaged in one of the popish plots, so common in the reign of Charles
+the Second, and at last met a rebel's fate.
+
+Colonel and Mrs. Temple, lived long and happily in each other's love;
+administering to the comfort of their bereaved child, and mutually
+sustaining each other, as they descended the hill of life, until they
+"slept peacefully together at its foot." The events of the Rebellion,
+having been consecrated by being consigned to the glorious _past_,
+furnished a constant theme to the old lady--and late in life she was
+heard to say, that you could never meet now-a-days, such loyalty as then
+prevailed, nor among the rising generation of powdered fops, and
+flippant damsels, could you find such faithful hearts as Hansford's and
+Virginia's.
+
+And Virginia Temple, the gentle and trusting Virginia, was not entirely
+unhappy. The first agony of despair subsided into a gentle melancholy.
+Content in the performance of the quiet duties allotted to her, she
+could look back with calmness and even with a melancholy pleasure to the
+bright dream of her earlier days. She learned to kiss the rod which had
+smitten her, and which blossomed with blessings--and purified by
+affliction, her gentle nature became ripened for the sweet reunion with
+her Hansford, to which she looked forward with patient hope. The human
+heart, like the waters of Bethesda, needs often to be troubled to yield
+its true qualities of health and sweetness. Thus was it with Virginia,
+and in a peaceful resignation to her Father's will, she lived and passed
+away, moving through the world, like the wind of the sweet South,
+receiving and bestowing blessings.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+ +----------------------------------------------------------------+
+ | Tanscriber's Notes:                                            |
+ | Left inconsistent use of punctuation.                          |
+ | Page 19: Changed Virgnia to Virginia.                          |
+ | Page 210: Changed wantlng to wanting.                          |
+ | Page 228: Changed afaid to afraid.                             |
+ | Page 233: Changed Britian to Britain.                          |
+ | Page 242: Changed beseiged to besieged.                        |
+ | Page 246: Left quote as: It is the cry of women, good, my lord |
+ | Page 278: Changed tinings to tidings.                          |
+ | Page 281: Changed requium to requiem.                          |
+ | Page 351: Changed pefidious to perfidious                      |
+ +----------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion, by 
+St. George Tucker
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion, by 
+St. George Tucker
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion
+
+Author: St. George Tucker
+
+Release Date: April 3, 2010 [EBook #31866]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BACON'S REBELLION ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Curtis Weyant, Joseph R. Hauser and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required.
+<p>
+<a href="#HANSFORD"><b>HANSFORD.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_1"><b>CHAPTER 1.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>CHAPTER XX.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII"><b>CHAPTER XXIII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV"><b>CHAPTER XXIV.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV"><b>CHAPTER XXV.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI"><b>CHAPTER XXVI</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII"><b>CHAPTER XXVII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII"><b>CHAPTER XXVIII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX"><b>CHAPTER XXIX.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXX"><b>CHAPTER XXX.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI"><b>CHAPTER XXXI.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII"><b>CHAPTER XXXII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII"><b>CHAPTER XXXIII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV"><b>CHAPTER XXXIV.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV"><b>CHAPTER XXXV.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI"><b>CHAPTER XXXVI.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII"><b>CHAPTER XXXVII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII"><b>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX"><b>CHAPTER XXXIX.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XL"><b>CHAPTER XL.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLI"><b>CHAPTER XLI.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLII"><b>CHAPTER XLII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII"><b>CHAPTER XLIII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV"><b>CHAPTER XLIV.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLV"><b>CHAPTER XLV.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI"><b>CHAPTER XLVI.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVII"><b>CHAPTER XLVII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLVIII"><b>CHAPTER XLVIII.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIX"><b>CHAPTER XLIX.</b></a><br />
+</p>
+-->
+
+<p class="notes">Transcriber's Note:<br />
+This text uses UTF-8 (unicode) file encoding. If the apostrophes
+and quotation marks in this paragraph appear as garbage, you may
+have an incompatible browser or unavailable fonts. First, make sure
+that your browser’s “character set” or “file encoding” is set to
+Unicode (UTF-8). You may also need to change the default font.
+</p>
+
+
+<div>
+<br /><br /><br />
+</div>
+<h1 class="newfont">Hansford:</h1>
+
+<h2>A TALE OF BACON'S REBELLION.</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<h4>BY ST. GEORGE TUCKER.</h4>
+
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">Rebellion! foul dishonouring word—<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose wrongful blight so oft has stained<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The holiest cause that, tongue or sword<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of mortal ever lost or gained.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How many a spirit, born to bless,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hath sank beneath that withering name;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whom but a day's, an hour's success,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Had wafted to eternal fame!<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><span class="smcap">Moore.</span><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<h4>RICHMOND, VA.:<br />
+PUBLISHED BY GEORGE M. WEST<br />
+BOSTON: PHILLIPS, SAMPSON &amp; CO.<br />
+1857.</h4>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<h6>Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857,<br />
+<span class="smcap">By George M. West</span>,<br />
+In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Virginia.</h6>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3>PREFACE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It is the design of the author, in the following pages, to illustrate
+the period of our colonial history, to which the story relates, and to
+show that this early struggle for freedom was the morning harbinger of
+that blessed light, which has since shone more and more unto the perfect
+day.</p>
+
+<p>Most of the characters introduced have their existence in real
+history—Hansford lived, acted and died in the manner here narrated, and
+a heart as pure and true as Virginia Temple's mourned his early doom.</p>
+
+<p>In one of those quaint old tracts, which the indefatigable antiquary,
+Peter Force, has rescued from oblivion, it is stated that Thomas
+Hansford, although a son of Mars, did sometimes worship at the shrine of
+Venus. It was his unwillingness to separate forever from the object of
+his love that led to his arrest, while lurking near her residence in
+Gloucester. From the meagre materials furnished by history of the
+celebrated rebellion of Nathaniel Bacon the following story has been
+woven.</p>
+
+<p>It were an object to be desired, both to author and to reader, that the
+fate of Thomas Hansford had been different. This could not be but by a
+direct violation of history. Yet the lesson taught in this simple story,
+it is hoped, is not without its uses to humanity. Though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> vice may
+triumph for a season, and virtue fail to meet its appropriate reward,
+yet nothing can confer on the first, nor snatch from the last, that
+substantial happiness which is ever afforded to the mind conscious of
+rectitude. The self-conviction which stings the vicious mind would make
+a diadem a crown of thorns. The <i>mens sibi conscia recti</i> can make a
+gallows as triumphant as a throne. Such is the moral which the author
+designs to convey. If a darker punishment awaits the guilty, or a purer
+reward is in reserve for the virtuous, we must look for them to that
+righteous Judge, whose hand wields at once the sceptre of mercy and the
+sword of justice.</p>
+
+<p>And now having prepared this brief preface, to stand like a portico
+before his simple edifice, the author would cordially and respectfully
+make his bow, and invite his guests to enter. If his little volume is
+read, he will be amply repaid; if approved, he will be richly rewarded.</p>
+
+
+<div>
+<br /><br />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h2><a name="HANSFORD" id="HANSFORD"></a>HANSFORD.</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_1" id="CHAPTER_1"></a>CHAPTER 1.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“The rose of England bloomed on Gertrude's cheek;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What though these shades had seen her birth? Her sire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Briton's independence taught to seek<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far western worlds.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i20"><i>Gertrude of Wyoming.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>Among those who had been driven, by the disturbances in England, to seek
+a more quiet home in the wilds of Virginia, was a gentleman of the name
+of Temple. An Englishman by birth, he was an unwilling spectator of the
+revolution which erected the dynasty of Cromwell upon the ruins of the
+British monarchy. He had never been able to divest his mind of that
+loyal veneration in which Charles Stuart was held by so many of his
+subjects, whose better judgments, if consulted, would have prompted them
+to unite with the revolutionists. But it was a strong principle with
+that noble party, who have borne in history the distinguished name of
+Cavaliers, rarely to consult the dictates of reason in questions of
+ancient prejudice. They preferred rather to err blindly with the long
+line of their loyal forbears in submission to tyranny, than to subvert
+the ancient principles of government in the attainment of freedom. They
+saw no difference between the knife of the surgeon and the sword of the
+destroyer—between the wholesome medicine, administered to heal, and the
+deadly poison, given to destroy.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>Nor are these strong prejudices without their value in the
+administration of government, while they are absolutely essential to the
+guidance of a revolution. They retard and moderate those excesses which
+they cannot entirely control, and even though unable to avoid the
+<i>descensus Averni</i>, they render that easy descent less fatal and
+destructive. Nor is there anything in the history of revolutions more
+beautiful than this steady adherence to ancient principles—this
+faithful devotion to a fallen prince, when all others have forsaken him
+and fled. While man is capable of enjoying the blessings of freedom, the
+memory of Hampden will be cherished and revered; and yet there is
+something scarcely less attractive in the disinterested loyalty, the
+generous self-denial, of the devoted Hyde, who left the comforts of
+home, the pride of country and the allurements of fame, to join in the
+lonely wanderings of the banished Stuart.</p>
+
+<p>When at last the revolution was accomplished, and Charles and the hopes
+of the Stuarts seemed to sleep in the same bloody grave, Colonel Temple,
+unwilling longer to remain under the government of a usurper, left
+England for Virginia, to enjoy in the quiet retirement of this infant
+colony, the peace and tranquillity which was denied him at home. From
+this, the last resting place of the standard of loyalty, he watched the
+indications of returning peace, and with a proud and grateful heart he
+hailed the advent of the restoration. For many years an influential
+member of the House of Burgesses, he at last retired from the busy
+scenes of political life to his estate in Gloucester, which, with a
+touching veneration for the past, he called Windsor Hall. Here, happy in
+the retrospection of a well spent life, and cheered and animated by the
+affection of a devoted wife and lovely daughter, the old Loyalist looked
+forward with a tranquil heart to the change which his increasing years
+warned him could not be far distant.</p>
+
+<p>His wife, a notable dame of the olden time, who was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> selected, like the
+wife of the good vicar, for the qualities which wear best, was one of
+those thrifty, bountiful bodies, who care but little for the government
+under which they live, so long as their larders are well stored with
+provisions, and those around them are happy and contented. Possessed of
+a good mind, and of a kind heart, she devoted herself to the true
+objects of a woman's life, and reigned supreme at home. Even when her
+husband had been immersed in the cares and stirring events of the
+revolution, and she was forced to hear the many causes of complaint
+urged against the government and stoutly combatted by the Colonel, the
+good dame had felt far more interest in market money than in ship
+money—in the neatness of her own chamber, than in the purity of the
+Star Chamber—and, in short, forgot the great principles of political
+economy in her love for the more practical science of domestic economy.
+We have said that at home Mrs. Temple reigned supreme, and so indeed she
+did. Although the good Colonel held the reins, she showed him the way to
+go, and though he was the nominal ruler of his little household, she was
+the power behind the throne, which even the throne submissively
+acknowledged to be greater than itself.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, for all this, Mrs. Temple was an excellent woman, and devoted to
+her husband's interests. Perhaps it was but natural that, although with
+a willing heart, and without a murmur, she had accompanied him to
+Virginia, she should, with a laudable desire to impress him with her
+real worth, advert more frequently than was agreeable to the heavy
+sacrifice which she had made. Nay more, we have but little doubt that
+the bustle and self-annoyance, the flurry and bluster, which always
+attended her domestic preparations, were considered as a requisite
+condiment to give relish to her food. We are at least certain of this,
+that her frequent strictures on the dress, and criticisms on the manners
+of her husband, arose from her real pride, and from her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> desire that to
+the world he should appear the noble perfection which he was to her.
+This the good Colonel fully understood, and though sometimes chafed by
+her incessant taunts, he knew her real worth, and had long since learned
+to wear his fetters as an ornament.</p>
+
+<p>Since their arrival in Virginia, Heaven had blessed the happy pair with
+a lovely daughter—a bliss for which they long had hoped and prayed, but
+hoped and prayed in vain. If hope deferred, however, maketh the heart
+sick, it loses none of its freshness and delight when it is at last
+realized, and the fond hearts of her parents were overflowing with love
+for this their only child. At the time at which our story commences,
+Virginia Temple (she was called after the fair young colony which gave
+her birth) had just completed her nineteenth year. Reared for the most
+part in the retirement of the country, she was probably not possessed of
+those artificial manners, which disguise rather than adorn the gay
+butterflies that flutter in the fashionable world, and which passes for
+refinement; but such conventional proprieties no more resemble the
+innate refinement of soul which nature alone can impart, than the
+plastered rouge of an old faded dowager resembles the native rose which
+blushes on a healthful maiden's cheek. There was in lieu of all this, in
+the character of Virginia Temple, a freshness of feeling and artless
+frankness, and withal a refined delicacy of sentiment and expression,
+which made the fair young girl the pride and the ornament of the little
+circle in which she moved.</p>
+
+<p>Under the kind tuition of her father, who, in his retired life,
+delighted to train her mind in wholesome knowledge, she possessed a
+great advantage over the large majority of her sex, whose education, at
+that early period, was wofully deficient. Some there were indeed (and in
+this respect the world has not changed much in the last two centuries),
+who were tempted to sneer at accomplishments superior to their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> own, and
+to hint that a book-worm and a bluestocking would never make a useful
+wife. But such envious insinuations were overcome by the care of her
+judicious mother, who spared no pains to rear her as a useful as well as
+an accomplished woman. With such a fortunate education, Virginia grew up
+intelligent, useful and beloved; and her good old father used often to
+say, in his bland, gentle manner, that he knew not whether his little
+Jeanie was more attractive when, with her favorite authors, she stored
+her mind with refined and noble sentiments, or when, in her little check
+apron and plain gingham dress, she assisted her busy mother in the
+preparation of pickles and preserves.</p>
+
+<p>There was another source of happiness to the fair Virginia, in which she
+will be more apt to secure the sympathy of our gentler readers. Among
+the numerous suitors who sought her hand, was one who had early gained
+her heart, and with none of the cruel crosses, as yet, which the young
+and inexperienced think add piquancy to the bliss of love; with the full
+consent of her parents, she had candidly acknowledged her preference,
+and plighted her troth, with all the sincerity of her young heart, to
+the noble, the generous, the brave Thomas Hansford.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Heaven forming each on other to depend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A master, or a servant, or a friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bids each on other for assistance call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till one man's weakness grows the strength of all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wants, frailties, passions, closer still ally<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The common interest, or endear the tie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To these we owe true friendship, love sincere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each homefelt joy that life inherits here.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Essay on Man.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>Begirt with love and blessed with contentment, the little family at
+Windsor Hall led a life of quiet, unobtrusive happiness. In truth, if
+there be a combination of circumstances peculiarly propitious to
+happiness, it will be found to cluster around one of those old colonial
+plantations, which formed each within itself a little independent
+barony. There first was the proprietor, the feudal lord, proud of his
+Anglo-Saxon blood, whose ambition was power and personal freedom, and
+whose highest idea of wealth was in the possession of the soil he
+cultivated. A proud feeling was it, truly, to claim a portion of God's
+earth as his own; to stand upon his own land, and looking around, see
+his broad acres bounded only by the blue horizon walls,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> and feel in
+its full force the whole truth of the old law maxim, that he owned not
+only the surface of the soil, but even to the centre of the earth, and
+the zenith of the heavens.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> There can be but little doubt that the
+feelings suggested by such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> reflections are in the highest degree
+favorable to the development of individual freedom, so peculiar to the
+Anglo-Saxon race, and so stoutly maintained, especially among an
+agricultural people. This respect for the ownership of land is
+illustrated by the earliest legislation, which held sacred the title to
+the soil even from the grasp of the law, and which often restrained the
+freeholder from alienating his land from the lordly but unborn
+aristocrat to whom it should descend.</p>
+
+<p>Next in the scale of importance in this little baronial society, were
+the indented servants, who, either for felony or treason, were sent over
+to the colony, and bound for a term of years to some one of the
+planters. In some cases, too, the poverty of the emigrant induced him to
+submit voluntarily to indentures with the captain of the ship which
+brought him to the colony, as some compensation for his passage. These
+servants, we learn, had certain privileges accorded to them, which were
+not enjoyed by the slave: the service of the former was only temporary,
+and after the expiration of their term they became free citizens of the
+colony. The female servants, too, were limited in their duties to such
+employments as are generally assigned to women, such as cooking, washing
+and housework; while it was not unusual to see the negro women, as even
+now, in many portions of the State, managing the plough, hoeing the
+maize, worming and stripping the tobacco, and harvesting the grain. The
+colonists had long remonstrated against the system of indented servants,
+and denounced the policy which thus foisted upon an infant colony the
+felons and the refuse population of the mother country. But, as was too
+often the case, their petitions and remonstrances were treated with
+neglect, or spurned with contempt. Besides being distasteful to them as
+freemen and Cavaliers, the indented servants had already evinced a
+restlessness under restraint, which made them dangerous members of the
+body politic. In 1662, a servile insurrection was secretly organ<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>ized,
+which had well nigh proved fatal to the colony. The conspiracy was
+however betrayed by a certain John Berkenhead, one of the leaders in the
+movement, who was incited to the revelation by the hope of reward for
+his treachery; nor was the hope vain. Grateful for their deliverance,
+the Assembly voted this man his liberty, compensated his master for the
+loss of his services, and still further rewarded him by a bounty of five
+thousand pounds of tobacco. Of this reckless and abandoned wretch, we
+will have much to say hereafter.</p>
+
+<p>Another feature in this patriarchal system of government was the right
+of property in those inferior races of men, who from their nature are
+incapable of a high degree of liberty, and find their greatest
+development, and their truest happiness, in a condition of servitude.
+Liberty is at last a reward to be attained after a long struggle, and
+not the inherent right of every man. It is the sword which becomes a
+weapon of power and defence in the hands of the strong, brave, rational
+man, but a dangerous plaything when entrusted to the hands of madmen or
+children. And thus, by the mysterious government of Him, who rules the
+earth in righteousness, has it been wisely ordained, that they only who
+are worthy of freedom shall permanently possess it.</p>
+
+<p>The mutual relations established by the institution of domestic slavery
+were beneficial to both parties concerned. The Anglo-Saxon baron
+possessed power, which he has ever craved, and concentration and unity
+of will, which was essential to its maintenance. But that power was
+tempered, and that will controlled, by the powerful motives of policy,
+as well as by the dictates of justice and mercy. The African serf, on
+the other hand, was reduced to slavery, which, from his very nature, he
+is incapable of despising; and an implicit obedience to the will of his
+master was essential to the preservation of the relation. But he, too,
+derived benefits from the institution, which he has never acquired in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>
+any other condition; and trusting to the justice, and relying on the
+power of his master to provide for his wants, he lived a contented and
+therefore a happy life. Improvident himself by nature, his children were
+reared without his care, through the helpless period of infancy, while
+he was soothed and cheered in the hours of sickness, and protected and
+supported in his declining years. The history of the world does not
+furnish another example of a laboring class who could rely with
+confidence on such wages as competency and contentment.</p>
+
+<p>In a new colony, where there was but little attraction as yet, for
+tradesmen to emigrate, the home of the planter became still more
+isolated and independent. Every landholder had not only the slaves to
+cultivate his soil and to attend to his immediate wants, but he had also
+slaves educated and skilled in various trades. Thus, in this busy hive,
+the blaze of the forge was seen and the sound of the anvil was heard, in
+repairing the different tools and utensils of the farm; the shoemaker
+was found at his last, the spinster at her wheel, and the weaver at the
+loom. Nor has this system of independent reliance on a plantation for
+its own supplies been entirely superseded at the present day. There may
+still be found, in some sections of Virginia, plantations conducted on
+this principle, where the fleece is sheared, and the wool is carded,
+spun, woven and made into clothing by domestic labor, and where a few
+groceries and finer fabrics of clothing are all that are required, by
+the independent planter, from the busy world beyond his little domain.</p>
+
+<p>Numerous as were the duties and responsibilities that devolved upon the
+planter, he met them with cheerfulness and discharged them with
+faithfulness. The dignity of the master was blended with the kind
+attention of the friend on the one hand, and the obedience of the slave,
+with the fidelity of a grateful dependent, on the other. And thus was
+illustrated, in their true beauty, the blessings of that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> much abused
+but happy institution, which should ever remain, as it has ever been
+placed by the commentators of our law, next in position, as it is in
+interest, to the tender relation of parent and child.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The immense grants taken up by early patentees, in this country,
+justifies this language, which might otherwise seem an extravagant
+hyperbole.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Cujus est solum, ejus est usque ad cœlum.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“An old worshipful gentleman, who had a great estate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate,—<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With an old lady whose anger one word assuages,—<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Like an old courtier of the queen's,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">And the queen's old courtier.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Old Ballad.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>A pleasant home was that old Windsor Hall, with its broad fields in
+cultivation around it, and the dense virgin forest screening it from
+distant view, with the carefully shaven sward on the velvet lawn in
+front, and the tall forest poplars standing like sentries in front of
+the house, and the venerable old oak tree at the side, with the rural
+wooden bench beneath it, where Hansford and Virginia used to sit and
+dream of future happiness, while the tame birds were singing sweetly to
+their mates in the green branches above them. And the house, too, with
+its quaint old frame, its narrow windows, and its substantial furniture,
+all brought from England and put down here in this new land for the
+comfort of the loyal old colonist. It had been there for years, that old
+house, and the moss and lichen had fastened on its shelving roof, and
+the luxuriant vine had been trained to clamber closely by its sides,
+exposing its red trumpet flowers to the sun; while the gay humming-bird,
+with her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> pretty dress of green and gold, sucked their honey with her
+long bill, and fluttered her little wings in the mild air so swiftly
+that you could scarcely see them. Then there was that rude but
+comfortable old porch, destined to as many uses as the chest of drawers
+in the tavern of the Deserted Village. Protected by its sheltering roof
+alike from rain and sunshine, it was often used, in the mild summer
+weather, as a favorite sitting-room, and sometimes, too, converted into
+a dining-room. There, too, might be seen, suspended from the nails and
+wooden pegs driven into the locust pillars, long specimen ears of corn,
+samples of grain, and different garden seeds tied up in little linen
+bags; and in the strange medley, Mrs. Temple had hung some long strings
+of red pepper-pods, sovereign specifics in cases of sore throat, but
+which seemed, among so many objects of greater interest, to blush with
+shame at their own inferiority. It was not yet the season when the broad
+tobacco leaf, brown with the fire of curing, was exhibited, and formed
+the chief staple of conversation, as well as of trade, with the old
+crony planters. The wonderful plant was just beginning to suffer from
+the encroaches of the worm, the only animal, save man, which is
+life-proof against the deadly nicotine of this cultivated poison.</p>
+
+<p>In this old porch the little family was gathered on a beautiful evening
+towards the close of June, in the year 1676. The sun, not yet set, was
+just sinking below the tall forest, and was dancing and flickering
+gleefully among the trees, as if rejoicing that he had nearly finished
+his long day's journey. Colonel Temple had just returned from his
+evening survey of his broad fields of tobacco, and was quietly smoking
+his pipe, for, like most of his fellow colonists, he was an inveterate
+consumer of this home production. His good wife was engaged in knitting,
+an occupation now almost fallen into disuse among ladies, but then a
+very essential part of the duties of a large plantation. Virginia,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> with
+her tambour frame before her, but which she had neglected in the reverie
+of her own thoughts, was caressing the noble St. Bernard dog which lay
+at her feet, who returned her caresses by a grateful whine, as he licked
+the small white hand of his mistress. This dog, a fine specimen of that
+noble breed, was a present from Hansford, and for that reason, as well
+as for his intrinsic merits, was highly prized, and became her constant
+companion in her woodland rambles in search of health and wild flowers.
+With all the vanity of a conscious favorite, Nestor regarded with well
+bred contempt the hounds that stalked in couples about the yard, in
+anxious readiness for the next chase.</p>
+
+<p>As the young girl was thus engaged, there was an air of sadness in her
+whole mien—such a stranger to her usually bright, happy face, that it
+did not escape her father's notice.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, Jeanie,” he said, in the tender manner which he always used
+towards her, “you are strangely silent this evening. Has anything gone
+wrong with my little daughter?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, father,” she replied, “at least nothing that I am conscious of. We
+cannot be always gay or sad at our pleasure, you know.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, but at least,” said the old gentleman, “Nestor has been
+disobedient, or old Giles is sick, or you have been working yourself
+into a sentimental sadness over Lady Willoughby's<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> troubles.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, dear father; though, in reality, that melancholy story might well
+move a stouter heart than mine.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, confess then,” said her father, “that, like the young French
+gentleman in Prince Arthur's days, you are sad as night only for
+wantonness. But what say you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> mother, has anything gone wrong in
+household affairs to cross Virginia?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, Mr. Temple,” said the old lady. “Certainly, if Virginia is cast
+down at the little she has to do, I don't know what ought to become of
+me. But that's a matter of little consequence. Old people have had their
+day, and needn't expect much sympathy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed, dear mother,” said Virginia, “I do not complain of anything
+that I have to do. I know that you do not entrust as much to me as you
+ought, or as I wish. I assure you, that if anything has made me sad, it
+is not you, dear mother,” she added, as she tenderly kissed her mother.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I know that, my dear; but your father seems to delight in always
+charging me with whatever goes wrong. Goodness knows, I toil from Monday
+morning till Saturday night for you all, and this is all the thanks I
+get. And if I were to work my old fingers to the bone, it would be all
+the same. Well, it won't last always.”</p>
+
+<p>To this assault Colonel Temple knew the best plan was not to reply. He
+had learned from sad experience the truth of the old adages, that
+“breath makes fire hotter,” and that “the least said is soonest mended.”
+He only signified his consciousness of what had been said by a quiet
+shrug of the shoulders, and then resumed his conversation with Virginia.</p>
+
+<p>“Well then, my dear, I am at a loss to conjecture the cause of your
+sadness, and must throw myself upon your indulgence to tell me or not,
+as you will. I don't think you ever lost anything by confiding in your
+old father.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know I never did,” said Virginia, with a gentle sigh, “and it is for
+the very reason that you always make my foolish little sorrows your own,
+that I am unwilling to trouble you with them. But really, on the present
+occasion—I scarcely know what to tell you.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>“Then why that big pearl in your eye?” returned her father. “Ah, you
+little rogue, I have found you out at last. Mother, I have guessed the
+riddle. Somebody has not been here as often lately as he should. Now
+confess, you silly girl, that I have guessed your secret.”</p>
+
+<p>The big tears that swam in his daughter's blue eyes, and then rolling
+down, dried themselves upon her cheek, told the truth too plainly to
+justify denial.</p>
+
+<p>“I really think Virginia has some reason to complain,” said her mother.
+“It is now nearly three weeks since Mr. Hansford was here. A young
+lawyer's business don't keep him so much employed as to prevent these
+little courteous attentions.”</p>
+
+<p>“We used to be more attentive in our day, didn't we, old lady?” said
+Colonel Temple, as he kissed his good wife's cheek.</p>
+
+<p>This little demonstration entirely wiped away the remembrance of her
+displeasure. She returned the salutation with an affectionate smile, as
+she replied,</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, indeed, Henry; if there was less sentiment, there was more real
+affection in those days. Love was more in the heart then, and less out
+of books, than now.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, but we were not without our little sentiments, too. Virginia, it
+would have done you good to have seen how gaily your mother danced round
+the May-pole, with her courtly train, as the fair queen of them all; and
+how I, all ruffs and velvet, at the head of the boys, and on bended
+knee, begged her majesty to accept the homage of our loyal hearts. Don't
+you remember, Bessy, the grand parliament, when we voted you eight
+subsidies, and four fifteenths to be paid in flowers and candy, for your
+grand coronation?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes!” said the old lady; “and then the coronation itself, with the
+throne made of the old master's desk, all nicely carpeted and decorated
+with flowers and evergreen; and poor Billy Newton, with his long, solemn
+face, a paste-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>board mitre, and his sister's night-gown for a pontifical
+robe, acting the Archbishop of Canterbury, and placing the crown upon my
+head!”</p>
+
+<p>“And the game of Barley-break in the evening,” said the Colonel, fairly
+carried away by the recollections of these old scenes, “when you and I,
+hand in hand, pretended only to catch the rest, and preferred to remain
+together thus, in what we called the hell, because we felt that it was a
+heaven to us.”<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p>
+
+<p>“Oh, fie, for shame!” said the old lady. “Ah, well, they don't have such
+times now-a-days.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, indeed,” said her husband; “old Noll came with his nasal twang and
+puritanical cant, and dethroned May-queens as well as royal kings, and
+his amusements were only varied by a change from a hypocritical sermon
+to a psalm-singing conventicle.”</p>
+
+<p>Thus the old folks chatted on merrily, telling old stories, which,
+although Virginia had heard them a hundred times and knew them all by
+heart, she loved to hear again. She had almost forgotten her own sadness
+in this occupation of her mind, when her father said—</p>
+
+<p>“But, Bessy, we had almost forgotten, in our recollections of the past,
+that our little Jeanie needs cheering up. You should remember, my
+daughter, that if there were any serious cause for Mr. Hansford's
+absence, he would have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> written to you. Some trivial circumstance, or
+some matter of business, has detained him from day to day. He will be
+here to-morrow, I have no doubt.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know I ought not to feel anxious,” said Virginia, her lip quivering
+with emotion; “he has so much to do, not only in his profession, but his
+poor old mother needs his presence a great deal now; she was far from
+well when he was last here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I respect him for that,” said her mother. “It is too often the
+case with these young lovers, that when they think of getting married,
+and doing for themselves, the poor old mothers are laid on the shelf.”</p>
+
+<p>“And yet,” continued Virginia, “I have a kind of presentiment that all
+may not be right with him. I know it is foolish, but I can't—I can't
+help it?”</p>
+
+<p>“These presentiments, my child,” said her father, who was not without
+some of the superstition of the time, “although like dreams, often sent
+by the Almighty for wise purposes, are more often but the phantasies of
+the imagination. The mind, when unable to account for circumstances by
+reason, is apt to torment itself with its own fancy—and this is wrong,
+Jeanie.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know all this,” replied Virginia, “and yet have no power to prevent
+it. But,” she added, smiling through her tears, “I will endeavor to be
+more cheerful, and trust for better things.”</p>
+
+<p>“That's a good girl; I assure you I would rather hear you laugh once
+than to see you cry a hundred times,” said the old man, repeating a
+witticism that Virginia had heard ever since her childish trials and
+tears over broken dolls or tangled hair. The idea was so grotesque and
+absurd, that the sweet girl laughed until she cried again.</p>
+
+<p>“Besides,” added her father, “I heard yesterday that that pestilent
+fellow, Bacon, was in arms again, and it may be necessary for Berkeley
+to use some harsh means to pun<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>ish his insolence. I would not be at all
+surprised if Hansford were engaged in this laudable enterprise.”</p>
+
+<p>“God, in his mercy, forbid,” said Virginia, in a faint voice.</p>
+
+<p>“And why, my daughter? Would you shrink from lending the services of him
+you love to your country, in her hour of need?”</p>
+
+<p>“But the danger, father!”</p>
+
+<p>“There can be but little danger in an insurrection like this. Strong
+measures will soon suppress it. Nay, the very show of organized and
+determined resistance will strike terror into the white hearts of these
+cowardly knaves. But if this were not so, the duty would be only
+stronger.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, Virginia,” said her mother. “No one knows more than I, how hard it
+is for a woman to sacrifice her selfish love to her country. But in my
+day we never hesitated, and I was happy in my tears, when I saw your
+father going forth to fight for his king and country. There was none of
+your 'God forbid' then, and you need not expect to be more free from
+trials than those who have gone before you.”</p>
+
+<p>There was no real unkindness meant in this speech of Mrs. Temple, but,
+as we have before reminded the reader, she took especial delight in
+magnifying her own joys and her own trials, and in making an invidious
+comparison of the present day with her earlier life, always to the
+prejudice of the former. Tenderly devoted to her daughter, and deeply
+sympathizing in her distress, she yet could not forego the pleasure of
+reverting to the time when she too had similar misfortunes, which she
+had borne with such exemplary fortitude. To be sure, this heroism
+existed only in the dear old lady's imagination, for no one gave way to
+trials with more violent grief than she. Virginia, though accustomed to
+her mother's peculiar temper, was yet affected by her language, and her
+tears flowed afresh.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>“Cheer up, my daughter,” said her father, “these tears are not only
+unworthy of you, but they are uncalled for now. This is at last but
+conjecture of mine, and I have no doubt that Hansford is well and as
+happy as he can be away from you. But you would have proved a sad
+heroine in the revolution. I don't think you would imitate successfully
+the bravery and patriotism of Lady Willoughby, whose memoirs you have
+been reading. Oh! that was a day for heroism, when mothers devoted their
+sons, and wives their husbands, to the cause of England and of loyalty,
+almost without a tear.”</p>
+
+<p>“I thank God,” said the weeping girl, “that he has not placed me in such
+trying scenes. With all my admiration for the courage of my ancestors, I
+have no ambition to suffer their dangers and distress.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, my dear,” replied her father, “I trust you may never be called
+upon to do so. But if such should be your fate, I also trust that you
+have a strong heart, which would bear you through the trial. Come now,
+dry your tears, and let me hear you sing that old favorite of mine,
+written by poor Dick Lovelace. His Lucasta<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> must have been something
+of the same mind as my Virginia, if she reproved him for deserting her
+for honour.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, father, I feel the justice of your rebuke. I know that none but a
+brave woman deserves the love of a brave man. Will you forgive me?”</p>
+
+<p>“Forgive you, my daughter?—yes, if you have done anything to be
+forgiven. Your old father, though his head is turned gray, has still a
+warm place in his heart for all your distresses, my child; and that
+heart will be cold in death before it ceases to feel for you. But come,
+I must not lose my song, either.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>And Virginia, her sweet voice rendered more touchingly beautiful by her
+emotion, sang the noble lines, which have almost atoned for all the
+vanity and foppishness of their unhappy author.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If from the nunnery<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To war and arms I fly.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“True, a new mistress now I chase,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The first foe in the field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with a stronger faith embrace<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sword, the horse, the shield.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Yet, this inconstancy is such<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As you too shall adore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I had not loved thee, dear, so much,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Loved I not honour more!”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“Yes,” repeated the old patriot, as the last notes of the sweet voice
+died away; “yes, 'I had not loved thee, dear, so much, loved I not
+honour more!' This is the language of the truly noble lover. Without a
+heart which rises superior to itself, in its devotion to honour, it is
+impossible to love truly. Love is not a pretty child, to be crowned with
+roses, and adorned with trinkets, and wooed by soft music. To the truly
+brave, it is a god to be worshipped, a reward to be attained, and to be
+attained only in the path of honour!”</p>
+
+<p>“I think,” said Mrs. Temple, looking towards the wood, “that Virginia's
+song acted as an incantation. If I mistake not, Master Hansford is even
+now coming to explain his own negligence.”</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> I have taken these beautiful memoirs, now known to be the production
+of a modern pen, to be genuine. Their truthfulness to nature certainly
+will justify me in such a liberty.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The modern reader will need some explanation of this old game, whose
+terms seem, to the refined ears of the present day, a little profane.
+Barley-break resembled a game which I have seen played in my own time,
+called King Cantelope, but with some striking points of difference. In
+the old game, the play-ground was divided into three parts of equal
+size, and the middle of these sections was known by the name of hell.
+The boy and girl, whose position was in this place, were to attempt,
+with joined hands, to catch those who should try to pass from one
+section to the other. As each one was caught, he became a recruit for
+the couple in the middle, and the last couple who remained uncaught took
+the places of those in hell, and thus the game commenced again.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> The lady to whom the song is addressed. It may be found in Percy's
+Reliques, or in almost any volume of old English poetry.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dressed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fresh as a bridegroom.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Henry IV.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>In truth a young man, well mounted on a powerful bay, was seen
+approaching from the forest, that lay towards Jamestown. Virginia's
+cheek flushed with pleasure as she thought how soon all her fears would
+vanish away in the presence of her lover—and she laughed confusedly, as
+her father said,</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, come dry your tears, you little rogue—those eyes are not as
+bright as Hansford would like to see. Tears are very pretty in poetry
+and fancy, but when associated with swelled eyes and red noses, they
+lose something of their sentiment.”</p>
+
+<p>As the horseman came nearer, however, Virginia found to her great
+disappointment, that the form was not that of Hansford, and with a deep
+sigh she went into the house. The stranger, who now drew up to the door,
+proved to be a young man of about thirty years of age, tall and
+well-proportioned, his figure displaying at once symmetrical beauty and
+athletic strength. He was dressed after the fashion of the day, in a
+handsome velvet doublet, trussed with gay-colored points at the waist to
+the breeches, which reaching only to the knee, left the finely turned
+leg well displayed in the closely-fitting white silk stockings. Around
+his wrists and neck were revealed graceful ruffles of the finest
+cambric. The heavy boots, which were usually worn by cavaliers, were in
+this case supplied by shoes fastened with roses of ribands. A handsome
+sword, with orna<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>mented hilt, and richly chased scabbard, was secured
+gracefully by his side in its fringed hanger. The felt hat, whose wide
+brim was looped up and secured by a gold button in front, completed the
+costume of the young stranger. The abominable fashion of periwigs, which
+maintained its reign over the realm of fashion for nearly a century, was
+just beginning to be introduced into the old country, and had not yet
+been received as orthodox in the colony. The rich chestnut hair of the
+stranger fell in abundance over his fine shoulders, and was parted
+carefully in the middle to display to its full advantage his broad
+intellectual forehead. But in compliance with custom, his hair was
+dressed with the fashionable love-locks, plaited and adorned with
+ribands, and falling foppishly over either ear.</p>
+
+<p>But dress, at last, like “rank, is but the guinea's stamp, the man's the
+gowd for a' that,” and in outward appearance at least, the stranger was
+of no alloyed metal. There was in his air that easy repose and
+self-possession which is always perceptible in those whose life has been
+passed in association with the refined and cultivated. But still there
+was something about his whole manner, which seemed to betray the fact,
+that this habitual self-possession, this frank and easy carriage was the
+result of a studied and constant control over his actions, rather than
+those of a free and ingenuous heart.</p>
+
+<p>This idea, however, did not strike the simple minded Virginia, as with
+natural, if not laudable curiosity, she surveyed the handsome young
+stranger through the window of the hall. The kind greeting of the
+hospitable old colonel having been given, the stranger dismounted, and
+the fine bay that he rode was committed to the protecting care of a
+grinning young African in attendance, who with his feet dangling from
+the stirrups trotted him off towards the stable.</p>
+
+<p>“I presume,” said the stranger, as they walked towards<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> the house, “that
+from the directions I have received, I have the honor of seeing Colonel
+Temple. It is to the kindness of Sir William Berkeley that I owe the
+pleasure I enjoy in forming your acquaintance, sir,” and he handed a
+letter from his excellency, which the reader may take the liberty of
+reading with us, over Colonel Temple's shoulder.</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>“Bight trusty old friend,” ran the quaint and formal, yet familiar
+note. “The bearer of these, Mr. Alfred Bernard, a youth of good and
+right rare merit, but lately from England, and whom by the especial
+confidence reposed in him from our noble kinsman Lord Berkeley, we
+have made our private secretary, hath desired acquaintance with
+some of the established gentlemen in the colony, the better for his
+own improvement, to have their good society. And in all good faith,
+there is none, to whom I can more readily commend him, than Colonel
+Henry Temple, with the more perfect confidence in his desire to
+oblige him, who is always as of yore, his right good friend,</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="sig">
+<span class="sig2">“<span class="smcap">William Berkeley</span>, Kn't.</span><br />
+“<i>From our Palace at Jamestown, June 20, A. D. 1676.</i>”
+</p>
+
+<p>“It required not this high commendation, my dear sir,” said old Temple,
+pressing his guest cordially by the hand, “to bid you welcome to my poor
+roof. But I now feel that to be a special honour, which would otherwise
+be but the natural duty of hospitality. Come, right welcome to Windsor
+Hall.”</p>
+
+<p>With these words they entered the house, where Alfred Bernard was
+presented to the ladies, and paid his devoirs with such knightly grace,
+that Virginia admired, and Mrs. Temple heartily approved, a manner and
+bearing, which, she whispered to her daughter, was worthy of the old
+cavalier days before the revolution. Supper was soon announced—not the
+awkward purgatorial meal, perilously<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> poised in cups, and eaten with
+greasy fingers—so dire a foe to comfort and silk dresses—but the
+substantial supper of the olden time. It is far from our intention to
+enter into minute details, yet we cannot refrain from adverting to the
+fact that the good old cavalier grace was said by the Colonel, with as
+much solemnity as his cheerful face would wear—that grace which gave
+such umbrage to the Puritans with their sour visages and long prayers,
+and which consisted of those three expressive words, “God bless us.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have always thought,” said the Colonel, apologetically, “that this
+was enough—for where's the use of praying over our meals, until they
+get so cold and cheerless, that there is less to be thankful for.”</p>
+
+<p>“Especially,” said Bernard, chiming in at once with the old man's
+prejudices, “when this brief language contains all that is
+necessary—for even Omnipotence can but bless us—and we may easily
+leave the mode to Him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well said, young man, and now come and partake of our homely fare,
+seasoned with a hearty welcome,” said the Colonel, cordially.</p>
+
+<p>Nor loth was Alfred Bernard to do full justice to the ample store before
+him. A ride of more than thirty miles had whetted an appetite naturally
+good, and the youth of “right rare merit,” did not impress his kind host
+very strongly with his conversational powers during his hearty meal.</p>
+
+<p>The repast being over, the little party retired to a room, which the old
+planter was pleased to call his study, but which savored far more of the
+presence of the sportive Diana, than of the reflecting muses. Over the
+door, as you entered the room, were fastened the large antlers of some
+noble deer, who had once bounded freely and gracefully through his
+native forest. Those broad branches are now, by a sad fatality, doomed
+to support the well oiled fowling-piece that laid their wearer low.
+Fishing tackle,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> shot-pouches, fox brushes, and other similar evidences
+and trophies of sport, testified to the Colonel's former delight in
+angling and the chase; but now alas! owing to the growing infirmities of
+age, though he still cherished his pack, and encouraged the sport, he
+could only start the youngsters in the neighborhood, and give them God
+speed! as with horses, hounds, and horns they merrily scampered away in
+the fresh, early morning. But with his love for these active, manly
+sports, Colonel Temple was devoted to reading such works as ran with his
+prejudices, and savored of the most rigid loyalty. His books, indeed,
+were few, for in that day it was no easy matter to procure books at all,
+especially for the colonists, who cut off from the great fountain of
+literature which was then just reviving from the severe drought of
+puritanism, were but sparingly supplied with the means of information.
+But a few months later than the time of which we write, Sir William
+Berkeley boasted that education was at a low ebb in Virginia, and
+thanked his God that so far there were neither free schools nor printing
+presses in the colony—the first instilling and the last disseminating
+rebellious sentiments among the people. Yet under all these
+disadvantages, Colonel Temple was well versed in the literature of the
+last two reigns, and with some of the more popular works of the present.
+Shakspeare was his constant companion, and the spring to which he often
+resorted to draw supplies of wisdom. But Milton was held in especial
+abhorrence—for the prose writings of the eloquent old republican
+condemned unheard the sublime strains of his divine poem.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“A man in all the world's new fashion planted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That hath a mint of phrases in his brain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One, whom the music of his own vain tongue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth ravish like enchanting harmony;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A man of compliments.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Love's Labor Lost.</i></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>“Well, Mr. Bernard,” said the old Colonel as they entered the room,
+“take a seat, and let's have a social chat. We old planters don't get a
+chance often to hear the news from Jamestown, and I am afraid you will
+find me an inquisitive companion. But first join me in a pipe. There is
+no greater stimulant to conversation than the smoke of our Virginia
+weed.”</p>
+
+<p>“You must excuse me,” said Bernard, smiling, “I have not yet learned to
+smoke, although, if I remain in Virginia, I suppose I will have to
+contract a habit so general here.”</p>
+
+<p>“What, not smoke!” said the old man, in surprise. “Why tobacco is at
+once the calmer of sorrows, the assuager of excitement; the companion of
+solitude, the life of company; the quickener of fancy, the composer of
+thought.”</p>
+
+<p>“I had expected,” returned Bernard, laughing at his host's enthusiasm,
+“that so rigid a loyalist as yourself, would be a convert to King
+James's Counterblast. Have you never read that work of the royal
+pedant?”</p>
+
+<p>“Read it!” cried the Colonel, impetuously. “No! and what's more, with
+all my loyalty and respect for his memory, I would sooner light my pipe
+with a page of his Basilicon, than subscribe to the sentiments of his
+Counterblast.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, he had his supporters too,” replied Bernard, smiling. “You surely
+cannot have forgotten the song of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> Cucullus in the Lover's Melancholy;”
+and the young man repeated, with mock solemnity, the lines,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“They that will learn to drink a health in hell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must learn on earth to take tobacco well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For in hell they drink no wine, nor ale, nor beer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But fire and smoke and stench, as we do here.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“Well put, my young friend,” said Temple, laughing in his turn. “But you
+should remember that John Ford had to put such a sentiment in the mouth
+of a Bedlamite. Here, Sandy,” he added, kicking a little negro boy, who
+was nodding in the corner, dreaming, perhaps, of the pleasures of the
+next 'possum hunt, “Run to the kitchen, Sandy, and bring me a coal of
+fire.”</p>
+
+<p>“And, now, Mr. Bernard, what is the news political and social in the big
+world of Jamestown?”</p>
+
+<p>“Much to interest you in both respects. It is indeed a part of my duty
+in this visit, to request that you and the ladies will be present at a
+grand masque ball to be given on Lady Frances's birth-night.”</p>
+
+<p>“A masque in Virginia!” exclaimed the Colonel, “that will be a novelty
+indeed! But the Governor has not the opportunity or the means at hand to
+prepare it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes!” replied Bernard, “we have all determined to do our best. The
+assembly will be in session, and the good burgesses will aid us, and at
+any rate if we cannot eclipse old England, we must try to make up in
+pleasure, what is wanting in brilliancy. I trust Miss Temple will aid us
+by her presence, which in itself will add both pleasure and brilliancy
+to the occasion.”</p>
+
+<p>Virginia blushed slightly at the compliment, and replied—</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed, Mr. Bernard, the presence which you seem to esteem so highly
+depends entirely on my father's permission—but I will unite with you in
+urging that as it is a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> novelty to me, he will not deny his assent. I
+should like of all things to go.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, my daughter, as you please—but what says mother to the plan? You
+know she is not queen consort only, and she must be consulted.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am sure, Colonel Temple,” said the good lady, “that I do as much to
+please Virginia as you can. To be sure, a masque in Virginia can afford
+but little pleasure to me, who have seen them in all their glory in
+England, but I have no doubt it will be all well enough for the young
+people, and I am always ready to contribute to their amusement.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know that, my dear, and Jeanie can testify to it as well as I. But,
+Mr. Bernard, what is to be the subject of this masque, and who is the
+author, or are we to have a rehash of rare Ben Jonson's Golden Age?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is to be a kind of parody of that, or rather a burlesque;” replied
+Bernard, “and is designed to hail the advent of the Restoration, a theme
+worthy of the genius of a Shakspeare, though, unfortunately, it is now
+in far humbler hands.”</p>
+
+<p>“A noble subject, truly,” said the Colonel, “and from your deprecating
+air, I have no doubt that we are to be indebted to your pen for its
+production.”</p>
+
+<p>“Partly, sir,” returned Bernard, with an assumption of modesty. “It is
+the joint work of Mr. Hutchinson, the chaplain of his excellency, and
+myself.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! Mr. Bernard, are you a poet,” cried the old lady in admiration;
+“this is really an honour. Mr. Temple used to write verses when we were
+young, and although they were never printed, they were far prettier than
+a great deal of the lovesick nonsense that they make such a fuss about.
+I was always begging him to publish, but he never would push himself
+forward, like others with not half his merit.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>“I do not pretend to any merit, my dear madam,” said Bernard, “but I
+trust that with my rigid loyalty, and parson Hutchinson's rigid
+episcopacy, the roundhead puritans will not meet with more favour than
+they deserve. Neither of us have been long enough in the colony to have
+learned from observation the taste of the Virginians, but there is
+abundant evidence on record that they were the last to desert the cause
+of loyalty, and to submit to the sway of the puritan Protector.”</p>
+
+<p>“Right, my friend, and she ever will be, or else old Henry Temple will
+seek out some desolate abode untainted with treason wherein to drag out
+the remainder of his days.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your loyalty was never more needed,” said Bernard; “for Virginia, I
+fear, will yet be the scene of a rebellion, which may be but the brief
+epitome of the revolution.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, you refer to this Baconian movement. I had heard that the
+demagogue was again in arms. But surely you cannot apprehend any danger
+from such a source.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I trust not; and yet the harmless worm, if left to grow, may
+acquire fangs. Bacon is eloquent and popular, and has already under his
+standard some of the very flower of the colony. He must be crushed and
+crushed at once; and yet I fear the worst from the clemency and delay of
+Sir William Berkeley.”</p>
+
+<p>“Tell me; what is his ground of quarrel?” asked Temple.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, simply that having taken up arms against the Indians without
+authority, and enraging them by his injustice and cruelty, the governor
+required him to disband the force he had raised. He peremptorily
+refused, and demanded a commission from the governor as general-in-chief
+of the forces of Virginia to prosecute this unholy war.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why unholy?” asked the Colonel. “Rebellious as was his conduct in
+refusing to lay down his arms at the command of the governor, yet I do
+not see that it should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> be deemed unholy to chastise the insolence of
+these savages.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will tell you, then,” replied Bernard. “His avowed design was to
+avenge the murder of a poor herdsman by a chief of the Doeg tribe.
+Instead of visiting his vengeance upon the guilty, he turned his whole
+force against the Susquehannahs, a friendly tribe of Indians, and chased
+them like sheep into one of their forts. Five of the Indians relying on
+the boasted chivalry of the whites, came out of the fort unarmed, to
+inquire the cause of this unprovoked attack. They were answered by a
+charge of musketry, and basely murdered in cold blood.”</p>
+
+<p>“Monstrous!” cried Temple, with horror. “Such infidelity will incense
+the whole Indian race against us and involve the country in another
+general war.”</p>
+
+<p>“Exactly so,” returned Bernard, “and such is the governor's opinion; but
+besides this, it is suspected, and with reason too, that this Indian war
+is merely a pretext on the part of Bacon and a few of his followers, to
+cover a deeper and more criminal design. The insolent demagogue prates
+openly about equal rights, freedom, oppression of the mother country,
+and such dangerous themes, and it is shrewdly thought that, in his wild
+dreams of liberty, he is taking Cromwell for his model. He has all of
+the villainy of the old puritan, and a good deal of his genius and
+ability. But I beg pardon, ladies, all this politics cannot be very
+palatable to a lady's taste. We will certainly expect you, Mrs. Temple,
+to be present at the masque; and if Miss Virginia would prefer not to
+play her part in the exhibition, she may still be there to cheer us with
+her smiles. I can speak for the taste of all gallant young Virginians,
+that they will readily pardon her for not concealing so fair a face
+beneath a mask.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, I can easily see that you are but lately from England,” said Mrs.
+Temple, delighted with the gallantry of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> the young man. “Your speech,
+fair sir, savours far more of the manners of the court than of these
+untutored forests. Alas! it reminds me of my own young days.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Mr. Bernard,” said the Colonel, interrupting his wife in a
+reminiscence, which bid fair to exhaust no brief time, “you will find
+that we have only transplanted old English manners to another soil.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“'Cœlum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt.'”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“I am glad to see,” said Bernard, casting an admiring glance at
+Virginia, “that this new soil you speak of, Colonel Temple, is so
+favourably adapted to the growth of the fairest flowers.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you must be jesting, Mr. Bernard,” said the old lady, “for although
+I am always begging Virginia to pay more attention to the garden, there
+are scarcely any flowers there worth speaking of, except a few roses
+that I planted with my own hands, and a bed of violets.”</p>
+
+<p>“You mistake me, my dear madam,” returned Bernard, still gazing on
+Virginia with an affectation of rapture, “the roses to which I refer
+bloom on fair young cheeks, and the violets shed their sweetness in the
+depths of those blue eyes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you are at your poetry, are you?” said the old lady.</p>
+
+<p>“Not if poetry extends her sway only over the realm of fiction,” said
+Bernard, laying his hand upon his heart.</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed, Mr. Bernard,” said Virginia, not displeased at flattery, which
+however gross it may appear to modern ears, was common with young
+cavaliers in former days, and relished by the fair damsels, “I have been
+taught that flowers flourish far better in the cultivated parterre, than
+in the wild woods. I doubt not that, like Orlando, you are but playing
+off upon a stranger the sentiments, which, in reality, you reserve for
+some faithful Rosalind whom you have left in England.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>“You now surprise me, indeed,” returned Bernard, “for do you know that
+among all the ladies that grace English society, there are but few who
+ever heard of Rosalind or her Orlando, and know as little of the forest
+of Ardennes as of your own wild forests in Virginia.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have heard,” said the Colonel, “that old Will Shakspeare and his
+cotemporaries—peers he has none—have been thrown aside for more modern
+writers, and I fear that England has gained nothing by the exchange. Who
+is now your prince of song?”</p>
+
+<p>“There is a newly risen wit and poet, John Dryden by name, who seems to
+bear the palm undisputed. Waller is old now, and though he still writes,
+yet he has lost much of his popularity by his former defection from the
+cause of loyalty.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, for my part, give me old wine, old friends and old poets,” said
+the Colonel. “I confess I like a bard to be consecrated by the united
+plaudits of two or three generations, before I can give him my ready
+admiration.”</p>
+
+<p>“I should think your acquaintance with Horace would have taught you the
+fallacy of that taste,” said Bernard. “Do you not remember how the old
+Roman laureate complains of the same prejudice existing in his own day,
+and argues that on such a principle merit could be accorded to no poet,
+for all must have their admirers among cotemporaries, else their works
+would pass into oblivion, before their worth were fairly tested?”</p>
+
+<p>“I cannot be far wrong in the present age at least,” said Temple, “from
+what I learn and from what I have myself seen, the literature of the
+present reign is disgraced by the most gross and libertine sentiments.
+As the water of a healthful stream if dammed up, stagnates and becomes
+the fruitful source of unwholesome malaria, and then, when released,
+rushes forward, spreading disease and death in its course, so the
+liberal feelings and manners of old England,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> restrained by the rigid
+puritanism of the Protectorate, at last burst forth in a torrent of
+disgusting and diseased libertinism.”</p>
+
+<p>Bernard had not an opportunity of replying to this elaborate simile of
+the good old Colonel, which, like Fadladeen, he had often used and still
+reserved for great occasions. Further conversation was here interrupted
+by a new arrival, which in this case, much to the satisfaction of the
+fair Virginia, proved to be the genuine Hansford.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i14">“Speak of Mortimer!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Want mercy, if I do not join with him.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Henry IV.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>Thomas Hansford, in appearance and demeanour, lost nothing in comparison
+with the accomplished Bernard. He certainly did not possess in so high a
+degree the easy assurance which characterized the young courtier, but
+his self-confidence, blended with a becoming modesty, and his open,
+ingenuous manners, fully compensated for the difference. There was that
+in his clear blue eye and pleasant smile which inspired confidence in
+all whom he approached. Modest and unobtrusive in his expressions of
+opinion, he was nevertheless firm in their maintenance when announced,
+and though deferential to superiors in age and position, and respectful
+to all, he was never servile or obsequious.</p>
+
+<p>The same kind of difference might be traced in the dress of the two
+young men, as in their manners. With none of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> the ostentatious display,
+which we have described as belonging to the costume of Bernard, the
+attire of Hansford was plain and neat. He was dressed in a grey doublet
+and breeches, trussed with black silk points. His long hose were of
+cotton, and his shoes were fastened, not with the gay colored ribbons
+before described, but with stout leather thongs, such as are still often
+used in the dress of a country gentleman. His beaver was looped with a
+plain black button, in front, displaying his fair hair, which was
+brushed plainly back from his forehead. He, too, wore a sword by his
+side, but it was fastened, not by handsome fringe and sash, but by a
+plain belt around his waist. It seemed as though it were worn more for
+use than ornament. We have been thus particular in describing the dress
+of these two young men, because, as we have hinted, the contrast
+indicated the difference in their characters—a difference which will,
+however, more strikingly appear in the subsequent pages of this
+narrative.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, my boy,” said old Temple, heartily, “I am glad to see you; you
+have been a stranger among us lately, but are none the less welcome on
+that account. Yet, faith, lad, there was no necessity for whetting our
+appetite for your company by such a long absence.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have been detained on some business of importance,” replied Hansford,
+with some constraint in his manner. “I am glad, however, my dear sir,
+that I have not forfeited my welcome by my delay, for no one, I assure
+you, has had more cause to regret my absence than myself.”</p>
+
+<p>“Better late than never, my boy,” said the Colonel. “Come, here is a new
+acquaintance of ours, to whom I wish to introduce you. Mr. Alfred
+Bernard, Mr. Hansford.”</p>
+
+<p>The young men saluted each other respectfully, and Hansford passed on to
+“metal more attractive.” Seated once more by the side of his faithful
+Virginia, he forgot the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> presence of all else, and the two lovers were
+soon deep in conversation, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>“I hope your absence was not caused by your mother's increased
+sickness,” said Virginia.</p>
+
+<p>“No, dearest, the old lady's health is far better than it has been for
+some time. But I have many things to tell you which will surprise, if
+they do not please you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you have no idea what a fright father gave me this evening,” said
+Virginia. “He told me that you had probably been engaged by the governor
+to aid in suppressing this rebellion. I fancied that there were already
+twenty bullets through your body, and made a little fool of myself
+generally. But if I had known that you were staying away from me so long
+without any good reason, I would not have been so silly, I assure you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your care for me, dear girl, is very grateful to my feelings, and
+indeed it makes me very sad to think that I may yet be the cause of so
+much unhappiness to you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, come now,” said the laughing girl, “don't be sentimental. You men
+think very little of ladies, if you suppose that we are incapable of
+listening to anything but flattery. Now, there's Mr. Bernard has been
+calling me flowers, and roses, and violets, ever since he came. For my
+part, I would rather be loved as a woman, than admired as all the
+flowers that grow in the world.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who is this Mr. Bernard?” asked Hansford.</p>
+
+<p>“He is the Governor's private secretary, and a very nice fellow he seems
+to be, too. He has more poetry at his finger's ends than you or I ever
+read, and he is very handsome, don't you think so?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is very well that I did not prolong my absence another day,” said
+Hansford, “or else I might have found my place in your heart supplied by
+this foppish young fribble.”<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>“Nay, now, if you are going to be jealous, I will get angry,” said
+Virginia, trying to pout her pretty lips. “But say what you will about
+him, he is very smart, and what's more, he writes poetry as well as
+quotes it.”</p>
+
+<p>“And has he told you of all his accomplishments so soon?” said Hansford,
+smiling; “for I hardly suppose you have seen a volume of his works,
+unless he brought it here with him. What else can he do? Perhaps he
+plays the flute, and dances divinely; and may-be, but for 'the vile
+guns, he might have been a soldier.' He looks a good deal like Hotspur's
+dandy to my eyes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, don't be so ill-natured,” said Virginia, “He never would have told
+about his writing poetry, but father guessed it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your father must have infinite penetration then,” said Hansford, “for I
+really do not think the young gentleman looks much as though he could
+tear himself from the mirror long enough to use his pen.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, but he has written a masque, to be performed day-after-to-morrow
+night, at the palace, to celebrate Lady Frances' birth-day. Are you not
+going to the ball. Of course you'll be invited.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, dearest,” said Hansford, with a sigh. “Sir William Berkeley might
+give me a more unwelcome welcome than to a masque.”</p>
+
+<p>“What on earth do you mean?” said Virginia, turning pale with alarm.
+“You have not—”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, you shall know all to-morrow,” replied Hansford.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom,” cried Colonel Temple, in his loud, merry voice, “stop cooing
+there, and tell me where you have been all this time. I'll swear, boy, I
+thought you had been helping Berkeley to put down that d—d renegade,
+Bacon.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am surprised,” said Hansford, with a forced, but uneasy smile, “that
+you should suppose the Governor had entrusted an affair of such moment
+to me.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>“Zounds, lad,” said the Colonel, “I never dreamed that you were at the
+head of the expedition. Oh, the vanity of youth! No, I suppose my good
+friends, Colonel Ludwell and Major Beverley, are entrusted with the
+lead. But I thought a subordinate office—”</p>
+
+<p>“You are mistaken altogether, Colonel,” said Hansford. “The business
+which detained me from Windsor Hall had nothing to do with the
+suppression of this rebellion, and indeed I have not been in Jamestown
+for some weeks.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, keep your own counsel then, Tom; but I trust it was at least
+business connected with your profession. I like to see a young lawyer
+give his undivided attention to business. But I doubt me, Tom, that you
+cheat the law out of some of the six hours that Lord Coke has allotted
+to her.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have, indeed, been attending to the preparation of a cause of some
+importance,” said Hansford.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I'm glad of it, my boy. Who is your client? I hope he gives you a
+good retainer.”</p>
+
+<p>“My fee is chiefly contingent,” replied the young lawyer, sorely pressed
+by the questions of the curious old Colonel.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, you are very laconic,” returned Temple, trying to enlist him in
+conversation. “Come, tell me all about it. I used to be something of a
+lawyer myself in my youth, didn't I, Bessy?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, indeed,” said his wife, who was nearly dozing over her eternal
+knitting; “and if you had stuck to your profession, and not mingled in
+politics, my dear, we would have been much better off. You know I always
+told you so.”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe you did, Bessy,” said the Colonel. “But what's done can't be
+undone. Take example by me, Tom, d'ye hear, and never meddle in
+politics, my boy. But I believe I retain some cobwebs of law in my brain
+yet, and I might help you in your case. Who is your client?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>“The Colony is one of the parties to the cause,” replied Hansford; “but
+the details cannot interest the ladies, you know; I will confer with you
+some other time on the subject, and will be very happy to have your
+advice.”</p>
+
+<p>All this time, Alfred Bernard had been silently watching the countenance
+of Hansford, and the latter had been unpleasantly conscious of the fact.
+As he made the last remark, he saw the keen eyes of Bernard resting upon
+him with such an expression of suspicion, that he could not avoid
+wincing. Bernard had no idea of losing the advantage which he thus
+possessed, and with wily caution he prepared a snare for his victim,
+more sure of success than an immediate attack would have been.</p>
+
+<p>“I think I have heard something of the case,” he said, fixing a
+penetrating glance on Hansford as he spoke, “and I agree with Mr.
+Hansford, that its details here would not be very interesting to the
+ladies. By the way, Colonel, your conjecture, that Mr. Hansford was
+employed in the suppression of the rebellion, reminds me of a
+circumstance that I had almost forgotten to mention. You have heard of
+that fellow Bacon's perjury—”</p>
+
+<p>“Perjury!” exclaimed the Colonel. “No! on the contrary I had been given
+to understand that, with all his faults, his personal honour was so far
+unstained, even with suspicion.”</p>
+
+<p>“Such was the general impression,” returned Bernard, “but it is now
+proven that he is as capable of the greatest perfidy as of the most
+daring treason.”</p>
+
+<p>“You probably refer, sir, to an affair,” said Hansford, “of which I have
+some knowledge, and on which I may throw some light which will be more
+favorable to Mr. Bacon.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your being able to conjecture so easily the fact to which I allude,”
+said Bernard, “is in itself an evidence that the general impression of
+his conduct is not so erroneous. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> am happy,” he added, with a sneer,
+“that in this free country, a rebel even can meet with so disinterested
+a defender.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you refer, Mr. Bernard,” replied Hansford, disregarding the manner
+of Bernard, “to the alleged infraction of his parole, I can certainly
+explain it. I know that Colonel Temple does not, and I hope that you do
+not, wish deliberately to do any man an injustice, even if he be a foe
+or a rebel.”</p>
+
+<p>“That's true, my boy,” said the generous old Temple. “Give the devil his
+due, even he is not as black as he is painted. That's my maxim. How was
+it, Tom? And begin at the beginning, that's the only way to straighten a
+tangled skein.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then, as I understand the story,” said Hansford, in a slow, distinct,
+voice, “it is this:—After Mr. Bacon returned to Henrico from his
+expedition against the Indians, he was elected to the House of
+Burgesses. On attempting to go down the river to Jamestown, to take his
+seat, he was arrested by Captain Gardiner, on a charge of treason, and
+brought as a prisoner before Sir William Berkeley. The Governor,
+expressing himself satisfied with his disclaimer and open recantation of
+any treasonable design, released him from imprisonment on parole, and,
+as is reported, promised at the same time to grant him the commission he
+desired. Mr. Bacon, hearing of the sickness of his wife, returned to
+Henrico, and while there, secret warrants were issued to arrest him
+again. Upon a knowledge of this fact he refused to surrender himself
+under his parole.”</p>
+
+<p>“You have made a very clear case of it, if the facts be true,” said
+Bernard, in a taunting tone, “and seem to be well acquainted with the
+motives and movements of the traitor. I have no doubt there are many
+among his deluded followers who fail to appreciate the full force of a
+parole d'honneur.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sir!” said Hansford, his face flushing with indignation.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>“I only remarked,” said Bernard, in reply, “that a traitor to his
+country knows but little of the laws which govern honourable men. My
+remark only applied to traitors, and such I conceive the followers and
+supporters of Nathaniel Bacon to be.”</p>
+
+<p>Hansford only replied with a bow.</p>
+
+<p>“And so does Tom,” said Temple, “and so do we all, Mr. Bernard. But
+Hansford knew Bacon before this late movement of his, and he is very
+loth to hear his old friend charged with anything that he does not
+deserve. But see, my wife there is nodding over her knitting, and
+Jeanie's pretty blue eyes, I know, begin to itch. Our motto is, Mr.
+Bernard, to go to bed with the chickens and rise with the lark. But we
+have failed in the first to-night, and I reckon we will sleep a little
+later than lady lark to-morrow. So, to bed, to bed, my lord.”</p>
+
+<p>So saying, the hospitable old gentleman called a servant to show the
+gentlemen to their separate apartments.</p>
+
+<p>“You will be able to sleep in an old planter's cabin, Mr. Bernard,” he
+said, “where you will find all clean and comfortable, although perhaps a
+little rougher than you are accustomed to. Tom, boy, you know the ways
+of the house, and I needn't apologize to you. And so pleasant dreams and
+a good night to you both.”</p>
+
+<p>After the Colonel had gone, and before the servant had appeared,
+Hansford touched Bernard lightly on the shoulder. The latter turned
+around with some surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“You must be aware, Mr. Bernard,” said Hansford, “that your language
+to-night remained unresented only because of my respect for the company
+in which we were.”</p>
+
+<p>“I did not deem it of sufficient importance,” replied Bernard, assuming
+an indifferent tone, “to inquire whether your motives for silence were
+respect for the family or regard for yourself.”</p>
+
+<p>“You now at least know, sir. Let me ask you whether<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> you made the remark
+to which I refer with a full knowledge of who I was, and what were my
+relations towards Mr. Bacon.”</p>
+
+<p>“I decline making any explanation of language which, both in manner and
+expression, was sufficiently intelligible.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then, sir,” said Hansford, resolutely, “there is but one reparation
+that you can make,” and he laid his hand significantly on his sword.</p>
+
+<p>“I understand you,” returned Bernard, “but do not hold myself
+responsible to a man whose position in society may be more worthy of my
+contempt than of my resentment.”</p>
+
+<p>“The company in which you found me, and the gentleman who introduced us,
+are sufficient guarantees of my position. If under these circumstances
+you refuse, you take advantage of a subterfuge alike unworthy of a
+gentleman or a brave man.”</p>
+
+<p>“Even this could scarcely avail you, since the family are not aware of
+the treason by which you have forfeited any claim to their protection.
+But I waive any such objection, sir, and accept your challenge.”</p>
+
+<p>“Being better acquainted with the place than yourself,” said Hansford,
+“I would suggest, sir, that there is a little grove in rear of the
+barn-yard, which is a fit spot for our purpose. There will there be no
+danger of interruption.”</p>
+
+<p>“As you please, sir,” replied Bernard. “To-morrow morning, then, at
+sunrise, with swords, and in the grove you speak of.”</p>
+
+<p>The servant entered the room at this moment, and the two young men
+parted for the night, having thus settled in a few moments the
+preliminaries of a mortal combat, with as much coolness as if it had
+been an agreement for a fox-hunt.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> A coxcomb, a popinjay.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“'We try this quarrel hilt to hilt.'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then each at once his falchion drew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each on the ground his scabbard threw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As what they ne'er might see again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then foot, and point, and eye opposed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In dubious strife they darkly closed.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i24"><i>Lady of the Lake.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>It is a happy thing for human nature that the cares, and vexations, and
+fears, of this weary life, are at least excluded from the magic world of
+sleep. Exhausted nature will seek a respite from her trials in
+forgetfulness, and steeped in the sacred stream of Lethe, like the young
+Achilles, she becomes invulnerable. It is but seldom that care dares
+intrude upon this quiet realm, and though it may be truly said that
+sleep “swift on her downy pinions flies from woe,” yet, when at last it
+does alight on the lid sullied by a tear, it rests as quietly as
+elsewhere. We have scarcely ever read of an instance where the last
+night of a convict was not passed in tranquil slumber, as though Sleep,
+the sweet sister of the dread Terror, soothed more tenderly, in this
+last hour, the victim of her gloomy brother's dart.</p>
+
+<p>Thomas Hansford, for with him our story remains, slept as calmly on this
+night as though a long life of happiness and fame stretched out before
+his eyes. 'Tis true, that ere he went to bed, as he unbelted his trusty
+sword, he looked at its well-tempered steel with a confident eye, and
+thought of the morrow. But so fully imbued were the youth of that iron
+age with the true spirit of chivalry, that life was but little regarded
+where honour was concerned, and the precarious tenure by which life was
+held, made it less prized by those who felt that they might be called on
+any day to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> surrender it. Hansford, therefore, slept soundly, and the
+first red streaks of the morning twilight were smiling through his
+window when he awoke. He rose, and dressing himself hastily, he repaired
+to the study, where he wrote a few hasty lines to his mother and to
+Virginia—the first to assure her of his filial love, and to pray her
+forgiveness for thus sacrificing life for honour; and the second
+breathing the warm ardour of his heart for her who, during his brief
+career, had lightened the cares and shared the joys which fortune had
+strewn in his path. As he folded these two letters and placed them in
+his pocket, he could not help drawing a deep sigh, to think of these two
+beings whose fate was so intimately entwined with his own, and whose
+thread of life would be weakened when his had been severed. Repelling
+such a thought as unworthy a brave man engaged in an honourable cause,
+he buckled on his sword and repaired with a firm step to the place of
+meeting. Alfred Bernard, true to his word, was there.</p>
+
+<p>And now the sun was just rising above the green forest, to the eastward.
+The hands, as by a striking metonymy those happy laborers were termed,
+who never knew the cares which environ the head, were just going out to
+their day's work. Men, women and children, some to plough the corn, and
+one a merry teamster, who, with his well attended team, was driving to
+the woods for fuel. And in the barn-yard were the sleek milch cows,
+smelling fresh with the dewy clover from the meadow, and their hides
+smoking with the early dew of morning; and the fowls, that strutted and
+clucked, and cackled, in the yard, all breakfasting on the scanty grains
+that had fallen from the horse-troughs—all save one inquisitive old
+rooster, who, flapping his wings and mounting the fence to crow, eyed
+askant the two young men, as though, a knight himself, he guessed their
+bloody intent. And the birds, too, those joyous, happy beings, who pass
+their life in singing, shook the fresh dew from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> their pretty wings,
+cleared their throats in the bracing air, and like the pious Persian,
+pouring forth their hymn of praise to the morning sun, fluttered away to
+search for their daily food. All was instinct with happiness and beauty.
+All were seeking to preserve the life which God had given but two, and
+they stood there, in the bright, dewy morning, to stain the fair robe of
+nature with blood. It is a sad thought, that of all the beings who
+rejoice in life, he alone, who bears the image of his Maker, should have
+wandered from His law.</p>
+
+<p>The men saluted one another coldly as Hansford approached, and Bernard
+said, with a firm voice, “You see, sir, I have kept my appointment. I
+believe nothing remains but to proceed.”</p>
+
+<p>“You must excuse me for again suggesting,” said Hansford, “that we wait
+a few moments, until these labourers are out of sight. We might be
+interrupted.”</p>
+
+<p>Bernard silently acquiesced, and the combatants stood at a short
+distance apart, each rapt in his own reflections. What those reflections
+were may be easily imagined. Both were young men of talent and promise.
+The one, the favourite of Sir William Berkeley, saw fame and distinction
+awaiting him in the colony. The other, the beloved of the people, second
+only to Bacon in their affections, and by that great leader esteemed as
+a friend and entrusted as a confidant, had scarce less hope in the
+future. The one a stranger, almost unknown in the colony, with little to
+care for in the world but self; the other the support of an aged mother,
+and the pride of a fair and trusting girl—the strong rock, on whose
+protection the grey lichen of age had rested, and around which the green
+tendrils of love entwined. Both men of erring hearts, who in a few
+moments might be summoned to appear at that dread bar, where all the
+secrets of their hearts are known, and all the actions of their lives
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>are judged. The two combatants were nearly equally matched in the use
+of the sword. Bernard's superior skill in fence being fully compensated
+by the superior coolness of his adversary.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the last labourer had disappeared, both swords flashed in the
+morning sun. The combat was long, and the issue doubtful. Each seemed so
+conscious of the skill of the other, that both acted chiefly on the
+defensive. But the protracted length of the fight turned to the
+advantage of Hansford, who, from his early training and hardy exercise,
+was more accustomed to endure fatigue. Bernard became weary of a contest
+of such little interest, and at last, forgetting the science in which he
+was a complete adept, he made a desperate lunge at the breast of the
+young colonist. This thrust Hansford parried with such success, that he
+sent the sword of his adversary flying through the air. In attempting to
+regain possession of his sword, Bernard's foot slipped, and he fell
+prostrate to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“Now yield you,” cried the victor, as he stood above the prostrate form
+of his antagonist, “and take back the foul stain which you have placed
+upon my name, or, by my troth, you had else better commend yourself to
+Heaven.”</p>
+
+<p>“I cannot choose but yield,” said Bernard, rising slowly from the
+ground, while his face was purple with rage and mortification. “But look
+ye, sir rebel, if but I had that good sword once more in my hand, I
+would prove that I can yet maintain my honour and my life against a
+traitor's arm. I take my life at your hands, but God do so to me, and
+more also, if the day do not come when you will wish that you had taken
+it while it was in your power. The life you give me shall be devoted to
+the one purpose of revenge.”</p>
+
+<p>“As you please,” said Hansford, eyeing him with an expression of bitter
+contempt. “Meantime, as you value your life, dedicated to so unworthy an
+object, let me hear no more of your insolence.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>“Nay, by my soul,” cried Bernard, “I will not bear your taunts. Draw and
+defend yourself!” At the same time, with an active spring, he regained
+possession of his lost sword. But just as they were about to renew the
+attack, there appeared upon the scene of action a personage so strange
+in appearance, and so wild in dress, that Bernard dropped his weapon in
+surprise, and with a vacant stare gazed upon the singular apparition.</p>
+
+<p>The figure was that of a young girl, scarce twenty years of age, whose
+dark copper complexion, piercing black eyes, and high cheek bones, all
+proclaimed her to belong to that unhappy race which had so long held
+undisputed possession of this continent. Her dress was fantastic in the
+highest degree. Around her head was a plait of peake, made from those
+shells which were used by the Indians at once as their roanoke, or
+money, and as their most highly prized ornament of dress. A necklace and
+bracelets of the same adorned her neck and arms. A short smock, made of
+dressed deer-skin, which reached only to her knees, and was tightly
+fitted around the waist with a belt of wampum, but scantily concealed
+the swelling of her lovely bosom. Her legs, from the knee to the ancle,
+were bare, and her feet were covered with buckskin sandals, ornamented
+with beads, such as are yet seen in our western country, as the
+handiwork of the remnant of this unhappy race. Such a picturesque
+costume well became the graceful form that wore it. Her long, dark hair,
+which, amid all these decorations, was her loveliest ornament, fell
+unbound over her shoulders in rich profusion. As she approached, with
+light and elastic step, towards the combatants, Bernard, as we have
+said, dropped his sword in mute astonishment. It is true, that even in
+his short residence in Virginia, he had seen Indians at Jamestown, but
+they had come with friendly purpose to ask favors of the English. His
+impressions were therefore somewhat similar to those of a man who,
+having admired<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> the glossy coat, and graceful, athletic form of a tiger
+in a menagerie, first sees that fierce animal bounding towards him from
+his Indian jungle. The effect upon him, however, was of course but
+momentary, and he again raised his sword to renew the attack. But his
+opponent, without any desire of engaging again in the contest, turned to
+the young girl and said, in a familiar voice, “Well, Mamalis, what
+brings you to the hall so early this morning?”</p>
+
+<p>“There is danger there,” replied the young girl, solemnly, and in purer
+English than Bernard was prepared to hear. “If you would help me, put up
+your long knife and follow me.”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean?” asked Hansford, alarmed by her manner and words.</p>
+
+<p>“Manteo and his braves come to take blood for blood,” returned the girl.
+“There is no time to lose.”</p>
+
+<p>“In God's name, Mr. Bernard,” said Hansford, quickly, “come along with
+us. This is no time for private quarrel. Our swords are destined for
+another use.”</p>
+
+<p>“Most willingly,” replied Bernard; “our enmity will scarcely cool by
+delay. And mark me, young man, Alfred Bernard will never rest until he
+avenges the triumph of your sword this morning, or the foul blot which
+you have placed upon his name. But let that pass now. Can this
+creature's statement be relied on?”</p>
+
+<p>“She is as true as Heaven,” whispered Hansford. “Come on, for we have
+indeed but little time to lose; at another time I will afford you ample
+opportunity to redeem your honour or to avenge yourself. You will not
+find my blood cooler by delay.” And so the three walked on rapidly
+towards the house, the two young men side by side, after having sworn
+eternal hostility to one another, but yet willing to forget their
+private feud in the more important duties before them.</p>
+
+<p>The reader of the history of this interesting period, will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> remember
+that there were, at this time, many causes of discontent prevailing
+among the Indians of Virginia. As has been before remarked, the murder
+of a herdsman, Robert Hen by name, and other incidents of a similar
+character, were so terribly avenged by the incensed colonists, not only
+upon the guilty, but upon friendly tribes, that the discontent of the
+Indians was wide spread and nearly universal. Nor did it cease until the
+final suppression of the Indian power by Nathaniel Bacon, at the battle
+of Bloody Run. This, however, was but the immediate cause of
+hostilities, for which there had already been, in the opinion of the
+Indians, sufficient provocation. Many obnoxious laws had been passed by
+the Assembly, in regard to the savages, that were so galling to their
+independence, that the seeds of discord and enmity were already widely
+sown. Among these were the laws prohibiting the trade in guns and
+ammunition with the Indians; requiring the warriors of the peaceful
+tribes to wear badges in order that they might be recognized;
+restricting them in their trade to particular marts; and, above all,
+providing that the <i>Werowance</i>, or chief of a tribe, should hold his
+position by the appointment of the Governor, and not by the choice of
+his braves. This last provision, which struck at the very independence
+of the tribes, was so offensive, that peaceable relations with the
+Indians could not long be maintained. Add to this the fact, which for
+its inhumanity is scarcely credible, that the English at Monados, now
+the island of New York, had, with a view of controlling the monopoly of
+the trade in furs and skins, inspired the Indians with a bitter
+hostility toward the Virginians, and it will easily be seen that the
+magazine of discontent needed but a spark to explode in open hostility.</p>
+
+<p>So much is necessary to be premised in order that the reader may
+understand the relations which existed, at this period, between the
+colonists and the Indians around them.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“And in, the buskined hunters of the deer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Albert's home with shout and cymbal throng.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Campbell.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>The surprise and horror with which the intelligence of this impending
+attack was received by the family at Windsor Hall may be better imagined
+than described. Manteo, the leader of the party, a young Indian of the
+Pamunkey tribe, was well known to them all. With his sister, the young
+girl whom we have described, he lived quietly in his little wigwam, a
+few miles from the hall, and in his intercourse with the family had been
+friendly and even affectionate. But with all this, he was still ardently
+devoted to his race, and thirsting for fame; and stung by what he
+conceived the injustice of the whites, he had leagued himself in an
+enterprise, which, regardless of favour or friendship, was dictated by
+revenge.</p>
+
+<p>It was, alas! too late to hope for escape from the hall, or to send to
+the neighboring plantations for assistance; and, to add to their
+perplexity, the whole force of the farm, white servants and black, had
+gone to a distant field, where it was scarcely possible that they could
+hear of the attack until it was too late to contribute their aid in the
+defence. But with courage and resolution the gentlemen prepared to make
+such defence or resistance as was in their power, and, indeed, from the
+unsettled character of the times, a planter's house was no mean
+fortification against the attacks of the Indians. Early in the history
+of the colony, it was found necessary, for the general safety, to enact
+laws requiring each planter to provide suitable means of defence,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> in
+case of any sudden assault by the hostile tribes. Accordingly, the doors
+to these country mansions were made of the strongest material, and in
+some cases, and such was the case at Windsor Hall, were lined on the
+interior by a thick sheet of iron. The windows, too, or such as were low
+enough to be scaled from the ground, were protected by shutters of
+similar material. Every planter had several guns, and a sufficient store
+of ammunition for defence. Thus it will be seen that Windsor Hall,
+protected by three vigorous men, well armed and stout of heart, was no
+contemptible fortress against the rude attacks of a few savages, whose
+number in all probability would not exceed twenty. The greatest
+apprehension was from fire; but, strange to say, the savages but seldom
+resorted to this mode of vengeance, except when wrought up to the
+highest state of excitement.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p>
+
+<p>“At any rate,” said the brave old Colonel, “we will remain where we are
+until threatened with fire, and then at least avenge our lives with the
+blood of these infamous wretches.”</p>
+
+<p>The doors and lower windows had been barricaded, and the three men,
+armed to the teeth, stood ready in the hall for the impending attack.
+Virginia and her mother were there, the former pale as ashes, but
+suppressing her emotions with a violent effort in order to contribute to
+her mother's comfort. In fact, the old lady, notwithstanding her boast
+of bravery on the evening before, stood in need of all the consolation
+that her daughter could impart. She vented her feelings in screams as
+loud as those of the Indians she feared, and refused to be comforted.
+Virginia, forgetful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> of her own equal danger, leant tenderly over her
+mother, who had thrown herself upon a sofa, and whispered those sweet
+words of consolation, which religion can alone suggest in the hour of
+our trial:</p>
+
+<p>“Mother, dear mother,” she said, “remember that although earthly
+strength should fail, we are yet in the hands of One who is mighty.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, and what if we are,” cried her mother, whose faith was like that
+of the old lady, who, when the horses ran away with her carriage,
+trusted in Providence till the breeching broke. “Well, and what if we
+are, if in a few minutes our scalps may be taken by these horrible
+savages?”</p>
+
+<p>“But, dear mother, He has promised—”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I don't know whether he has or not—but as sure as fate there they
+come,” and the old lady relapsed into her hysterics.</p>
+
+<p>“Mother, mother, remember your duty as a Christian—remember in whom you
+have put your trust,” said Virginia, earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes, that's the way. Of course I know nothing of my duty, and I
+don't pretend to be as good as others. I am nothing but a poor, weak old
+woman, and must be reminded of my duty by my daughter, although I was a
+Christian long before she was born. But, for my part, I think it's
+tempting Providence to bear such a judgment with so much indifference.”</p>
+
+<p>“But, Bessy,” interposed the Colonel, seeing Virginia was silent under
+this unusual kind of argument, “your agitation will only make the matter
+worse. If you give way thus, we cannot be as ready and cool in action as
+we should. Come now, dear Bessy, calm yourself.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes, it's well to say that, after bringing me all the way into this
+wild country, to be devoured by these wild Indians. Oh, that I should
+ever have consented to leave my quiet home in dear old England for this!
+And all be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>cause a protector reigned instead of a king. Protector,
+forsooth; I would rather have a hundred protectors at this moment than
+one king.”</p>
+
+<p>“Father,” said Virginia, in a tremulous voice, “had we not better retire
+to some other part of the house? We can only incommode you here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Right, my girl,” said her father. “Take your mother up stairs into your
+room, and try and compose her.”</p>
+
+<p>“Take me, indeed,” said his worthy spouse. “Colonel Temple, you speak as
+if I was a baby, to be carried about as you choose. I assure you, I will
+not budge a foot from you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Stay where you are then,” replied Temple, impatiently, “and for God's
+sake be calm. Ha! now my boys—here they come!” and a wild yell, which
+seemed to crack the very welkin, announced the appearance of the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>“I think we had all better go to the upper windows,” said Hansford,
+calmly. “There is nothing to be done by being shut up in this dark hall;
+while there, protected from their arrows, we may do some damage to the
+enemy. If we remain, our only chance is to make a desperate sally, in
+which we would be almost certainly destroyed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Hansford,” said Virginia, “give me a gun—there is one left—and
+you shall see that a young girl, in an hour of peril like this, knows
+how to aid brave men in her own defence.”</p>
+
+<p>Hansford bent an admiring glance upon the heroic girl, as he placed the
+weapon in her hands, while her father said, with rapture, “God bless
+you, my daughter. If your arm were strong as your heart is brave, you
+had been a hero. I retract what I said on yesterday,” he added in a
+whisper, with a sad smile, “for you have this day proved yourself worthy
+to be a brave man's wife.”</p>
+
+<p>The suggestion of Hansford was readily agreed upon, and the little party
+were soon at their posts, shielded by the windows from the attack of the
+Indians, and yet in a posi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>tion from which they could annoy the enemy
+considerably by their own fire. From his shelter there, Bernard, to whom
+the sight was entirely new, could see rushing towards the hall, a party
+of about twenty savages, painted in the horrible manner which they adopt
+to inspire terror in a foe, and attired in that strange wild costume,
+which is now familiar to every school-boy. Their leader, a tall,
+athletic young Indian, surpassed them all in the hideousness of his
+appearance. His closely shaven hair was adorned with a tall eagle's
+feather, and pendant from his ears were the rattles of the rattlesnake.
+The only garment which concealed his nakedness was a short smock, or
+apron, reaching from his waist nearly to his knees, and made of dressed
+deer skin, adorned with beads and shells. Around his neck and wrists
+were strings of peake and roanoke. His face was painted in the most
+horrible manner, with a ground of deep red, formed from the dye of the
+pocone root, and variegated with streaks of blue, yellow and green.
+Around his eyes were large circles of green paint. But to make his
+appearance still more hideous, feathers and hair were stuck all over his
+body, upon the fresh paint, which made the warrior look far more like
+some wild beast of the forest than a human being.</p>
+
+<p>Brandishing a tomahawk in one hand, and holding a carbine in the other,
+Manteo, thus disguised, led on his braves with loud yells towards the
+mansion of Colonel Temple. How different from the respectful demeanour,
+and more modest attire, in which he was accustomed to appear before the
+family of Windsor Hall.</p>
+
+<p>To the great comfort of the inmates, his carbine was the only one in the
+party, thanks to the wise precaution of the Assembly, in restricting the
+sale of such deadly weapons to the Indians. His followers, arrayed in
+like horrible costume with himself, followed on with their tomahawks and
+bows; their arrows were secured in a quiver slung over the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> shoulder,
+which was formed of the skins of foxes and raccoons, rendered more
+terrible by the head of the animal being left unsevered from the skin.
+To the loud shrieks and yells of their voices, was added the unearthly
+sound of their drums and rattles—the whole together forming a
+discordant medley, which, as brave old John Smith has well and quaintly
+observed, “would rather affright than delight any man.”</p>
+
+<p>All this the besieged inmates of the hall saw with mingled feelings of
+astonishment and dread, awaiting with intense anxiety the result.</p>
+
+<p>“Now be perfectly quiet,” said Hansford, in a low tone, for, by tacit
+consent, he was looked upon as the leader of the defence. “The house
+being closed, they may conclude that the family are absent, and so,
+after their first burst of vengeance, retire. Their bark is always worse
+than their bite.”</p>
+
+<p>Such indeed seemed likely to be the case, for the Indians, arrived at
+the porch, looked around with some surprise at the barred doors and
+windows, and began to confer together. Whatever might have been the
+event of their conference, their actions, however, were materially
+affected by an incident which, though intended for the best, was well
+nigh resulting in destruction to the whole family.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> This fact, which I find mentioned by several historians, is
+explained by Kercheval, in his history of the Valley of Virginia, by the
+supposition that the Indians for a long time entertained the hope of
+reconquering the country, and saved property from destruction which
+might be of use to them in the future. See page 90 of Valley of Va.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Like gun when aimed at duck or plover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kicks back and knocks the shooter over.”<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>There was at Windsor Hall, an old family servant, known alike to the
+negroes and the “white folks,” by the familiar appellation of Uncle
+Giles. He was one of those old-fashioned negroes, who having borne the
+heat and burden of the day, are turned out to live in comparative
+freedom, and supplied with everything that can make their declining
+years comfortable and happy. Uncle Giles, according to his own account,
+was sixty-four last Whitsuntide, and was consequently born in Africa. It
+is a singular fact connected with this race, that whenever consulted
+about their age, they invariably date the anniversary of their birth at
+Christmas, Easter or Whitsuntide, the triennial holydays to which they
+are entitled. Whether this arises from the fact that a life which is
+devoted to the service of others should commence with a holyday, or
+whether these three are the only epochs known to the negro, is a
+question of some interest, but of little importance to our narrative. So
+it was, that old uncle Giles, in his own expressive phrase was, “after
+wiking all his born days, done turn out to graze hisself to def.” The
+only business of the old man was to keep himself comfortable in winter
+by the kitchen fire, and in summer to smoke his old corn-cob pipe on the
+three legged bench that stood at the kitchen door. Added to this, was
+the self-assumed duty of “strapping” the young darkies, and lecturing
+the old ones on the importance of working hard, and obeying “old massa,”
+cheerfully in everything. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> so old uncle Giles, with white and black,
+with old and young, but especially with old uncle Giles himself, was a
+great character. Among other things that increased his inordinate
+self-esteem, was the possession of a rusty old blunderbuss, which, long
+since discarded as useless by his master, had fallen into his hands, and
+was regarded by him and his sable admirers as a pearl of great price.</p>
+
+<p>Now it so happened, that on the morning to which our story refers, uncle
+Giles was quietly smoking his pipe, and muttering solemnly to himself in
+that grumbling tone so peculiar to old negroes. When he learned,
+however, of the intended attack of the Indians, the old man, who well
+remembered the earlier skirmishes with the savages, took his old
+blunderbuss from its resting-place above the door of the kitchen, and
+prepared himself for action. The old gun, which owing to the growing
+infirmities of its possessor, had not been called into use for years,
+was now rusted from disuse and neglect; and a bold spider had even dared
+to seek, not the bubble reputation, but his more substantial gossamer
+palace, at the very mouth of the barrel. Notwithstanding all this, the
+gun had all the time remained loaded, for Giles was too rigid an
+economist to waste a charge without some good reason. Armed with this
+formidable weapon, Giles succeeded in climbing up the side of the low
+cabin kitchen, by the logs which protruded from either end of the wall.
+Arrived at the top and screening himself behind the rude log and mud
+chimney, he awaited with a patience and immobility which Wellington
+might have envied, the arrival of the foe. Here then he was quietly
+seated when the conference to which we have alluded took place between
+the Indian warriors.</p>
+
+<p>“Bird flown,” said Manteo, the leader of the party. “Nest empty.”</p>
+
+<p>Two or three of the braves stooped down and began to examine the soft
+sandy soil to discover if there were any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> tracks or signs of the family
+having left. Fortunately the search seemed satisfactory, for the
+foot-prints of Bernard's and Hansford's horses, as they were led from
+the house towards the stable on the previous evening, were still quite
+visible.</p>
+
+<p>This little circumstance seemed to determine the party, and they had
+turned away, probably to seek their vengeance elsewhere, or to return at
+a more propitious moment, when the discharge of a gun was heard, so
+loud, so crashing, and so alarming, that it seemed like the sudden
+rattling of thunder in a storm.</p>
+
+<p>Luckily, perhaps for all parties, while the shot fell through the poplar
+trees like the first big drops of rain in summer, the only damage which
+was done was in clipping off the feather which was worn by Manteo as a
+badge of his position. When we say this, however, we mean to refer only
+to the effect of the <i>charge</i>, not of the <i>discharge</i> of the gun, for
+the breech rebounding violently against old Giles shoulder, the poor
+fellow lost his balance and came tumbling to the ground. The cabin was
+fortunately not more than ten feet high, and our African hero escaped
+into the kitchen with a few bruises—a happy compromise for the fate
+which would have inevitably been his had he remained in his former
+position. The smoke of his fusil mingling with the smoke from the
+chimney, averted suspicion, and with the simple-minded creatures who
+heard the report and witnessed its effects the whole matter remained a
+mystery.</p>
+
+<p>“Tunder,” said one, looking round in vain for the source from which an
+attack could be made.</p>
+
+<p>“Call dat tunder,” growled Manteo, pointing significantly to his moulted
+plume that lay on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>“Okees<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> mad. Shoot Pawcussacks<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> from osies,”<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> said one of the
+older and more experienced of the party,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> endeavouring to give some
+rational explanation of so inexplicable a mystery.</p>
+
+<p>A violent dispute here arose between the different warriors as to the
+cause of this sudden anger of the gods; some contending that it was
+because they were attacking a Netoppew or friend, and others with equal
+zeal contending that it was to reprove the slowness of their vengeance.</p>
+
+<p>From their position above, all these proceedings could be seen, and
+these contentions heard by the besieged party. The mixed language in
+which the men spoke, for they had even thus early appropriated many
+English words to supply the deficiencies in their own barren tongue, was
+explained by Mamalis, where it was unintelligible to the whites. This
+young girl felt a divided interest in the fate of the besieging and
+besieged parties; for all of her devotion to Virginia Temple could not
+make her entirely forget the fortunes of her brave brother.</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments, she saw that it was necessary to take some decisive
+step, for the faction which was of harsher mood, and urged immediate
+vengeance, was seen to prevail in the conference. The fatal word “fire”
+was several times heard, and Manteo was already starting towards the
+kitchen to procure the means of carrying into effect their deadly
+purpose.</p>
+
+<p>“I see nothing left, but to defend ourselves as we may,” said Hansford
+in a low voice, at the same time raising his musket, and advancing a
+step towards the window, with a view of throwing it open and commencing
+the attack.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, don't shoot,” said Mamalis, imploringly, “I will go and save all.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you think, my poor girl, that they will hearken to mercy at your
+intercession,” said Colonel Temple, shaking his head, sorrowfully.</p>
+
+<p>“No!” replied Mamalis, “the heart of a brave knows not mercy. If he gave
+his ear to the cry of mercy, he would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> be a squaw and not a brave. But
+fear not, I can yet save you,” she added confidently, “only do not be
+seen.”</p>
+
+<p>The men looked from one to the other to decide.</p>
+
+<p>“Trust her, father,” said Virginia, “if you are discovered blood must be
+shed. She says she can save us all. Trust her, Hansford. Trust her, Mr.
+Bernard.”</p>
+
+<p>“We could lose little by being betrayed at this stage of the game,” said
+Temple, “so go, my good girl, and Heaven will bless you!”</p>
+
+<p>Quick as thought the young Indian left the room, and descended the
+stairs. Drawing the bolt of the back door so softly, that she scarcely
+heard it move, herself, she went to the kitchen, where old Giles, a prey
+to a thousand fears, was seated trembling over the fire, his face of
+that peculiar ashy hue, which the negro complexion sometimes assumes as
+an humble apology for pallor. As she touched the old man on the
+shoulder, he groaned in despair and looked up, showing scarcely anything
+but the whites of his eyes, while his woolly head, thinned and white
+with age, resembled ashes sprinkled over a bed of extinguished charcoal.
+Seeing the face of an Indian, and too terrified to recognize Mamalis, he
+fell on his knees at her feet, and cried,</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, for de Lord sake, massa, pity de poor old nigger! My lod a messy,
+massa, I neber shoot anudder gun in all my born days.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hush,” said Mamalis, “and listen to me. I tell lie, you say it is
+truth; I say whites in Jamestown; you say so too—went yesterday.”</p>
+
+<p>“But bress your soul, missis,” said Giles, “sposen dey ax me ef I shot
+dat cussed gun, me say dat truf too?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, say it was thunder.”</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the tall dark form of Manteo entered the room. He started
+with surprise, as he saw his sister there, and in such company. His dark
+eye darted a fierce glance at Giles, who quailed beneath its glare.
+Then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> turning again to his sister, he said in the Indian tongue, which
+we freely translate:</p>
+
+<p>“Mamalis with the white man! where is he that I may drown my vengeance
+in his blood.”</p>
+
+<p>“He is gone; he is not within the power of Manteo. Manitou<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> has saved
+Manteo from the crime of killing his best friend.”</p>
+
+<p>“His people have killed my people for the offence of the few, I will
+kill him for the cruelty of many. For this is the calumet<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> broken.
+For this is the tree of peace<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> cut down by the tomahawk of war.”</p>
+
+<p>“Say not so,” replied Mamalis. “Temple is the netoppew<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> of Manteo. He
+is even now gone to the grand sachem of the long knives, to make Manteo
+the Werowance<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> of the Pamunkeys.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ha! is this true?” asked Manteo, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>“Ask this old man,” returned Mamalis. “They all went to Jamestown
+yesterday, did they not?” she asked in English of Giles, who replied, in
+a trembling voice,</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, my massa, dey has all gone to Jimson on yestiddy.”</p>
+
+<p>“And I a Werowance!” said the young man proudly, in his own language.
+“Spirits of Powhatan and Opechancanough, the name of Manteo shall live
+immortally as yours. His glory shall be the song of our race, and the
+young men of his tribe shall emulate his deeds. His life shall be
+brilliant as the sun's bright course, and his spirit shall set in the
+spirit land, bright with unfading glory.”</p>
+
+<p>Then turning away with a lofty step, he proceeded to rejoin his
+companions.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>The stratagem was successful, and Manteo, the bravest, the noblest of
+the braves, succeeded after some time in persuading them to desist from
+their destructive designs. In a few moments, to the delight of the
+little besieged party, the Indians had left the house, and were soon
+buried in the deep forest.</p>
+
+<p>“Thanks, my brave, generous girl,” said Temple, as Mamalis, after the
+success of her adventure, entered the room. “To your presence of mind we
+owe our lives.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I told a lie,” said the girl, looking down; “I said you had gone to
+make Manteo the Werowance of the Pamunkeys.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, my girl, he shall not want my aid in getting the office. So you,
+in effect, told the truth.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no; I said you had gone. It was a lie.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, but, Mamalis,” said Virginia, in an encouraging voice, for she had
+often impressed upon the mind of the poor savage girl the nature of a
+lie, “when a falsehood is told for the preservation of life, the sin
+will be freely forgiven which has accomplished so much good.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ignatius Loyola could not have stated his favourite principle more
+clearly, Miss Temple,” said Bernard, with a satirical smile. “I see that
+the Reformation has not made so wide a difference in the two Churches,
+after all.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, Mr. Bernard,” said old Temple, somewhat offended at the young man's
+tone; “the stratagem of the soldier, and the intrigue of the treacherous
+Jesuit, are very different. The one is the means which brave men may use
+to accomplish noble ends; the other is the wily machinations of a
+perfidious man to attain his own base purposes. The one is the skilful
+fence and foil of the swordsman, the other the subtle and deceitful
+design of the sneaking snake.”</p>
+
+<p>“Still they both do what is plainly a deception, in order to accomplish
+an end which they each believe to be good. Once break down the barrier
+to the field of truth, and it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> impossible any longer to distinguish
+between virtue and error.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said Mrs. Temple, “I am the last to blame the bridge which
+carries me over, and I'll warrant there is not one here, man or woman,
+who isn't glad that our lives have been saved by Mamalis's
+falsehood—for I have not had such a fright in all my days.”</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Gods.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Guns.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Heaven.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> The good spirit of the Indians.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> The pipe of peace.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> When a peace was concluded a tree was planted, and the contracting
+parties declared that the peace should be as long lived as the tree.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> The friend or benefactor.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> The Werowance, or chief of a tribe, was appointed by the Governor,
+and this mode of appointment gave great dissatisfaction to the Indians.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Religion, 'tis that doth distinguish us<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From their bruit humour, well we may it know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That can with understanding argue thus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our God is truth, but they cannot do so.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i24"><i>Smith's History.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>As may be well imagined, the Indian attack formed the chief topic of
+conversation at Windsor Hall during the day. Many were the marvellous
+stories which were called to memory, of Indian warfare and of Indian
+massacres—of the sad fate of those who had been their victims, the
+tortures to which their prisoners had been subjected, and the relentless
+cruelty with which even the tender babe, while smiling in the face of
+its ruthless murderer, was dashed pitilessly against a tree. Among these
+narratives, the most painful was that detailing the fate of George
+Cassen, who, tied to a tree by strong cords, was doomed to see his flesh
+and joints cut off, one by one, and roasted before his eyes; his head
+and face flayed with sharp mussel shells, and his belly ripped open;
+until at last, in the extremity of his agony, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> welcomed the very
+flames which consumed him, and rescued his body from their cruelty.<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></p>
+
+<p>Uncle Giles, whose premature action had so nearly ruined them all, and
+yet had probably been the cause of their ultimate safety, was the hero
+of the day, and loud was the laugh at the incident of the gun and
+kitchen chimney. The old man's bruises were soon tended and healed, and
+the grateful creature declared that “Miss Ginny's <i>lineaments</i> always
+did him more good than all the doctors in the world;” and in truth they
+were good for sore eyes.</p>
+
+<p>It was during the morning's conversation that Bernard learned from his
+host, and from Virginia, the intimate relations existing between Mamalis
+and the family at Windsor Hall. Many years before, there had been, about
+two miles from the hall, an Indian village, inhabited by some of the
+tribe of the Pamunkeys. Among them was an old chieftain named
+Nantaquaus,<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> who claimed to be of the same lineage as Powhatan, and
+who, worn out with war, now resided among his people as their
+patriarchal counsellor. In the hostilities which had existed before the
+long peace, which was only ended by the difficulties that gave rise to
+Bacon's Rebellion, the whole of the inhabitants of the little village
+had been cut off by the whites, with the exception of this old patriarch
+and his two orphan grand-children, who were saved through the
+interposition of Colonel Temple, exerted in their behalf on account of
+some kindness he had received at their hands. Grateful for the life of
+his little descendants, for he had long since ceased to care for the
+prolongation of his own existence, old Nantaquaus continued to live on
+terms approaching even to intimacy with the Temples. When at length he
+died, he bequeathed his grand-children<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> to the care of his protector. It
+was his wish, however, that they should still remain in the old wigwam
+where he had lived, and where they could best remember him, and, in
+visions, visit his spirit in the far hunting ground. In compliance with
+this, his last wish, Manteo and Mamalis continued their residence in
+that rude old hut, and secured a comfortable subsistence—he by fishing
+and the chase, and she by the cultivation of their little patch of
+ground, where maize, melons, pompions, cushaus, and the like, rewarded
+her patient labour with their abundant growth. Besides these duties, to
+which the life of the Indian woman was devoted, the young girl in her
+leisure moments, and in the long winter, made, with pretty skill, mats,
+baskets and sandals, weaving the former curiously with the long willow
+twigs which grew along the banks of the neighbouring York river, and
+forming the latter with dressed deer skin, ornamented with flowers made
+of beads and shells, or with the various coloured feathers of the birds.
+Her little manufactures met with a ready sale at the hall, being
+exchanged for sugar and coffee, and other such comforts as civilization
+provides; and for the sale of the excess of these simple articles over
+the home demand, she found a willing agent in the Colonel, who, in his
+frequent visits to Jamestown, disposed of them to advantage.</p>
+
+<p>Despite these associations, however, Manteo retained much of the
+original character of his race, and the wild forest life which he led,
+bringing him into communication with the less civilized members of his
+tribe, helped to cherish the native-fierceness of his temper. Clinging
+with tenacity to the superstitions and pursuits of his fathers, his mind
+was of that sterile soil, in which the seeds of civilization take but
+little root. His sister, without having herself lost all the peculiar
+features of her natural character, was still formed in a different
+mould, and her softer nature had already received some slight impress
+from Virginia's teach<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>ings, which led her by slow but certain degrees
+towards the truth. His was of that fierce, tiger nature, which Horace
+has so finely painted in his nervous description of Achilles,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer!”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>While her's can be best understood by her name, Mamalis, which,
+signifying in her own language a young fawn, at once expressed the grace
+of her person and the gentleness of her nature.</p>
+
+<p>Such is a brief but sufficient description of the characters and
+condition of these two young Indians, who play an important part in this
+narrative. The description, we may well suppose, derived additional
+interest to Bernard, from its association with the recent exciting
+scene, and from the interest which his heart began already to entertain
+for the fair narrator.</p>
+
+<p>But probably the most amusing, if not the most instructive portion of
+the morning's conversation, was that in which Mrs. Temple bore a
+conspicuous part. The danger being past, the good woman adverted with
+much pride to the calmness and fortitude which she had displayed during
+the latter part of the trying scene. She never suspected that her
+conduct had been at all open to criticism, for in the excess of her
+agitation, she had not been aware, either of her manner or her language.</p>
+
+<p>“The fact is, gentlemen,” she said, “that while you all displayed great
+coolness and resolution, it was well that you were not surrounded by
+timid women to embarrass you with their fears. I was determined that
+none of you should see my alarm, and I have no doubt you were surprised
+at my calmness.”</p>
+
+<p>“It was very natural for ladies to feel alarm,” said Hansford, scarcely
+able to repress the rising smile, “under circumstances, which inspired
+even strong men with fear. I only wonder that you bore it so well.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>“Ah, it is easy to see you are apologizing for Virginia, and I must
+confess that once or twice she did almost shake my self-possession a
+little by her agitation. But poor thing! we should make allowance for
+her. She is unaccustomed to such scenes. I, who was, you may say,
+cradled in a revolution, and brought up in civil war, am not so easily
+frightened.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, indeed, Bessy,” said old Temple, smiling good humouredly, “so
+entirely were you free from the prevailing fears, that I believe you
+were unconscious half the time of what was going on.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, really, Colonel Temple,” said the old lady, bristling up at this
+insinuation, “I think it ill becomes you to be exposing me as a jest
+before an entire stranger. However, it makes but little difference. It
+won't last always.”</p>
+
+<p>This prediction of his good wife, that “It,” which always referred to
+her husband's conduct immediately before, was doomed like all other
+earthly things to terminate, was generally a precursor to hysterics. And
+so she shook her head and patted her foot hysterically, while the
+Colonel wholly unconscious of any reasonable cause for the offence he
+had given, rolled up his eyes and shrugged his shoulders in silence.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the good couple to settle at their leisure those little disputes
+which never lasted on an average more than five minutes, let us follow
+Virginia as she goes down stairs to make some preparation for dinner. As
+she passed through the hall on her way to the store-room, she saw the
+graceful form of Mamalis just leaving the house. In the conversation
+which ensued we must beg the reader to imagine the broken English in
+which the young Indian expressed herself, while we endeavor to give it a
+free and more polite translation.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>“Mamalis, you are not going home already, are you,” said Virginia, in a
+gentle voice.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” replied the girl, with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>“Why do you sigh, Mamalis? Are you unhappy, my poor girl?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is very sad to be alone in my poor wigwam,” she replied.</p>
+
+<p>“Then stay with us, Manteo is away, and will probably not be back for
+some days.”</p>
+
+<p>“He would be angry if he came home and found me away.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, my poor girl,” said Virginia, taking her tenderly by the hand, “I
+wish you could stay with me, and let me teach you as I used to about God
+and heaven. Oh, think of these things, Mamalis, and they will make you
+happy even when alone. Wouldn't you like to have a friend always near
+you when Manteo is away?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh yes,” said the girl earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, there is just such a Friend who will never desert you; who is
+ever near to protect you in danger, and to comfort you in distress.
+Whose eye is never closed in sleep, and whose thoughts are never
+wandering from his charge.”</p>
+
+<p>“That cannot be,” said the young Indian, incredulously.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, it both can be and is so,” returned her friend. “One who has
+promised, that if we trust in him he will never leave us nor forsake us.
+That friend is the powerful Son of God, and the loving Brother of simple
+man. One who died to show his love, and who lives to show his power to
+protect. It is Jesus Christ.”</p>
+
+<p>“You told me about him long ago,” said Mamalis, shaking her head, “but I
+never saw him. He never comes to Manteo's wigwam.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, but He is still your friend,” urged Virginia earnestly. “When you
+left the room this morning on that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> work of mercy to save us all, I did
+not see you, and yet I told my father that I knew you would do us good.
+Were you less my friend because I didn't see you?</p>
+
+<p>“No.”</p>
+
+<p>“No,” continued Virginia, “you were more my friend, for if you had
+remained with me, we might all have been lost. And so Jesus has but
+withdrawn Himself from our eyes that He may intercede with his offended
+father, as you did with Manteo.”</p>
+
+<p>“Does he tell lies for us?” said the girl with artless simplicity, and
+still remembering her interview with her brother. Virginia felt a thrill
+of horror pass through her heart as she heard such language, but
+remembering the ignorance of her poor blinded pupil, she proceeded.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! Mamalis, do not talk thus. He of whom I speak is not as we are, and
+cannot commit a sin. But while He cannot commit sin Himself, He can die
+for the sins of others.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said the poor girl, seeing that she had unwittingly hurt the
+feelings of her friend, “I don't understand all that. Your God is so
+high, mine I can see and understand. But you love your God, I only fear
+mine.”</p>
+
+<p>“And do you not believe that God is good, my poor friend?” said
+Virginia, with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>“From Manitou all good proceeds,” replied Mamalis, as with beautiful
+simplicity she thus detailed her simple creed, which she had been taught
+by her fathers. “From him is life, and joy, and love. The blue sky is
+his home, and the green earth he has made for his pleasure. The fresh
+smelling flowers and the pure air are his breath, and the sweet music of
+the wind through the woods is his voice. The stars that he has sown
+through heaven, are the pure shells which he has picked up by the rivers
+which flow through the spirit land; and the sun is his chariot, with
+which he drives through heaven, while he smiles upon the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> world. Such is
+Manitou, whose very life is the good giving; the bliss-bestowing.”</p>
+
+<p>“My sweet Mamalis,” said Virginia, “you have, indeed, in your ignorance,
+painted a beautiful picture of the beneficence of God. And can you
+not—do you not thank this Giver of every good and perfect gift for all
+his mercies?”</p>
+
+<p>“I cannot thank him for that which he must bestow,” said the girl. “We
+do not thank the flower because its scent is sweet; nor the birds that
+fill the woods with their songs, because their music is grateful to the
+ear. Manitou is made to be adored, not to be thanked, for his very
+essence is good, and his very breath is love.”</p>
+
+<p>“But remember, my friend, that the voice of this Great Spirit is heard
+in the thunder, as well as in the breeze, and his face is revealed in
+the lightning as well as in the flower. He is the author of evil as well
+as of good, and should we not pray that He would avert the first, even
+if He heed not our prayer to bestow the last.”</p>
+
+<p>If Virginia was shocked by the sentiments of her pupil before, Mamalis
+was now as much so. Such an idea as ascribing evil to the great Spirit
+of the Universe, never entered the mind of the young savage, and now
+that she first heard it, she looked upon it as little less than open
+profanity.</p>
+
+<p>“Manitou is not heard in the thunder nor seen in the lightning,” she
+replied. “It is Okee whose fury against us is aroused, and who thus
+turns blessings into curses, and good into evil. To him we pray that he
+look not upon us with a frown, nor withhold the mercies that flow from
+Manitou; that the rains may fall upon our maize, and the sun may ripen
+it in the full ear; that he send the fat wild deer across my brother's
+path, and ride on his arrow until it reach its heart; that he direct the
+grand council in wisdom, and guide the tomahawk in its aim in battle.
+But I have tarried too long, my brother may await my coming.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, but you shall not go—at least,” said Virginia, “without something
+for your trouble. You have nearly lost a day, already. And come often
+and see me, Mamalis, and we will speak of these things again. I will
+teach you that your Manitou is good, as well as the author of good; and
+that he is love, as well as the fountain of love in others; that it is
+to him we should pray and in whom we should trust, and he will lead us
+safely through all our trials in this life, and take us to a purer
+spirit land than that of which you dream.”</p>
+
+<p>Mamalis shook her head, but promised she would come. Then loading her
+with such things as she thought she stood in need of, and which the poor
+girl but seldom met with, except from the same kind hand, Virginia bid
+her God speed, and they parted; Mamalis to her desolate wigwam, and
+Virginia to her labours in the household affairs, which had devolved
+upon her.<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Fact.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> This was also the name of the only son of the great Powhatan, as
+appears by John Smith's letter to the Queen, introducing the Princess
+Pocahontas.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> In the foregoing scene the language of Mamalis has been purposely
+rendered more pure than as it fell from her lips, because thus it was
+better suited to the dignity of her theme. As for the creed itself, it
+is taken from so many sources, that it would be impossible, even if
+desirable, to quote any authorities. The statements of Smith and
+Beverley, are, however, chiefly relied upon.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“And will you rend our ancient love asunder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And join with men in scorning your poor friend.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i24"><i>Midsummer Night's Dream.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>While Virginia was thus engaged, she was surprised by hearing a light
+step behind her, and looking up she saw Hansford pale and agitated,
+standing in the room.</p>
+
+<p>“What in the world is the matter?” she cried, alarmed at his appearance;
+“have the Indians—”</p>
+
+<p>“No, dearest, the Indians are far away ere this. But alas! there are
+other enemies to our peace than they.”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean?” she said, “speak! why do you thus agitate me by
+withholding what you would say.”</p>
+
+<p>“My dear Virginia,” replied her lover, “do you not remember that I told
+you last night that I had something to communicate, which would surprise
+and grieve you. I cannot expect you to understand or appreciate fully my
+motives. But you can at least hear me patiently, and by the memory of
+our love, by the sacred seal of our plighted troth, I beg you to hear me
+with indulgence, if not forgiveness.”</p>
+
+<p>“There are but few things, Hansford, that you could do,” said Virginia,
+gravely, “that love would not teach me to forgive. Go on. I hear you
+patiently.”</p>
+
+<p>“My story will be brief,” said Hansford, “although it may involve sad
+consequences to me. I need only say, that I have felt the oppressions of
+the government, under which the colony is groaning; I have witnessed the
+duplicity and perfidy of Sir William Berkeley, and I have determined<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
+with the arm and heart of a man, to maintain the rights of a man.”</p>
+
+<p>“What oppressions, what perfidy, what rights, do you mean?” said
+Virginia, turning pale with apprehension.</p>
+
+<p>“You can scarcely understand those questions dearest. But do you not
+know that the temporizing policy, the criminal delay of Berkeley, has
+already made the blood of Englishmen flow by the hand of savages. Even
+the agony which you this morning suffered, is due to the indirect
+encouragement given to the Indians by his fatal indulgence.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you have proved false to your country,” cried Virginia. “Oh!
+Hansford, for the sake of your honour, for the sake of your love, unsay
+the word which stains your soul with treason.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, my own Virginia, understand me. I may be a rebel to my king. I may
+almost sacrifice my love, but I am true, ever true to my country. The
+day has passed, Virginia, when that word was so restricted in its
+meaning as to be confounded with the erring mortal, who should be its
+minister and not its tyrant. The blood of Charles the First has mingled
+with the blood of those brave martyrs who perished for liberty, and has
+thus cemented the true union between a prince and his people. It has
+given to the world, that useful lesson, that the sovereign is invested
+with his power, to protect, and not to destroy the rights of his people;
+that freemen may be restrained by wholesome laws, but that they are
+freemen still. That lesson, Sir William Berkeley must yet be taught. The
+patriot who dares to teach him, is at last, the truest lover of his
+country.”</p>
+
+<p>“I scarcely know what you say,” said the young girl, weeping, “but tell
+me, oh, tell me, have you joined your fortunes with a rebel?”</p>
+
+<p>“If thus you choose to term him who loves freedom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> better than chains,
+who would rather sacrifice life itself than to drag out a weary
+existence beneath the galling yoke of oppression, I have. I know you
+blame me. I know you hate me now,” he added, in a sad voice, “but while
+it was my duty, as a freeman and a patriot, to act thus, it was also my
+duty, as an honourable man, to tell you all. You remember the last lines
+of our favourite song,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“I had not loved thee dear, so much,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loved I not honour more.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“Alas! I remember the words but too well,” replied Virginia, sadly, “but
+I had been taught that the honour there spoken of, was loyalty to a
+king, not treason. Oh, Hansford, forgive me, but how can I, reared as I
+have been, with such a father, how can I”—she hesitated, unable to
+complete the fatal sentence.</p>
+
+<p>“I understand you,” said Hansford. “But one thing then remains undone.
+The proscribed rebel must be an outlaw to Virginia Temple's heart. The
+trial is a sore one, but even this sacrifice can I make to my beloved
+country. Thus then I give you back your troth. Take it—take it,” he
+cried, and with one hand covering his eyes, he seemed with the other to
+tear from his heart some treasured jewel that refused to yield its
+place.</p>
+
+<p>The violence of his manner, even more than the fatal words he had
+spoken, alarmed Virginia, and with a wild scream, that rang through the
+old hall, she threw herself fainting upon his neck. The noise reached
+the ears of the party, who remained above stairs, and Colonel Temple,
+his wife, and Bernard, threw open the door and stood for a moment silent
+spectators of the solemn scene. There stood Hansford, his eye lit up
+with excitement, his face white as ashes, and his strong arm supporting
+the trembling form of the young girl, while with his other hand he was
+chafing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> her white temples, and smoothing back the long golden tresses
+that had fallen dishevelled over her face.</p>
+
+<p>“My child, my child,” shrieked her mother, who was the first to speak,
+“what on earth is the matter?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, Hansford, in the devil's name, what is to pay?” said the old
+colonel. “Why, Jeanie,” he added, taking the fair girl tenderly in his
+arms, “you are not half the heroine you were when the Indians were here.
+There now, that's a sweet girl, open your blue eyes and tell old father
+what is the matter.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing, dear father,” said Virginia, faintly, as she slowly opened her
+eyes. “I have been very foolish, that's all.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, Jeanie, it takes more than nothing or folly to steal the bloom
+away from these rosy cheeks.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps the young gentleman can explain more easily,” said Bernard,
+fixing his keen eyes on his rival. “A little struggle, perhaps, between
+love and loyalty.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Bernard, with all his shrewdness, would probably profit by the
+reflection,” said Hansford, coldly, “that as a stranger here, his
+opinions upon a matter of purely family concern, are both unwelcome and
+impertinent.”</p>
+
+<p>“May be so,” replied Bernard with a sneer; “but scarcely more unwelcome
+than the gross and continued deception practised by yourself towards
+those who have honoured you with their confidence.”</p>
+
+<p>Hansford, stung by the remark, laid his hand upon his sword, but was
+withheld by Colonel Temple, who cried out with impatience,</p>
+
+<p>“Why, what the devil do you mean? Zounds, it seems to me that my house
+is bewitched to-day. First those cursed Indians, with their infernal
+yells, threatening death and destruction to all and sundry; then my
+daughter here, playing the fool before my face, according to her own
+confession; and lastly, a couple of forward boys picking a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> quarrel with
+one another after a few hours' acquaintance. Damn it, Tom, you were wont
+to have a plain tongue in your head. Tell me, what is the matter?”</p>
+
+<p>“My kind old friend,” said Hansford, with a tremulous voice, “I would
+fain have reserved for your private ear, an explanation which is now
+rendered necessary by that insolent minion, whose impertinence had
+already received the chastisement it deserves, but for an unfortunate
+interruption.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, Tom,” said the Colonel, “no harsh words. Remember this young man
+is my guest, and as such, entitled to respect from all under my roof.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well then, sir,” continued Hansford, “this young lady's agitation was
+caused by the fact that I have lately pursued a course, which, while I
+believe it to be just and honourable, I fear will meet with but little
+favour in your eyes.”</p>
+
+<p>“As much in the dark as ever,” said the Colonel, perplexed beyond
+measure, for his esteem for Hansford prevented him from suspecting the
+true cause of his daughter's disquiet. “Damn it, man, Davus sum non
+Œdipus. Speak out plainly, and if your conduct has been, as you say,
+consistent with your honour, trust to an old friend to forgive you.
+Zounds, boy, I have been young myself, and can make allowance for the
+waywardness of youth. Been gaming a little too high, hey; well, the
+rest<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> was not so low in my day, but that I can excuse that, if you
+didn't 'pull down the side.'”<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a></p>
+
+<p>“I would fain do the young man a service, for I bear him no ill-will,
+though he has treated me a little harshly,” said Bernard, as he saw
+Hansford silently endeavouring to frame a reply in the most favourable
+terms, “I see he is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> ashamed of his cause, and well he may be; for you
+must know that he has become a great man of late, and has linked his
+fate to a certain Nathaniel Bacon.”</p>
+
+<p>The old loyalist started as he heard this unexpected announcement, then
+with a deep sigh, which seemed to come from his very soul, he turned to
+Hansford and said, “My boy, deny the foul charge; say it is not so.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is, indeed, true,” replied Hansford, mournfully, “but when—”</p>
+
+<p>“But when the devil!” cried the old man, bursting into a fit of rage;
+“and you expect me to stand here and listen to your justification.
+Zounds, sir, I would feel like a traitor myself to hear you speak. And
+this is the serpent that I have warmed and cherished at my hearth-stone.
+Out of my house, sir!”</p>
+
+<p>“To think,” chimed in Mrs. Temple, for once agreeing fully with her
+husband, “how near our family, that has always prided itself on its
+loyalty, was being allied to a traitor. But he shall never marry
+Virginia, I vow.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, by God,” said the enraged loyalist; “she should rot in her grave
+first.”</p>
+
+<p>“Miss Temple is already released from her engagement,” said Hansford,
+recovering his calmness in proportion as the other party lost their's.
+“She is free to choose for herself, sir.”</p>
+
+<p>“And that choice shall never light on you, apostate,” cried Temple,
+“unless she would bring my grey hairs in sorrow to the grave.”</p>
+
+<p>“And mine, too,” said the old lady, beginning to weep.</p>
+
+<p>“I will not trouble you longer with my presence,” said Hansford,
+proudly, “except to thank you for past kindness, which I can never
+forget. Farewell, Colonel Temple, I respect your prejudices, though they
+have led you to curse me. Farewell, Mrs. Temple, I will ever think of
+your generous hospitality with gratitude. Farewell, Virginia,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> forget
+that such a being as Thomas Hansford ever darkened your path through
+life, and think of our past love as a dream. I can bear your
+forgetfulness, but not your hate. For you, sir,” he added, turning to
+Alfred Bernard, “let me hope that we will meet again, where no
+interruption will prevent our final separation.”</p>
+
+<p>With these words, Hansford, his form proudly erect, but his heart bowed
+down with sorrow, slowly left the house.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you not a Justice of the Peace?” asked Bernard, with a meaning
+look.</p>
+
+<p>“And what is that to you, sir?” replied the old man, suspecting the
+design of the question.</p>
+
+<p>“Only, sir, that as such it is your sworn duty to arrest that traitor. I
+know it is painful, but still it is your duty.”</p>
+
+<p>“And who the devil told you to come and teach me my duty, sir?” said the
+old man, wrathfully. “Let me tell you, sir, that Tom Hansford, with all
+his faults, is a d—d sight better than a great many who are free from
+the stain of rebellion. Rebellion!—oh, my God!—poor, poor Tom.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, then, sir,” said Bernard, meekly, “I beg your pardon. I only felt
+it my duty to remind you of what you might have forgotten. God forbid
+that I should wish to endanger the life of a poor young man, whose only
+fault may be that he was too easily led away by others.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are right, by God,” said the Colonel, quickly. “He is the victim of
+designing men, and yet I never said a word to reclaim him. Oh, I have
+acted basely and not like a friend. I will go now and bring him back,
+wife; though if he don't repent—zounds!—neither will I; no, not for a
+million friends.”</p>
+
+<p>So saying, the noble-hearted old loyalist, whose impulsive nature was as
+prompt to redeem as to commit an error, started from the room to reclaim
+his lost boy. It was too late. Hansford, anticipating the result of the
+fatal revela<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>tion, had ordered his horse even before his first interview
+with Virginia. The old Colonel only succeeded in catching a glimpse of
+him from the porch, as at a full gallop he disappeared through the
+forest.</p>
+
+<p>With a heavy sigh he returned to the study, there to meet with the
+consolations of his good wife, which were contained in the following
+words:</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I hope and trust he is gone, and will never darken our doors
+again. You know, my dear, I always told you that you were wrong about
+that young man, Hansford. There always seemed to be a lack of frankness
+and openness in his character, and although I do not like to interpose
+my objections, yet I never altogether approved of the match. You know I
+always told you so.”</p>
+
+<p>“Told the devil!” cried the old man, goaded to the very verge of despair
+by this new torture. “I beg your pardon, Bessy, for speaking so hastily,
+but, damn it, if all the angels in Heaven had told me that Tom Hansford
+could prove a traitor, I would not have believed it.”</p>
+
+<p>And how felt she, that wounded, trusting one, who thus in a short day
+had seen the hopes and dreams of happiness, which fancy had woven in her
+young heart, all rudely swept away! 'Twere wrong to lift the veil from
+that poor stricken heart, now torn with grief too deep for words—too
+deep, alas! for tears. With her cheek resting on her white hand, she
+gazed tearlessly, but vacantly, towards the forest where he had so
+lately vanished as a dream. To those who spoke to her, she answered
+sadly in monosyllables, and then turned her head away, as if it were
+still sweet to cherish thus the agony which consumed her. But the
+bitterest drop in all this cup of woe, was the self-reproach which
+mingled with her recollection of that sad scene. When he had frankly
+given back her troth, she, alas! had not stayed his hand, nor by a word
+had told him how truly, even in his guilt, her heart was his. And now,
+she thought, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> thus driven harshly into the cold world, his only
+friends among the enemies to truth, his enemies its friends, how one
+little word of love, or even of pity, might have redeemed him from
+error, or at least have cheered him in his dark career.</p>
+
+<p>But bear up bravely, sweet one; for heavier, darker sorrows yet must
+cast their shadows on thy young heart, ere yet its warm pulsations cease
+to beat, and it be laid at rest.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Rest was the prescribed limit to the size of the venture.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> To pull down the side was a technical term with our ancestors for
+cheating.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Wounded in both my honour and my love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They have pierced me in two tender parts.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, could I take my just revenge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It would in some degree assuage my smart.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Vanbrugh.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>It was at an early hour on the following morning that the queer old
+chariot of Colonel Temple—one of the few, by the way, which wealth had
+as yet introduced into the colony—was drawn up before the door. The two
+horses of the gentlemen were standing ready saddled and bridled, in the
+care of the hostler. In a few moments, the ladies, all dressed for the
+journey, and the gentlemen, with their heavy spurs, long, clanging
+swords, and each with a pair of horseman's pistols, issued from the
+house into the yard. The old lady, declaring that they were too late,
+and that, if her advice had been taken, they would have been half way to
+Jamestown, was the first to get into the carriage, armed with a huge
+basket of bread, beef's tongue, cold<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> ham and jerked venison, which was
+to supply the place of dinner on the road. Virginia, pale and sad, but
+almost happy at any change from scenes where every object brought up
+some recollection of the banished Hansford, followed her mother; and the
+large trunk having been strapped securely behind the carriage, and the
+band-box, containing the old lady's tire for the ball and other light
+articles of dress, having been secured, the little party were soon in
+motion.</p>
+
+<p>The hope and joy with which Virginia had looked forward to this trip to
+Jamestown had been much enhanced by the certainty that Hansford would be
+there. With the joyousness of her girlish heart, she had pictured to
+herself the scene of pleasure and festivity which awaited her. The Lady
+Frances' birth-day, always celebrated at the palace with the voice of
+music and the graceful dance—with the presence of the noblest cavaliers
+from all parts of the colony, and the smiles of the fairest damsels who
+lighted the society of the Old Dominion—was this year to be celebrated
+with unusual festivities. But, alas! how changed were the feelings of
+Virginia now!—how blighted were the hopes which had blossomed in her
+heart!</p>
+
+<p>Their road lay for the most part through a beautiful forest, where the
+tall poplar, the hickory, the oak and the chestnut were all indigenous,
+and formed an avenue shaded by their broad branches from the intense
+rays of the summer sun. Now and then the horses were startled at the
+sudden appearance of some fairy-footed deer, as it bounded lightly but
+swiftly through the woods; or at the sudden whirring of the startled
+pheasant, as she flew from their approach; or the jealous gobble of the
+stately turkey, as he led his strutting dames into his thicket-harem.
+The nimble grey squirrel, too, chattered away saucily in his high leafy
+nest, secure from attack from his very insignificance. Birds innumerable
+were seen flitting from branch to branch, and tuning their mellow voices
+as choristers in this forest-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>temple of Nature. The song of the thrush
+and the red-bird came sweetly from the willows, whose weeping branches
+overhung the neighbouring banks of a broad stream; the distant dove
+joined her mournful melody to their cheerful notes, and the woodpecker,
+on the blasted trunk of some stricken oak, tapped his rude bass in
+unison with the happy choir of the forest.</p>
+
+<p>All this Virginia saw and heard, and <i>felt</i>—yes, felt it all as a
+bitter mockery: as if, in these joyous bursts from the big heart of
+Nature, she were coldly regardless of the sorrows of those, her
+children, who had sought their happiness apart; as though the avenging
+Creator had given man naught but the bitter fruit of that fatal tree of
+knowledge, while he lavished with profusion on all the rest of his
+creation the choicest fruits that flourished in His paradise.</p>
+
+<p>In vain did Bernard, with his soft and winning voice, point out these
+beauties to Virginia. In vain, with all the rich stores of his gifted
+mind, did he seek to alienate her thoughts from the one subject that
+engrossed them. She scarcely heard what he said, and when at length
+urged by the impatient nudges of her mother to answer, she showed by her
+absence of mind how faint had been the impression which he made. A
+thousand fears for the safety of her lover mingled with her thoughts.
+Travelling alone in that wild country, with hostile Indians infesting
+the colony, what, alas! might be his fate! Or even if he should escape
+these dangers, still, in open arms against his government, proclaimed a
+rebel by the Governor, a more horrible destiny might await him. And then
+the overwhelming thought came upon her, that be his fate in other
+respects what it might—whether he should fall by the cruelty of the
+savage, the sword of the enemy, or, worst of all, by the vengeance of
+his indignant country—to her at least he was lost forever.</p>
+
+<p>Avoiding carefully any reference to the subject of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> grief, and
+bending his whole mind to the one object of securing her attention,
+Alfred Bernard endeavored to beguile her with graphic descriptions of
+the scenes he had left in England. He spoke—and on such subjects none
+could speak more charmingly—of the brilliant society of wits, and
+statesmen, and beauties, which clustered together in the metropolis and
+the palace of the restored Stuart. Passing lightly over the vices of the
+court, he dwelt upon its pageantry, its wit, its philosophy, its poetry.
+The talents of the gay and accomplished, but vicious Rochester, were no
+more seen dimmed in their lustre by his faithlessness to his wife, or
+his unprincipled vices in the <i>beau monde</i> of London. Anecdote after
+anecdote, of Waller, of Cowley, of Dryden, flowed readily from his lips.
+The coffee-houses were described, where wit and poetry, science and art,
+politics and religion, were discussed by the first intellects of the
+age, and allured the aspiring youth of England from the vices of
+dissipation, that they might drink in rich draughts of knowledge from
+these Pierian springs. The theatre, the masque, the revels, which the
+genial rays of the Restoration had once more warmed into life, next
+formed the subjects of his conversation. Then passing from this picture
+of gay society, he referred to the religious discussions of the day. His
+eye sparkled and his cheek glowed as he spoke of the triumphs of the
+established Church over puritanical heresy; and his lip curled, and he
+laughed satirically, as he described the heroic sufferings of some
+conscientious Baptist, dragged at the tail of a cart, and whipped from
+his cell in Newgate to Tyburn hill. Gradually did Virginia's thoughts
+wander from the one sad topic which had engrossed them, and by
+imperceptible degrees, even unconsciously to herself, she became deeply
+interested in his discourse. Her mother, whom the wily Bernard took
+occasion ever and anon, to propitiate with flattery, was completely
+carried away, and in the inmost recesses of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> heart a hope was
+hatched that the eloquent young courtier would soon take the place of
+the rebel Hansford, in the affections of her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>We have referred to a stream, along whose forest-banks their road had
+wound. That stream was the noble York, whose broad bosom, now broader
+and more beautiful than ever, lay full in their view, and on which the
+duck, the widgeon and the gull were quietly floating. Here and there
+could be seen the small craft of some patient fisherman, as it stood
+anchored at a little distance from the shore, its white sail shrouding
+the solitary mast; and at an opening in the woods, about a mile ahead,
+rose the tall masts of an English vessel, riding safely in the broad
+harbour of Yorktown—then the commercial rival of Jamestown in the
+colony.</p>
+
+<p>The road now became too narrow for the gentlemen any longer to ride by
+the side of the carriage, and at the suggestion of the Colonel, an
+arrangement was adopted by which he should lead the little party in
+front, while Bernard should bring up the rear. This precaution was the
+more necessary, as the abrupt banks of the river, with the dense bushes
+which grew along them, was a safe lurking place for any Indians who
+might be skulking about the country.</p>
+
+<p>“A very nice gentleman, upon my word,” said Mrs. Temple, when Alfred
+Bernard was out of hearing. “Virginia, don't you like him?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, very much, as far as I have an opportunity of judging.”</p>
+
+<p>“His information is so extensive, his views so correct, his conversation
+so delightful. Don't you think so?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, mother,” replied Virginia.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, mother! Why don't you show more spirit?” said her mother. “There
+you sat moping in the carriage the whole way, looking for all the world
+as if you didn't under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>stand a word he was saying. That isn't right, my
+dear; you should look up and show more spirit—d'ye hear!”</p>
+
+<p>“You mistake,mother; I did enjoy the ride very much, and found Mr.
+Bernard very agreeable.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, but you were so lack-a-daisical and yea, nay, in your manner to
+him. How do you expect a young man to feel any interest in you, if you
+never give him any encouragement?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, mother, I don't suppose Mr. Bernard takes any more interest in me
+than he would in any casual acquaintance; and, indeed, if he did, I
+certainly cannot return it. But I will try and cheer up, and be more
+agreeable for your sake.”</p>
+
+<p>“That's right, my dear daughter; remember that your old mother knows
+what is best for you, and she will never advise you wrong. I think it is
+very plain that this young gentleman has taken a fancy to you already,
+and while I would not have you too pert and forward, yet it is well
+enough to show off, and, in a modest way, do everything to encourage
+him. You know I always said, my dear, that you were too young when you
+formed an attachment for that young Hansford, and that you did not know
+your own heart, and now you see I was right.”</p>
+
+<p>Virginia did not see that her mother was right, but she was too well
+trained to reply; and so, without a word, she yielded herself once more
+to her own sad reflections, and, true-hearted girl that she was, she
+soon forgot the fascinations of Alfred Bernard in her memory of
+Hansford.</p>
+
+<p>They had not proceeded far, when Bernard saw, seated on the trunk of a
+fallen tree, the dusky form of a young Indian, whom he soon recognized
+as the leader of the party who the day before had made the attack upon
+Windsor Hall. The interest which he felt in this young man, whose early
+history he had heard, combined with a curiosity to converse with one of
+the strange race to which he belonged,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> and, as will be seen, a darker
+motive and a stronger reason than either, induced Bernard to rein up his
+horse, and permitting his companions to proceed some distance in front,
+to accost the young Indian. Alfred Bernard, by nature and from
+education, was perfectly fearless, though he lacked the magnanimity
+which, united with fearlessness, constitutes bravery. Laying his hand on
+his heart, which, as he had already learned, was the friendly salutation
+used with and toward the savages, he rode slowly towards Manteo. The
+young Indian recognized the gesture which assured him of his friendly
+intent, and rising from his rude seat, patiently waited for him to
+speak.</p>
+
+<p>“I would speak to you,” said Bernard.</p>
+
+<p>“Speak on.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are you entirely alone?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ugh,” grunted Manteo, affirmatively.</p>
+
+<p>“Where are those who were with you at Windsor Hall?”</p>
+
+<p>“Gone to Delaware,<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> to Matchicomoco.”<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></p>
+
+<p>“Why did you not go with them?” asked Bernard.</p>
+
+<p>“Manteo love long-knife—Pamunkey hate Manteo—drive him away from his
+tribe,” said the young savage, sorrowfully.</p>
+
+<p>The truth flashed upon Bernard at once. This young savage, who, in a
+moment of selfish ambition, for his own personal advancement, had
+withheld the vengeance of his people, was left by those whom he had once
+led, as no longer worthy of their confidence. In the fate of this
+untutored son of the forest, the young courtier had found a sterner
+rebuke to selfishness and ambition than he had ever seen in the court of
+the monarch of England.</p>
+
+<p>“And so you are alone in the world now?” said Bernard.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>“Ugh!”</p>
+
+<p>“With nothing to hope or to live for?”</p>
+
+<p>“One hope left,” said Manteo, laying his hand on his tomahawk.</p>
+
+<p>“What is that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Revenge.”</p>
+
+<p>“On whom?”</p>
+
+<p>“On long-knives and Pamunkeys.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you live for revenge,” said Bernard, “we live for nearly the same
+object. You may trust me—I will be your friend. Do you know me?”</p>
+
+<p>“No!” said Manteo, shaking his head.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I know you,” said Bernard. “Now, what if I help you to the sweet
+morsel of revenge you speak of?”</p>
+
+<p>“I tank you den.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you know your worst enemy?”</p>
+
+<p>“Manteo!”</p>
+
+<p>“How—why so?”</p>
+
+<p>“I make all my oder enemy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, but I know an enemy who is even worse than yourself, because he
+has made you your own enemy. One who oppresses your race, and is even
+now making war upon your people. I mean Thomas Hansford.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ugh!” said Manteo, with more surprise than he had yet manifested; and
+for once, leaving his broken English, he cried in his own tongue,
+“Ahoaleu Virginia.” (He loves Virginia Temple.)</p>
+
+<p>“And do you?” said Bernard, guessing at his meaning, and marking with
+surprise the more than ordinary feeling with which Manteo had uttered
+these words.</p>
+
+<p>“See dere,” replied Manteo, holding up an arrow, which he had already
+taken from his quiver, as if with the intention of fixing it to his
+bow-string. “De white crenepo,<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> de maiden, blunt Manteo's arrow when
+it would fly to her father's heart.” At the same time he pointed towards
+the road along which the carriage had lately passed.</p>
+
+<p>“By the holy Virgin,” muttered Bernard, “methinks the whole colony,
+Indians, negroes, and all, are going stark mad after this girl. And so
+you hate Hansford, then?” he said aloud.</p>
+
+<p>“No, I can't hate what she loves,” replied Manteo, feelingly.</p>
+
+<p>“Why did you aid in attacking her father's house then, yesterday?”</p>
+
+<p>“Long-knives strike only when dey hate; Pamunkey fight from duty. If
+Manteo drop de tomahawk because he love, he is squaw, not a brave.”</p>
+
+<p>“But this Hansford,” said Bernard, “is in arms against your people, whom
+the government would protect.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ugh!” grunted the young warrior. “Pamunkey want not long-knives'
+protect. De grand werowance of long-knives has cut down de peace tree
+and broke de pipe, and de tomahawk is now dug up. De grand werowance
+protect red man like eagle protect young hare.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, but we would be friends with the Indians,” urged Bernard. “We
+would share this great country with them, and Berkeley would be the
+great father of the Pamunkeys.”</p>
+
+<p>The Indian looked with ineffable disdain on his companion, and then
+turning towards the river, he pointed to a large fish-hawk, who, with a
+rapid swoop, had caught in his talons a fish that had just bubbled above
+the water for breath, and borne him far away in the air.</p>
+
+<p>“See dere,” said Manteo; “water belong to fish—hawk is fish's friend.”</p>
+
+<p>Bernard saw that he had entirely mistaken the character of his
+companion. The vengeance of the Indians being once aroused, they failed
+to discriminate between the authors of the injuries which they had
+received, and those who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> sought to protect them; and they attributed to
+the great werowance of the long-knives (for so they styled the Governor
+of Virginia) all the blame of the attack and slaughter of the
+unoffending Susquehannahs. But the wily Bernard was not cast down by his
+ill success, in attempting to arouse the vengeance of Manteo against his
+rival.</p>
+
+<p>“Your sister is at the hall often, is she not?” he asked, after a brief
+pause.</p>
+
+<p>“Ugh,” said the Indian, relapsing into this affirmative grunt.</p>
+
+<p>“So is Hansford—your sister knows him.”</p>
+
+<p>“What of dat?”</p>
+
+<p>“Excuse me, my poor friend,” said Bernard, “but I came to warn you that
+your sister knows him as she should not.”</p>
+
+<p>The forest echoed with the wild yell that burst from the lips of Manteo
+at this cruel fabrication—so loud, so wild, so fearful, that the ducks
+which had been quietly basking in the sun, and admiring their graceful
+shadows in the water, were startled, and with an alarmed cry flew far
+away down the river.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian character, although still barbarous, had been much improved
+by association with the English. Respect for the female sex, and a
+scrupulous regard for female purity, which are ever the first results of
+dawning civilization, had already taken possession of the benighted
+souls of the Indians of Virginia. More especially was this so with the
+young Manteo, whose association with the whites, notwithstanding his
+strong devotion to his own race, had imparted more refinement and purity
+to his nature than was enjoyed by most of his tribe. Mamalis, the pure,
+the spotless Mamalis—she, whom from his earliest boyhood he had hoped
+to bestow on some young brave, who, foremost in the chase, or most
+successful in the ambuscade, could tell the story of his achievements
+among the chieftains at the council-fire—it was too much; the stern
+heart of the young<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> Indian, though “trained from his tree-rocked cradle
+the fierce extremes of good and ill to bear,” burst forth in a gush of
+agony, as he thus heard the fatal knell of all his pride and all his
+hope.</p>
+
+<p>Bernard was at first startled by the shriek, but soon regained his
+composure, and calm and composed regarded his victim. When at length the
+first violence of grief had subsided, he said, with a soft, mild voice,
+which fell fresh as dew upon the withered heart of the poor Indian,</p>
+
+<p>“I am sorry for you, my friend, but it is too true. And now, Manteo,
+what can be your only consolation?”</p>
+
+<p>“Revenge is de wighsacan<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> to cure dis wound,” said the poor savage.</p>
+
+<p>“Right. This is the only food for brave and injured men. Well, we
+understand each other now—don't we?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ugh,” grunted Manteo, with a look of satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>“Very well,” returned Bernard, “is your tomahawk sharp?”</p>
+
+<p>“It won't cut deep as dis wound, but I will sharpen it on my broken
+heart,” replied Manteo, with a heavy sigh.</p>
+
+<p>“Right bravely said. And now farewell; I will help you as I can,” said
+Alfred Bernard, as he turned and rode away, while the poor Indian sank
+down again upon his rude log seat, his head resting on his hands.</p>
+
+<p>“And this the world calls villainy!” mused Bernard, as he rode along.
+“But it is the weapon with which nature has armed the weak, that he may
+battle with the strong. For what purpose was the faculty of intrigue
+bestowed upon man, if it were not to be exercised? and, if exercised at
+all, why surely it can never be directed to a purer object than the
+accomplishment of good. Thus, then, what the croaking moralist calls
+evil, may always be committed if good be the result; and what higher
+good can be attained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> in life than happiness, and what purer happiness
+can there be than revenge? No man shall ever cross my path but once with
+safety, and this young Virginia rebel has already done so. He has shown
+his superior skill and courage with the sword, and has made me ask my
+life at his hands. Let him look to it that he may not have to plead for
+his own life in vain. This young Indian's thirst will not be quenched
+but with blood. By the way, a lucky hit was that. His infernal yell is
+sounding in my ears yet. But Hansford stands in my way besides. This
+fair young maiden, with her beauty, her intellect, and her land, may
+make my fortune yet; and who can blame the poor, friendless orphan, if
+he carve his way to honour and independence even through the blood of a
+rival. The poor, duped savage whom I just left, said that he was his own
+worst enemy; I am wiser in being my own best friend. Tell me not of the
+world—it is mine oyster, which I will open by my wits as well as by my
+sword. Prate not of morality and philanthropy. Man is a microcosm, a
+world within himself, and he only is a wise one who uses the world
+without for the success of the world within. Once supplant this Hansford
+in the love of his betrothed bride, and I succeed to the broad acres of
+Windsor Hall. Old Berkeley shall be the scaffolding by which I will rise
+to power and position, and when he rots down, the building I erect will
+be but the fairer for the riddance. Who recks the path which he has
+trod, when home and happiness are in view? What general thinks of the
+blood he has shed, when the shout of victory rings in his ears? Be true
+to yourself, Alfred Bernard, though false to all the world beside! At
+last, good father Bellini, thou hast taught me true wisdom—'Success
+sanctifies sin.'”</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> The name of the village at the confluence of Pamunkey and
+Mattapony, now called West Point.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Grand Council of the Indians.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> A woman.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> A root used by the Indians successfully in the cure of all wounds.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Is this your joyous city, whose antiquity is of ancient days?”<br /></span>
+<span class="i40"><i>Isaiah.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i4">“One mouldering tower, o'ergrown with ivy, shows<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Where first Virginia's capital arose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And to the tourist's vision far withdrawn<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Stands like a sentry at the gates of dawn.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The church has perished—faint the lines and dim<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of those whose voices raised the choral hymn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Go read the record on the mossy stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">'Tis brief and sad—oblivion claims its own!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Thompson's Virginia.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>The traveller, as he is borne on the bosom of the noble James, on the
+wheezing, grunting steamboat, may still see upon the bank of the river,
+a lonely ruin, which is all that now remains of the old church at
+Jamestown. Despite its loneliness and desolation, that old church has
+its memories, which hallow it in the heart of every Virginian. From its
+ruined chancel that “singular excellent” Christian and man, good Master
+Hunt, was once wont, in far gone times, to preach the gospel of peace to
+those stern old colonists, who in full armour, and ever prepared for
+Indian interruptions, listened with devout attention. There in the front
+pew, which stood nearest the chancel, had sat John Smith, whose sturdy
+nature and strong practical sense were alone sufficient to repel the
+invasion of heathen savages, and provide for the wants of a famishing
+colony. Yet, with all the sternness and rigour of his character, his
+heart was subdued by the power of religion, as he bowed in meek
+submission to its precepts, and relied with humble confidence upon its
+promises. The pure light of Heaven was reflected even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> from that strong
+iron heart. At that altar had once knelt a dusky but graceful form, the
+queenly daughter of a noble king; and, her savage nature enlightened by
+the rays of the Sun of righteousness, she had there received upon her
+royal brow the sacred sign of her Redeemer's cross. And many a dark eye
+was bedewed with tears, and many a strong heart was bowed in prayer, as
+the stout old colonists stood around, and saw the baptismal rite which
+sealed the profession and the faith of the brave, the beautiful, the
+generous Pocahontas.</p>
+
+<p>But while this old ruin thus suggests many an association with the olden
+time, there is nothing left to tell the antiquary of the condition and
+appearance of Jamestown, the first capital of Virginia. The island, as
+the narrow neck of land on which the town was built is still erroneously
+called, may yet be seen; but not a vestige of the simple splendour, with
+which colonial pride delighted to adorn it, remains to tell the story of
+its glory or destruction. And yet, to the eye and the heart of the
+colonist, this little town was a delight: for here were assembled the
+Governor and his council, who, with mimic pride, emulated the grandeur
+and the pageant of Whitehall. Here, too, were the burgesses congregated
+at the call of the Governor, who, with their stately wives and blooming
+daughters, contributed to the delight of the metropolitan society. Here,
+too, was the principal mart, where the planters shipped their tobacco
+for the English market, and received from home those articles of
+manufacture and those rarer delicacies which the colony was as yet
+unable to supply. And here, too, they received news from Europe, which
+served the old planters and prurient young statesmen with topics of
+conversation until the next arrival; while the young folks gazed with
+wonder and delight at the ship, its crew and passengers, who had
+actually been in that great old England of which they had heard their
+fathers talk so much.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>The town, like an old-fashioned sermon, was naturally divided into two
+parts. The first, which lay along the river, was chiefly devoted to
+commercial purposes—the principal resort of drunken seamen, and those
+land harpies who prey upon them for their own subsistence. Here were
+located those miserable tippling-houses, which the Assembly had so long
+and so vainly attempted to suppress. Here were the busy forwarding
+houses, with their dark counting-rooms, their sallow clerks, and their
+bills of lading. Here the shrewd merchant and the bluff sea-captain
+talked loudly and learnedly of the laws of trade, the restrictive policy
+of the navigation laws, and the growing importance of the commercial
+interests of the colony. And here was the immense warehouse, under the
+especial control of the government, with its hundreds of hogsheads of
+tobacco, all waiting patiently their turn for inspection; and the
+sweating negroes, tearing off the staves of the hogsheads to display the
+leaf to view, and then noisily hammering them together again, while the
+impatient inspector himself went the rounds and examined the wide spread
+plant, and adjudged its quality; proving at the same time his capacity
+as a connoisseur, by the enormous quid which he rolled pleasantly in his
+mouth.</p>
+
+<p>But it is the more fashionable part of the town, with which our story
+has to do; and here, indeed, even at this early day, wealth and taste
+had done much to adorn the place, and to add to the comfort of the
+inhabitants. At one end of the long avenue, which was known as Stuart
+street, in compliment to the royal family, was situated the palace of
+Sir William Berkeley. Out of his private means and the immense salary of
+his office, the governor had done much to beautify and adorn his
+grounds. A lawn, with its well shaven turf, stretched in front of the
+house for more than a hundred yards, traversed in various directions
+with white gravelled walks, laid out with much taste, and inter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>spersed
+with large elms and poplars. In the centre of the lawn was a beautiful
+summer-house, over which the white jessamine and the honeysuckle,
+planted by Lady Frances' own hand, clambered in rich profusion. The
+house, itself, though if it still remained, it would seem rather quaint
+and old-fashioned, was still very creditable as a work of architecture.
+A long porch, or gallery, supported by simple Doric pillars, stretched
+from one end of it to the other, and gave an air of finish and beauty to
+the building. The house was built of brick, brought all the way from
+England, for although the colonists had engaged in the manufacture of
+brick to a certain extent, yet for many years after the time of which we
+write, they persisted in this extraordinary expense, in supplying the
+materials for their better class of buildings.</p>
+
+<p>At the other end of Stuart street was the state-house, erected in
+pursuance of an act, the preamble of which recites the disgrace of
+having laws enacted and judicial proceedings conducted in an ale-house.
+This building, like the palace, was surrounded by a green lawn,
+ornamented with trees and shrubbery, and enclosed by a handsome
+pale—midway the gate and the portico, on either side of the broad
+gravel walk, were two handsome houses, one of which was the residence of
+Sir Henry Chicherley, Vice-President of the Council, and afterwards
+deputy-governor upon the death of Governor Jeffreys. The other house was
+the residence of Thomas Ludwell, Secretary to the colony, and brother to
+Colonel Philip Ludwell, whose sturdy and unflinching loyalty during the
+rebellion, has preserved his name to our own times.</p>
+
+<p>The state-house, itself, was a large brick building, with two wings, the
+one occupied by the governor and his council, the other by the general
+court, composed indeed of the same persons as the council, but acting in
+a judicial capacity. The centre building was devoted to the House<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>
+Burgesses exclusively, containing their hall, library, and apartments
+for different offices. The whole structure was surmounted by a queer
+looking steeple, resembling most one of those high, peaked hats, which
+Hogarth has placed on the head of Hudibras and his puritan compeers.</p>
+
+<p>Between the palace and the state-house, as we have said before, ran
+Stuart street, the thoroughfare of the little metropolis, well built up
+on either side with stores and the residences of the prominent citizens
+of the town. There was one peculiarity in the proprietors of these
+houses, which will sound strangely in the ears of their descendants.
+Accustomed to the generous hospitality of the present day, the reader
+may be surprised to learn that most of the citizens of old Jamestown
+entertained their guests from the country for a reasonable compensation;
+and so, when the gay cavalier from Stafford or Gloucester had passed a
+week among the gaieties or business of the metropolis,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He called for his horse and he asked for his way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the jolly old landlord cried “<i>Something</i> to pay.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>But when we reflect that Jamestown was the general resort of persons
+from all sections of the colony, and that the tavern accommodations were
+but small, we need not be surprised at a state of things so different
+from the glad and gratuitous welcome of our own day.</p>
+
+<p>Such, briefly and imperfectly described, was old Jamestown, the first
+capital of Virginia, as it appeared in 1676, to the little party of
+travellers, whose fortunes we have been following, as they rode into
+Stuart street, late in the evening of the day on which they left Windsor
+Hall. The arrival, as is usual in little villages, caused quite a
+sensation. The little knot of idlers that gathered about the porch of
+the only regular inn, desisted from whittling the store box, in the
+demolishing of which they had been busily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> engaged—and looked up with
+an impertinent stare at the new comers. Mine host bustled about as the
+carriage drove up before the door, and his jolly red face grew redder by
+his vociferous calls for servants. In obedience to his high behest, the
+servants came—the hostler, an imported cockney, to examine the points
+of the horses committed to his care, and to measure his provender by
+their real worth; the pretty Scotch chambermaid to conduct the ladies to
+their respective rooms, and a brisk and dapper little French barber to
+attack the colonel vehemently with a clothes-brush, as though he had
+hostile designs upon the good man's coat.</p>
+
+<p>Bernard, in the meantime, having promised to come for Virginia, and
+escort her to the famous birth-night ball, rode slowly towards the
+palace; now and then casting a haughty glance around him on those worthy
+gossips, who followed his fine form with their admiring eyes, and
+whispered among themselves that “Some folks was certainly born to luck;
+for look ye, Gaffer, there is a young fribble, come from the Lord knows
+where, and brought into the colony to be put over the heads of many
+worthier; and for all he holds his head so high, and sneers so mighty
+handsome with his lip, who knows what the lad may be. The great folk aye
+make a warm nest for their own bastards, and smooth the outside of the
+blanket as softly as the in, while honester folks must e'en rough it in
+frieze and Duffield. But na'theless, I say nothing, neighbor.”</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“There was a sound of revelry by night—<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Belgium's capital had gathered then<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her beauty and her chivalry; and bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thousand hearts beat happily; and when<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Music arose with its voluptuous swell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soft eyes looked love to eyes that spoke again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And all went merry as a marriage bell.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i28"><i>Childe Harold.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>The ball at Sir William Berkeley's palace was of that character, which,
+in the fashionable world, is described as brilliant; and was long
+remembered by those who attended it, as the last scene of revelry that
+was ever known in Jamestown. The park or lawn which we have described
+was brilliantly illuminated with lamps and transparencies hung from the
+trees. The palace itself was a perfect blaze of light. The coaches of
+the cavaliers rolled in rapid succession around the circular path that
+led to the palace, and deposited their fair burdens, and then rolled
+rapidly away to await the breaking up of the ball. Young beaux, fairly
+glittering with gold embroidery, with their handsome doublets looped
+with the gayest ribbons, and their hair perfumed and oiled, and plaited
+at the sides in the most captivating love-knots; their cheeks
+beplastered with rouge, and their moustache carefully trimmed and
+brushed, passed gracefully to and fro, through the vast hall, and looked
+love to soft eyes that spake again. And those young eyes, how brightly
+did they beam, and how freshly did the young cheeks of their lovely
+owners blush, even above the rouge with which they were painted, as
+they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> met the admiring glance of some favored swain bent lovingly upon
+them! How graceful, too, the attitude which these fair maidens assumed,
+with their long trails sweeping and fairly carpetting the floor, or when
+held up by their tapering fingers, how proudly did they step, as they
+crossed the room to salute the stately and dignified, but now smiling
+Lady Frances Berkeley—and she the queenly centre of that vast throng,
+leaning upon the arm of her noble and venerable husband, with what grace
+and dignity she bowed her turbaned head in response to their
+salutations; and with what a majestic air of gratified vanity did she
+receive the courteous gratulations of the chivalrous cavaliers as they
+wished her many returns of the happy day, and hoped that the hours of
+her life would be marked by the lapse of diamond sands, while roses grew
+under her feet!</p>
+
+<p>Sir William Berkeley, of whose extraordinary character we know far more
+than of any of the earlier governors of Virginia, was now in the evening
+of his long and prosperous life. “For more than thirty years he had
+governed the most flourishing country the sun ever shone upon,”<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> and
+had won for himself golden opinions from all sorts of people. Happy for
+him, and happy for his fame, if he had passed away ere he had become
+“encompassed,” as he himself expresses it, “with rebellion, like
+waters.” To all he had endeared himself by his firmness of character and
+his suavity of manner. In 1659, he was called, by the spontaneous
+acclaim of the people of Virginia, to assume the high functions of the
+government, of which he had been deprived during the Protectorate, and,
+under his lead, Virginia was the first to throw off her allegiance to
+the Protector, and to declare herself the loyal realm of the banished
+Charles. Had William Berkeley died before the troublous scenes which now
+awaited him, and which have cast so dark<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> a shadow upon his character,
+scarce any man in colonial history had left so pure a name, or been
+mourned by sincerer tears. Death is at last the seal of fame, and over
+the grave alone can we form a just estimate of human worth and human
+virtue.</p>
+
+<p>In person he was all that we delight to imagine in one who is truly
+great. Age itself had not bent his tall, majestic figure, which rose,
+like the form of the son of Kish, above all the people. His full black
+eye was clear and piercing, and yet was often softened by a benevolent
+expression. And this was the true nature of his heart, formed at once
+for softness and for rigour. His mouth, though frequently a pleasant
+smile played around it, expressed the inflexible firmness and decision
+of his character. No man to friends was more kind and gentle; no man to
+a foe was more relentless and vindictive. The only indication of
+approaching age was in the silver colour of his hair, which he did not
+conceal with the recently introduced periwig, and which, combed back to
+show to its full advantage his fine broad brow, fell in long silvery
+clusters over his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Around him were gathered the prominent statesmen of the colony, members
+of the Council and of the House of Burgesses, conversing on various
+subjects of political interest. Among those who chose this rational mode
+of entertainment was our old friend, Colonel Henry Temple, who met many
+an old colleague among the guests, and everywhere received the respect
+and attention which his sound sense, his sterling worth, and his former
+services so richly deserved.</p>
+
+<p>The Lady Frances, too, withdrawing her arm from that of her husband,
+engaged in elegant conversation with the elderly dames who sought her
+society; now conversing with easy dignity with the accomplished wives of
+the councillors; now, with high-bred refinement, overlooking the awkward
+blunders of some of the plainer matrons, whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> husbands were in the
+Assembly; and now smiling good-humouredly at the old-fashioned vanity
+and assumed dignity of Mrs. Temple. The comparison of the present order
+of things with that to which she had been accustomed in her earlier
+days, formed, as usual, the chief theme of this good lady's discourse.
+But, to the attentive observer, the glance of pride with which from time
+to time she looked at her daughter, who, with graceful step and glowing
+cheek, was joining in the busy dance, plainly showed that, in some
+respects at least, Mrs. Temple had to acknowledge that the bright
+present had even eclipsed her favourite past.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, to the gay sound of music, amid the bright butterflies of fashion,
+who flew heartlessly through the mazes of the graceful dance, Virginia
+Temple moved—with them, but not of them. She had not forgotten
+Hansford, but she had forgotten self, and, determined to please her
+mother, she had sought to banish from her heart, for the time, the
+sorrow which was still there. She had come to the ball with Bernard, and
+he, seeing well the effort she had made, bent all the powers of his
+gifted mind to interest her thoughts, and beguile them from the
+absorbing subject of her grief. She attributed his efforts to a generous
+nature, and thanked him in her heart for thus devoting himself to her
+pleasure. She had attempted to return his kindness by an assumed
+cheerfulness, which gradually became real and natural, for shadows rest
+not long upon a young heart. They fly from the blooming garden of youth,
+and settle themselves amid the gloom and ruins of hoary age. And never
+had Alfred Bernard thought the fair girl more lovely, as, with just
+enough of pensive melancholy to soften and not to sadden her heart, she
+moved among the gay and thoughtless throng around her.</p>
+
+<p>The room next to the ball-room was appropriated to such of the guests as
+chose to engage in cards and dice; for in this, as in many other
+respects, the colony attempted to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> imitate the vices of the mother
+country. It is true the habit of gaming was not so recklessly
+extravagant as that which disgraced the corrupt court of Charles the
+Second, and yet the old planters were sufficiently bold in their risks,
+and many hundreds of pounds of tobacco often hung upon the turn of the
+dice-box or the pip<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> of a card. Seated around the old fashioned
+card-table of walnut, were sundry groups of those honest burgesses, who
+were ready enough in the discharge of their political functions in the
+state-house, but after the adjournment were fully prepared for all kinds
+of fun. Some were playing at gleek, and, to the uninitiated,
+incomprehensible was the jargon in which the players indulged. “Who'll
+buy the stock?” cries the dealer. “I bid five”—“and I ten”—“and I
+fifty.” Vie, revie, surrevie, capote, double capote, were the terms that
+rang through the room, as the excited gamesters, with anxious faces,
+sorted and examined their cards. At another table was primero, or
+thirty-one, a game very much resembling the more modern game of
+vingt-et-un; and here, too, loud oaths of “damn the luck,” escaped the
+lips of the betters, as, with twenty-two in their hands, they drew a
+ten, and burst with a pip too many. Others were moderate in their risks,
+rattled the dice at tra-trap, and playing for only an angel a game,
+smoked their pipes sociably together, and talked of the various measures
+before the Assembly.</p>
+
+<p>Thus the first hours of the evening passed rapidly away, when suddenly
+the sound of the rebecks<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> ceased in the ball-room, the gaming was
+arrested in an instant, and at the loud cry of hall-a-hall,<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> the
+whole company repaired to the long, broad porch, crowding and pushing
+each other, the unwary cavaliers treading on the long trains of the fair
+ladies, and receiving a well-merited frown for their care<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>lessness. The
+object of this general rush was to see the masque, which was to be
+represented in the porch, illuminated and prepared for the purpose. At
+one end of the porch a stage was erected, with all the simple machinery
+which the ingenuity of the youth of Jamestown could devise, to aid in
+the representation—the whole concealed for the present from the view of
+the spectators by a green baize curtain.</p>
+
+<p>The object of the masque, imitated from the celebrated court masques of
+the seventeenth century, which reflected so much honour on rare Ben
+Jonson, and aided in establishing the early fame of John Milton, was to
+celebrate under a simple allegory the glories of the Restoration. Alfred
+Bernard, who had witnessed such a representation in England, first
+suggested the idea of thus honouring the birth-night of the Lady
+Frances, and the suggestion was eagerly taken hold of by the loyal young
+men of the little colonial capital, who rejoiced in any exhibition that
+might even faintly resemble the revels to which their loyal ancestors,
+before the revolution, were so ardently devoted.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> This is his own language.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Pip signified the spot on a card.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Fiddles.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> The cry of the herald for silence at the beginning of the masque.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Then help with your call<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a hall, a hall!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stand up by the wall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both good-men and tall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We are one man's all!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>The Gipsey Metamorphosea.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>With the hope that a description of the sports and pastimes of their
+ancestors may meet with like favour from the reader, we subjoin the
+following account of this little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> masque which was prepared for the
+happy occasion by Alfred Bernard, aided by the grave chaplain, Arthur
+Hutchinson, and performed by some of the gay gallants and blooming
+damsels of old Jamestown. We flatly disclaim in the outset any
+participation in the resentment or contempt which was felt by these
+loyal Virginians towards the puritan patriots of the revolution.</p>
+
+<p>The curtain rises and discovers the genius of True Liberty, robed in
+white, with a wreath of myrtle around her brow; holding in her right
+hand a sceptre entwined with myrtle, as the emblem of peace, and in her
+left a sprig of evergreen, to represent the fabled Moly<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> of Ulysses.
+As she advances to slow and solemn music, she kneels at an altar clothed
+with black velvet, and raising her eyes to heaven, she exclaims:—</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“How long, oh Heaven! shall power with impious hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In cruel bondage bind proud Britain's land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or heresy in fair Religion's robe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Usurp her empire and control the globe!—<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hypocrisy in true Religion's name<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has filled the land of Britain long with shame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Freedom, captive, languishes in chains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While with her sceptre, Superstition reigns.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Restore, oh Heaven! the reign of peace and love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let thy wisdom to thy people prove<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Freedom too is governed by her rules,—<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No toy for children, and no game for fools;—<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Freed from restraint the erring star would fly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Darkling, and guideless, through the untravelled sky—<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stubborn soil would still refuse to yield<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The whitening harvest of the fertile field;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wanton winds, when loosened from their caves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would drive the bark uncertain through the waves<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">This magnet lost, the sea, the air, the world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To wild destruction would be swiftly hurled!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And say, just Heaven, oh say, is feeble man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alone exempt from thy harmonious plan?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall he alone, in dusky darkness grope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Free from restraint, and free, alas! from hope?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slave to his passions, his unbridled will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slave to himself, and yet a freeman still?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No! teach him in his pride to own that he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can only in obedience be free—<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That even he can only safely move,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When true to loyalty, and true to love.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>As she speaks, a bright star appears at the farther end of the stage,
+and ascending slowly, at length stands over the altar, where she kneels.
+Extending her arm towards the star, she rises and cries in triumph:—</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“I hail the sign, pure as the starry gem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which rested o'er the babe of Bethlehem—<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My prayer is heard, and Heaven's sublime decree<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will rend our chains, and Britain shall be free!”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Then enters the embodiment of Puritanism, represented in the peculiar
+dress of the Roundheads—with peaked hat, a quaint black doublet and
+cloak, rigidly plain, and cut in the straight fashion of the sect; black
+Flemish breeches, and grey hose; huge square-toed shoes, tied with
+coarse leather thongs; and around the waist a buff leather belt, in
+which he wears a sword. He comes in singing, as he walks, one of the
+Puritan versions, or rather perversions of the Psalms, which have so
+grossly marred the exquisite beauty of the original, and of which one
+stanza will suffice the reader:—</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Arise, oh Lord, save me, my God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For thou my foes hast stroke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All on the cheek-bone, and the teeth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of wicked men hast broke.”<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>Then standing at some distance from the altar, he rolls up his eyes,
+till nothing but the whites can be seen, and is exercised in prayer.
+With a smile of bitter contempt the genius of True Liberty proceeds:—</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“See where he comes, with visage long and grim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whining with nasal twang his impious hymn!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See where he stands, nor bows the suppliant knee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He apes the Publican, but acts the Pharisee—<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Snatching the sword of just Jehovah's wrath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And damning all who leave <i>his</i> thorny path.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now by this wand which Hermes, with a smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gave to Ulysses in the Circean isle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will again exert the power divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And change to Britons these disgusting swine.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>She waves the sprig of Moly over the head of the Puritan three or four
+times, who, sensible of the force of the charm, cries out:—</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Hah! what is this! strange feelings fill my heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Avaunt thee, tempter! I defy thy art—<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up, Israel! hasten to your tents, and smite<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These sons of Belial, and th' Amalekite,—<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Philistia is upon us with Goliah,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, call the roll from twelfth of Nehemiah,<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gird up your loins and buckle on your sword,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fight with your prayers, your powder, and the word.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How, General 'Faint-not,'<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> has your spirit sunk?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let not God's soldier yield unto a Monk.”<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Then, as the charm increases, he continues in a feebler voice:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">“Curse on the tempter's art! that heathenish Moly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has in an instant changed my nature wholly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The past, with all its triumphs, is a trance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My legs, once taught to kneel, incline to dance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My voice, which to some holy psalm belongs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is twisting round into these carnal songs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas! I'm lost! New thoughts my bosom swell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Habakuk, Barebones, Cromwell, fare ye well.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Break up conventicles, I do insist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sing the doxology and be dismissed.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>As he finishes the last line, the heavy roll of thunder is heard, and
+suddenly the doors of a dungeon in the background fly open, from which
+emerges the impersonation of Christmas, followed by the Queen of May.
+Christmas is represented by a jolly, round-bellied, red-nosed, laughing
+old fellow, dressed in pure white. His hair is thickly powdered, and his
+face red with rouge. In his right hand he holds a huge mince-pie, which
+ever and anon he gnaws with exquisite humour, and in his left is a bowl
+of generous wassail, from which he drinks long and deeply. His brows are
+twined with misletoe and ivy, woven together in a fantastic wreath, and
+to his hair and different parts of his dress are attached long pendants
+of glass, to represent icicles. As he advances to the right of the
+stage, there descends from the awning above an immense number of small
+fragments of white paper, substitutes for snow-flakes, with which that
+part of the floor is soon completely covered.</p>
+
+<p>The Queen of May takes her position on the left. She is dressed in a
+robe of pure white, festooned with flowers, with a garland of white
+roses twined with evergreen upon her brow. In her hand is held the
+May-pole, adorned with ribbons of white, and blue, and red, alternately
+wrapped around it, and surmounted with a wreath of various flowers. As
+she assumes her place, showers of roses descend from above, envelope her
+in their bloom, and shed a fresh fragrance around the room.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>The Genius of Liberty points out the approaching figures to the Puritan,
+and exclaims:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Welcome, ye happy children of the earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who strew life's weary way with guileless mirth!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus Joy should ever herald in the morn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On which the Saviour of the world was born,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus with rapture should we ever bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fresh flowers to twine around the brow of Spring.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think not, stern mortal, God delights to scan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With fiendish joy, the miseries of man;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think not the groans that rend your bosom here<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are music to Jehovah's listening ear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Formed by His power, the children of His love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man's happiness delights the Sire above;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the light mirth which from his spirit springs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ascends like incense to the King of kings.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Christmas, yawning and stretching himself, then roars out in a merry,
+lusty voice:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“My spirit rejoices to hear merry voices,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With a prospect of breaking my fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For with such a lean platter, these days they call latter<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Were very near being my last.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“In that cursed conventicle, as chill as an icicle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I caught a bad cold in my head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some impudent vassal stole all of my wassail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And left me small beer in its stead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Of all that is royal and all that is loyal<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They made a nice mess of mince-meat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With their guns and gunpowder, and their prayers that are louder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But the de'il a mince-pie did I eat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“No fat sirloin carving, I scarce kept from starving,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And my bones have become almost bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if I were the season of the gunpowder treason,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To be hallowed with fasting and prayer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">“If they fancy pulse diet, like the Jews they may try it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Though I think it is fit but to die on.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But may the Emanuel long keep this new Daniel<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From the den of the brave British Lion.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“In the juice of the barley I'll drink to King Charley,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The bright star of royalty risen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While merry maids laughing and honest men quaffing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shall welcome old Christmas from prison.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>As he thunders out the last stave of his song, the Queen of May steps
+forward, and sings the following welcome to Spring:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Come with blooming cheek, Aurora,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Leading on the merry morn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come with rosy chaplets, Flora,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">See, the baby Spring is born.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Smile and sing each living creature,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Britons, join me in the strain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lo! the Spring is come to Nature,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come to Albion's land again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Winter's chains of icy iron<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Melt before the smile of Spring;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cares that Albion's land environ<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fade before our rising king.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Crown his brow with freshest flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Weave the chaplet fair as May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the sands with golden hours<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Speed his happy life away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Crown his brow with leaves of laurel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Twined with myrtle's branch of peace—<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A hero in fair Britain's quarrel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A lover when her sorrows cease.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Blessings on our royal master,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till in death he lays him down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Free from care and from disaster,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To assume a heavenly crown.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>As she concludes her lay, she places the May-pole in the centre of the
+stage, and a happy throng of gay young swains and damsels enter and
+commence the main dance around it. The Puritan watches them at first
+with a wild gaze, in which horror is mingled with something of
+admiration. Gradually his stern features relax into a grim smile, and at
+last, unable longer to restrain his feelings, he bursts forth in a most
+immoderate and carnal laugh. His feet at first keep time to the gay
+music; he then begins to shuffle them grotesquely on the floor, and
+finally, overcome by the wild spirit of contagion, he unites in the
+dance to the sound of the merry rebecks. While the dance continues, he
+shakes off the straight-laced puritan dress which he had assumed, and
+tossing the peaked hat high in the air, appears, amid the deafening
+shouts of the delighted auditory, in the front of the stage in the rich
+costume of the English court, and with a royal diadem upon his brow, the
+mimic impersonation of Charles the Second.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> The intelligent reader, familiar with the Odyssey, need not to be
+reminded that with this wand of Moly, which Mercury presented to
+Ulysses, the Grecian hero was enabled to restore his unhappy companions,
+who, by the magic of the goddess Circe, had been transformed into swine.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> A true copy from the records.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> “Cromwell,” says an old writer, “hath beat up his drums clean
+through the Old Testament. You may learn the genealogy of our Saviour by
+the names of his regiment. The muster-master has no other list than the
+first chapter of St. Matthew.” If the Puritan sergeant had lost this
+roll, Nehemiah XII. would serve him instead.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> The actual name of one of the Puritans.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> General Monk, the restorer of royalty.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> The Puritans believed the period of the revolution to be the latter
+days spoken of in prophecy.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<div class="narrow">
+<p>“I charge you, oh women! for the love you bear to men, to like as
+much of this play as please you; and I charge you, oh men! for the
+love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering, none of
+you hate them,) that between you and the women the play may
+please.”</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: right;"><i>As you Like It.</i></p>
+
+<p>“There is the devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man;
+a tun of man is thy companion.”</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: right;"><i>Henry IV.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The good-natured guests at the Governor's awarded all due, and more than
+due merit to the masque which was prepared for their entertainment.
+Alfred Bernard became at once the hero of the evening, and many a bright
+eye glanced towards him, and envied the fair Virginia the exclusive
+attention which he paid to her. Some young cavaliers there were, whose
+envy carried them so far, that they sneered at the composition of the
+young poet; declared the speeches of Liberty to be prosy and tiresome;
+and that the song of Christmas was coarse, rugged, and devoid of wit;
+nay, they laughed at the unnatural transformation of the grim-visaged
+Puritan into the royal Charles, and referred sarcastically to the
+pretentious pedantry of the young author, in introducing the threadbare
+story of Ulysses and the Moly into a modern production—and at the
+inconsistent jumble of ancient mythology and pure Christianity. Bernard
+heard them not, and if he had, he would have scorned their strictures,
+instead of resenting them. But he was too much engrossed in conversation
+with Virginia to heed either the good-natured applause of his friends,
+or the peevish jealousy of his young rivals. Indeed, the loyalty of the
+piece amply<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> atoned for all its imperfections, and the old colonists
+smiled and nodded their heads, delighted at the wholesome tone of
+sentiment which characterized the whole production.</p>
+
+<p>The character of Christmas was well sustained by Richard Presley,<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> a
+member of the House of Burgesses, whose jolly good humour, as broad
+sometimes as his portly stomach, fitted him in an eminent degree for the
+part. He was indeed one of those merry old wags, who, in an illustrated
+edition of Milton, might have appeared in L'Allegro, to represent the
+idea of “Laughter holding both his sides.”</p>
+
+<p>Seeing Sir William Berkeley and Colonel Temple engaged in earnest
+conversation, in one corner of the room, the old burgess bustled, or
+rather waddled up to them, and remaining quiet just long enough to hear
+the nature of their conversation chimed in, with,</p>
+
+<p>“Talking about Bacon, Governor? Why he is only imitating old St. Albans,
+and trying to establish a <i>novum organum</i> in Virginia. By God, it seems
+to me that Sir Nicholas exhausted the whole of his <i>mediocria firma</i>
+policy, and left none of it to his kinsmen. Do you not know what he
+meant by that motto, Governor?”</p>
+
+<p>“No;” said Sir William, smiling blandly.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I'll tell you, and add another wrinkle to your face. Mediocria
+firma, when applied to Bacon, means nothing more nor less than sound
+middlings. But I tell you what, this young mad-cap, Bacon, will have to
+adopt the motto of another namesake of his, and ancestor, perhaps, for
+friars aye regarded their tithes more favourably than their vows of
+virtue—and were fathers in the church as well by the first as the
+second birth.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>“What ancestor do you allude to now, Dick?” asked the Governor.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, old Friar Bacon, who lamented that time was, time is, and time
+will be. And to my mind, when time shall cease with our young squealing
+porker here, we will e'en substitute hemp in its stead.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thou art a mad wag, Presley,” said the Governor, laughing, “and seem to
+have sharpened thy wit by strapping it on the Bible containing the whole
+Bacon genealogy. Come, Temple, let me introduce to your most favourable
+acquaintance, Major Richard Presley, the Falstaff of Virginia, with as
+big a paunch, and if not as merry a wit, at least as great a love for
+sack—aye, Presley?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but indifferent honest, Governor, which I fear my great prototype
+was not,” replied the old wag, as he shook hands with Colonel Temple.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I believe you can be trusted, Dick,” said the Governor, kindly,
+“and I may yet give you a regiment of foot to quell this modern young
+Hotspur of Virginia.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, that would be rare fun,” said Presley, with a merry laugh, “but
+look ye, I must take care to attack him in as favourable circumstances
+as the true Falstaff did, or 'sblood he might embowell me.”</p>
+
+<p>“I would like to own the tobacco that would be raised over your grave
+then, Dick,” said the Governor, laughing, “but never fear but I will
+supply you with a young Prince Hal, as merry, as wise, and as brave.”</p>
+
+<p>“Which is he, then? for I can't tell your true prince by instinct yet.”</p>
+
+<p>“There he stands talking to Miss Virginia Temple. You know him, Colonel
+Temple, and I trust that you have not found that my partiality has
+overrated his real merit.”</p>
+
+<p>“By no means,” returned Temple; “I never saw a young man with whom I was
+more pleased. He is at once so ingenuous and frank, and so intelligent
+and just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> in his views and opinions on all subjects—who is he, Sir
+William? One would judge, from his whole mien and appearance, that noble
+blood ran in his veins.”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe not,” replied Berkeley, “or if so, as old Presley would say,
+he was hatched in the nest where some noble eagle went a birding. I am
+indebted to my brother, Lord Berkeley, for both my chaplain and my
+private secretary. Good Parson Hutchinson seems to have been the
+guardian of Bernard in his youth, but what may be the real relation
+between them I am unable to say.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps, like Major Presley's old Friar Bacon,” said Temple, “the good
+parson may have been guilty of some indiscretion in his youth, for which
+he would now atone by his kindness to the offspring of his early crime.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hardly so,” replied the Governor, “or he would probably acknowledge him
+openly as his son, without all this mystery. I have several times hinted
+at the subject to Mr. Hutchinson, but it seems to produce so much real
+sorrow, that I have never pushed my inquiries farther. All that I know
+is what I tell you, that my brother, in whose parish this Mr. Hutchinson
+long officiated as rector, recommended him to me—and the young man, who
+has been thoroughly educated by his patron, or guardian, by the same
+recommendation, has been made my private secretary.”</p>
+
+<p>“He is surely worthy to fill some higher post,” said Temple.</p>
+
+<p>“And he will not want my aid in building up his fortunes,” returned
+Berkeley; “but they have only been in the colony about six months as
+yet—and the young man has entwined himself about my heart like a son.
+My own bed, alas! is barren, as you know, and it seems that a kind
+providence had sent this young man here as a substitute for the
+offspring which has been denied to me. See Temple,” he added, in a
+whisper, “with what admiring eyes he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> regards your fair daughter. And if
+an old man may judge of such matters, it is with maiden modesty
+returned.”</p>
+
+<p>“I think that you are at fault,” said Temple, with a sigh; “my
+daughter's affections are entirely disengaged at present.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, time will develope which of us is right. It would be a source of
+pride and pleasure, Harry, if I could live to see a union between this,
+my adopted boy, and the daughter of my early friend,” said the old
+Governor, as a tear glistened in his eye; “but come, Presley, the
+dancing has ceased for a time,” he added aloud, “favour the company with
+a song.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, damn it, Governor,” replied the old burgess, “my songs won't suit a
+lady's ear. They are intended for the rougher sex.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, never fear,” said the Governor, “I will check you if I find you
+are overleaping the bounds of propriety.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very well, here goes then—a loyal ditty that I heard in old England,
+about five years agone, while I was there on a visit. Proclaim order,
+and join in the chorus as many as please.”</p>
+
+<p>And with a loud, clear, merry voice, the old burgess gave vent to the
+following, which he sung to the tune of the “Old and Young Courtier;” an
+air which has survived even to our own times, though adapted to the more
+modernized words, and somewhat altered measure of the “Old English
+Gentleman:”—</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Young Charley is a merry prince; he's come unto his own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And long and merrily may he fill his martyred father's throne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With merry laughter may he drown old Nolly's whining groan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when he dies bequeath his crown to royal flesh and bone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Like a merry King of England,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">And England's merry King.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">“With bumpers full, to royal Charles, come fill the thirsty glasses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pride of every loyal heart, the idol of the masses;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet in the path of virtue fair, old Joseph far surpasses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The merry prince, whose sparkling eye delights in winsome lasses.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Like a merry King of England,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">And England's merry King.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“For Joseph from dame Potiphar, as holy men assert,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leaving his garment in her hand, did naked fly unhurt;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Charley, like an honest lad, will not a friend desert,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so he still remains behind, nor leaves his only shirt.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Like a merry King of England,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">And England's merry King.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Then here's to bonny Charley, he is a prince divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hates a Puritan as much as Jews detest a swine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, faith, he loves a shade too much his mistresses and wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which makes me fear that he will not supply the royal line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">With a merry King of England,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">And England's merry King.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The singer paused, and loud and rapturous was the applause which he
+received, until, putting up his hand in a deprecating manner, silence
+was again restored, and with an elaborate <i>impromptu</i>, which it had
+taken him about two hours that morning to spin from his old brain, he
+turned to Berkeley, and burst forth again.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Nor let this mirror of the king by us remain unsung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To whom the hopes of Englishmen in parlous times have clung:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let Berkeley's praises still be heard from every loyal tongue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Bacon and his hoggish herd be cured, and then be hung.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Like young rebels of the King,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">And the King's young rebels.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Various were the comments drawn forth by the last volunteer stanza of
+the old loyalist. With lowering looks, some of the guests conversed
+apart in whispers, for there were a good many in the Assembly, who,
+though not entirely approving the conduct of Bacon, were favourably
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>disposed to his cause. Sir William Berkeley himself restrained his
+mirth out of respect for a venerable old man, who stood near him, and
+towards whom many eyes were turned in pity. This was old Nathaniel
+Bacon, the uncle of the young insurgent, and himself a member of the
+council. There were dark rumours afloat, that this old man had advised
+his nephew to break his parole and fly from Jamestown; but, although
+suspicion had attached to him, it could never be confirmed. Even those
+who credited the rumour rather respected the feelings of a near
+relative, in thus taking the part of his kinsman, than censured his
+conduct as savouring of rebellion.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> This jovial old colonist is referred to in the T. M. account of the
+Rebellion.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“And first she pitched her voice to sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then glanced her dark eye on the king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then around the silent ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And laughed, and blushed, and oft did say<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her pretty oath, by yea and nay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She could not, would not, durst not play.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i28"><i>Marmion.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>“How did <i>you</i> like Major Presley's song?” said Bernard to Virginia, as
+he leaned gracefully over her chair, and played carelessly with the
+young girl's fan.</p>
+
+<p>“Frankly, Mr. Bernard,” she replied, “not at all. There was only one
+thing which seemed to me appropriate in the exhibition.”</p>
+
+<p>“And what was that?”</p>
+
+<p>“The coarse language and sentiment of the song comported well with the
+singer.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>“Oh, really, Miss Temple,” returned Bernard, “you are too harsh in your
+criticism. It is not fair to reduce the habits and manners of others to
+your own purer standard of excellence, any more than to censure the
+scanty dress of your friend Mamalis, which, however picturesque in
+itself, would scarcely become the person of one of these fair ladies
+here.”</p>
+
+<p>“And yet,” said Virginia, blushing crimson at the allusion, “there can
+be no other standard by which I at least can be governed, than that
+established by my own taste and judgment. You merely asked me <i>my</i>
+opinion of Major Presley's performance; others, it is true, may differ
+with me, but their decisions can scarcely affect my own.”</p>
+
+<p>“The fact that there is such a wide variance in the taste of
+individuals,” argued Bernard, “should, however, make us cautious of
+condemning that which may be sustained by the judgment of so many. Did
+you know, by the way, Miss Virginia, that 'habit' and 'custom' are
+essentially the same words as 'habit' and 'costume.' This fact—for the
+history of a nation may almost be read in the history of its
+language—should convince you that the manners and customs of a people
+are as changeable as the fashions of their dress.”</p>
+
+<p>“I grant you,” said Virginia, “that the mere manners of a people may
+change in many respects; but true taste, when founded on a true
+appreciation of right, can never change.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, yes it can,” replied her companion, who delighted in bringing the
+young girl out, as he said, and plying her with specious sophisms.
+“Beauty, certainly, is an absolute and not a relative emotion, and yet
+what is more changeable than a taste in beauty. The Chinese bard will
+write a sonnet on the oblique eyes, flat nose and club feet of his
+saffron Amaryllis, while he would revolt with horror from the fair
+features of a British lassie. Old Uncle Giles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> will tell you that the
+negro of his Congo coast paints his Obi devil white, in order to inspire
+terror in the hearts of the wayward little Eboes. The wild Indians of
+Virginia dye their cheeks—”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, there you will not find so great a difference between us,” said
+Virginia, interrupting him, as she pointed to the plastered rouge on
+Bernard's cheek. “But really, Mr. Bernard, you can scarcely be serious
+in an opinion so learnedly argued. You must acknowledge that right and
+wrong are absolute terms, and that a sense of them is inherent in our
+nature.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well then, seriously, my dear Miss Temple,” replied Bernard, “I do not
+see so much objection to the gay society of England, which is but a
+reflection from the mirror of the court of Charles the Second.”</p>
+
+<p>“When the mirror is stained or imperfect, Mr. Bernard, the image that it
+reflects must be distorted too. That society which breaks down the
+barriers that a refined sentiment has erected between the sexes, can
+never develope in its highest perfection the purity of the human heart.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I give up the argument,” said Bernard, “for where sentiment is
+alone concerned, there is no more powerful advocate than woman. But, my
+dear Miss Temple, you who have such a pure and correct taste on this
+subject, can surely illustrate your own idea by an example. Will you not
+sing? I know you can—your mother told me so.”</p>
+
+<p>“You must excuse me, Mr. Bernard; I would willingly oblige you, but I
+fear I could not trust my voice among so many strangers.”</p>
+
+<p>“You mistake your own powers,” urged Bernard. “There is nothing easier,
+believe me, after the first few notes of the voice, which sound
+strangely enough I confess, than for any one to recover self-possession
+entirely. I well remember the first time I attempted to speak before a
+large audience. When I arose to my feet, my knees trembled, and my lips<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>
+actually felt heavy as lead. It seemed as though every drop of blood in
+my system rushed back to my heart. The vast crowd before me was nothing
+but an immense assemblage of eyes, all bent with the most burning power
+upon me; and when at length I opened my mouth, and first heard the tones
+of my own voice, it sounded strange and foreign to my ear. It seemed as
+though it was somebody else, myself and yet not myself, who was
+speaking; and my utterance was so choked and discordant, that I would
+have given worlds if I could draw back the words that escaped me. But
+after a half dozen sentences, I became perfectly composed and
+self-possessed, and cared no more for the gaping crowd than for the idle
+wind which I heed not. So it will be with your singing, but rest assured
+that the discord of your voice will only exist in your own fancy. Now
+will you oblige me?”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed, Mr. Bernard, I cannot say that you have offered much
+inducement,” said Virginia, laughing at the young man's description of
+his forensic debut. “Nothing but the strongest sense of duty would impel
+me to pass through such an ordeal as that which you have described.
+Seriously you must excuse me. I cannot sing.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh yes you can, my dear,” said her mother, who was standing near, and
+heard the latter part of the conversation. “What's the use of being so
+affected about it! You know you can sing, my dear—and I like to see
+young people obliging.”</p>
+
+<p>“That's right, Mrs. Temple,” said Bernard, “help me to urge my petition;
+I don't think Miss Virginia can be disobedient, even if it were in her
+power to be disobliging.”</p>
+
+<p>“The fact is, Mr. Bernard,” said the old lady, “that the young people of
+the present day require so much persuading, that its hardly worth the
+trouble to get them to do any thing.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, mother, if you put it on that ground,” said Vir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>ginia, “I suppose
+I must waive my objections and oblige you.”</p>
+
+<p>So saying, she rose, and taking Bernard's arm, she seated herself at
+Lady Frances' splendid harp, which was sent from England as a present by
+her brother-in-law, Lord Berkeley. Drawing off her white gloves, and
+running her little tapering fingers over the strings, Virginia played a
+melancholy symphony, which accorded well with the sad words that came
+more sadly on the ear through the medium of her plaintive voice:—</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Fondly they loved, and her trusting heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With the hopes of the future bounded,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the trumpet of Freedom condemned them to part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the knell of their happiness sounded.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“But his is a churl's and a traitor's choice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who, deaf to the call of duty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would linger, allured by a syren's voice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On the Circean island of beauty.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“His country called! he had heard the sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And kissed the pale cheek of the maiden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then staunched with his blood his country's wound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And ascended in glory to Aidenn.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“The shout of victory lulled him to sleep<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The slumber that knows no dreaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a martyr's reward he will proudly reap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the grateful tears of Freemen.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“And long shall the maidens remember her love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And heroes shall dwell on his story;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She died in her constancy like the lone dove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But he like an eagle in glory.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Oh let the dark cypress mourn over her grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And light rest the green turf upon her;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While over his ashes the laurel shall wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For he sleeps in the proud bed of honour.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>The reader need not be told that this simple little ballad derived new
+beauty from the feeling with which Virginia sang it. The remote
+connection of its story with her own love imparted additional sadness to
+her sweet voice, and as she dwelt on the last line, her eyes filled with
+tears and her voice trembled. Bernard marked the effect which had been
+produced, and a thrill of jealousy shot through his heart at seeing this
+new evidence of the young girl's constancy.</p>
+
+<p>But while he better understood her feelings than others around her, all
+admired the plaintive manner in which she had rendered the sentiment of
+the song, and attributed her emotion to her own refined appreciation and
+taste. Many were the compliments which were paid to the fair young
+minstrel by old and young; by simpering beaux and generous maidens. Sir
+William Berkeley, himself, gallantly kissed her cheek, and said that
+Lady Frances might well be jealous of so fair a rival; and added, that
+if he were only young again, Windsor Hall might be called upon to yield
+its fair inmate to adorn the palace of the Governor of Virginia.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Give me more love or more disdain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The torrid or the frozen zone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bring equal ease unto my pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The temperate affords me none;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Either extreme of love or hate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is sweeter than a calm estate.”—<i>Thomas Carew.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>While Virginia thus received the meed of merited applause at the hands
+of all who were truly generous, there were some then, as there are many
+now, in whose narrow and sterile hearts the success of another is ever a
+sufficient incentive to envy and depreciation. Among these was a young
+lady, who had hitherto been the especial favourite of Alfred Bernard,
+and to whom his attentions had been unremittingly paid. This young lady,
+Miss Matilda Bray, the daughter of one of the councillors, vented her
+spleen and jealousy in terms to the following purport, in a conversation
+with the amiable and accomplished Caroline Ballard.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you ever, Caroline, see any thing so forward as that Miss Temple?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am under a different impression,” replied her companion. “I was
+touched by the diffidence and modesty of her demeanor.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don't know what you call diffidence and modesty; screeching here at
+the top of her voice and drowning every body's conversation. Do you
+think, for instance, that you or I would presume to sing in as large a
+company as this—with every body gazing at us like a show.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, my dear Matilda, I don't think that we would. First, because no one
+would be mad enough to ask us;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> and, secondly, because if we did
+presume, every body would be stopping their ears, instead of admiring us
+with their eyes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Speak for yourself,” retorted Matilda. “I still hold to my opinion,
+that it was impertinent to be stopping other people's enjoyment to
+listen to her.”</p>
+
+<p>“On the contrary, I thought it a most welcome interruption, and I
+believe that most of the guests, as well as Sir William Berkeley,
+himself, concurred with me in opinion.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I never saw any body so spiteful as you've grown lately,
+Caroline. There's no standing you. I suppose you will say next that this
+country girl is beautiful too, with her cotton head and blue china
+eyes.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am a country girl myself, Matilda,” returned Caroline, “and as for
+the beauty of Miss Temple, whatever I may think, I believe that our
+friend, Mr. Bernard, is of that opinion.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you needn't think, with your provoking laugh,” said Miss Bray,
+“that I care a fig for Mr. Bernard's attention to her.”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn't say so.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, but you thought so, and you know you did; and what's more, it's too
+bad that you should take such a delight in provoking me. I believe it's
+all jealousy at last.”</p>
+
+<p>“Jealousy, my dear Matilda,” said her companion, “is a jaundiced jade,
+that thinks every object is of its own yellow colour. But see, the dance
+is about to commence again, and here comes my partner. You must excuse
+me.” And with a smile of conscious beauty, Caroline Ballard gave her
+hand to the handsome young gallant who approached her.</p>
+
+<p>Bernard and Virginia, too, rose from their seats, but, to the surprise
+of Matilda Bray, they did not take their places in the dance, but walked
+towards the door. Bernard saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> how his old flame was writhing with
+jealousy, and as he passed her he said, maliciously,</p>
+
+<p>“Good evening, Miss Matilda; I hope you are enjoying the ball.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, thank you, exceedingly,” said Miss Bray, patting her foot
+hysterically on the floor, and darting from her fine black eyes an angry
+glance, which gave the lie to her words.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving her to digest her spleen at her leisure, the handsome pair
+passed out of the ball-room and into the lawn. It was already thronged
+with merry, laughing young people, who, wearied with dancing, were
+promenading through the gravelled walks, or sitting on the rural
+benches, arranged under the spreading trees.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, this is really refreshing,” said the young girl, as she smoothed
+back her tresses from her brow, to enjoy the delicious river breeze.
+“Those rooms were very oppressive.”</p>
+
+<p>“I scarcely found them so,” said Bernard, gallantly; “for when the mind
+is agreeably occupied we soon learn to forget any inconvenience to which
+the body may be subjected. But I knew you would enjoy a walk through
+this fine lawn.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, indeed I do; and truly, Mr. Bernard,” said the ingenuous girl, “I
+have much to thank you for. Nearly a stranger in Jamestown, you have
+made my time pass happily away, though I fear you have deprived yourself
+of the society of others far more agreeable.”</p>
+
+<p>“My dear Miss Temple, I will not disguise from you, even to retain your
+good opinion of my generosity, the fact that my attention has not been
+so disinterested as you suppose.”</p>
+
+<p>“I thank you, sir,” said Virginia, “for the compliment; but I am afraid
+that I have not been so agreeable, in return for your civility, as I
+should. You were witness to a scene, Mr. Bernard, which would make it
+useless to deny that I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> have much reason to be sad; and it makes me more
+unhappy to think that I may affect others by my gloom.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know to what you allude,” replied Bernard, “and believe me, fair
+girl, sweeter to me is this sorrow in your young heart, than all the
+gaudy glitter of those vain children of fashion whom we have left. But,
+alas! I myself have much cause to be sad—the future looms darkly before
+me, and I see but little left in life to make it long desirable.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, say not so,” said Virginia, moved by the air of deep melancholy
+which Bernard had assumed, but mistaking its cause. “You are young yet,
+and the future should be bright. You have talents, acquirements,
+everything to ensure success; and the patronage and counsel of Sir
+William Berkeley will guide you in the path to honourable distinction.
+Fear not, my friend, but trust hopefully in the future.”</p>
+
+<p>“There is one thing, alas!” said Bernard, in the same melancholy tone,
+“without which success itself would scarcely be desirable.”</p>
+
+<p>“And what is that?” said the young girl, artlessly. “Believe me, you
+will always find in me, Mr. Bernard, a warm friend, and a willing if not
+an able counsellor.”</p>
+
+<p>“But this is not all,” cried Bernard, passionately. “Does not your own
+heart tell you that there must be something more than friendship to
+satisfy the longings of a true heart? Oh, Virginia—yes, permit me to
+call you by a name now doubly dear to me, as the home of my adoption and
+as the object of my earnest love. Dearest Virginia, sweet though it be
+to the heart of a lonely orphan, drifting like a sailless vessel in this
+rugged world, to have such a friend, yet sweeter far would it be to live
+in the sunlight of your love.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Bernard!” exclaimed Virginia, with unfeigned surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, dearest, do you, can you wonder at this revelation? I had striven,
+but in vain, to conceal a hope<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> which I knew was too daring. Oh, do not
+by a word destroy the faint ray which has struggled so bravely in my
+heart.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Bernard,” said Virginia, as she withdrew her arm from his, “I can
+no longer permit this. If your feelings be such as you profess, and as I
+believe they are—for I know your nature to be honorable—I regret that
+I can only respect a sentiment which I can never return.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, say not thus, my own Virginia, just as a new life begins to dawn
+upon me. At least be not so hasty in a sentence which seals my fate
+forever.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am not too hasty,” replied Virginia. “But I would think myself
+unworthy of the love you have expressed, if I held out hopes which can
+never be realized. You know my position is a peculiar one. My hand but
+not my heart is disengaged. Nor could you respect the love of a woman
+who could so soon forget one with whom she had promised to unite her
+destiny through life. I have spoken thus freely, Mr. Bernard, because I
+think it due to your feelings, and because I am assured that what I say
+is entrusted to an honourable man.”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed, my dear Miss Temple, if such you can only be to me,” said her
+wily lover, “I do respect from my heart your constancy to your first
+love. That unwavering devotion to another, whom I esteem, because he is
+loved by you, only makes you more worthy to be won. May I not still hope
+that time may supply the niche, made vacant in your heart, by another
+whose whole life shall be devoted to the one object of making you
+happy?”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Bernard, candour compels me to say no, my friend; there are vows
+which even time, with its destroying hand can never erase, and which are
+rendered stronger and more sacred by the very circumstances which
+prevent their accomplishment. Fate, my friend, may interpose her stern
+decree and forever separate me from the presence of Mr. Hans<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>ford, but
+my heart is still unchangeably his. Ha! what is that?” she added, with a
+faint scream, as from the little summer-house, which we have before
+described, there came a deep, prolonged groan.</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke, and as Bernard laid his hand upon his sword to avenge
+himself upon the intruder, a dark figure issued from the door of the
+arbor, and stood before them. The young man stood appalled as he
+recognized by the uncertain light of a neighbouring lamp, the dark,
+swarthy features of Master Hutchinson, the chaplain of the Governor.</p>
+
+<p>“Put up your sword, young man,” said the preacher, gravely; “they who
+use the sword shall perish by the sword.”</p>
+
+<p>“In the devil's name,” cried Bernard, forgetful of the presence of
+Virginia, “how came you here?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not to act the spy at least,” said Hutchinson, “such is not my
+character. Suffice it to say, that I came as you did, to enjoy this
+fresh air—and sought the quiet of this arbour to be free from the
+intrusion of others. I have lived too long to care for the frivolities
+which I have heard, and your secret is safe in my breast—a repository
+of many a darker confidence than that.” With these words the bent form
+of the melancholy preacher passed out of their sight.</p>
+
+<p>“A singular man,” said Bernard, in a troubled voice, “but entirely
+innocent in his conduct. An abstracted book-worm, he moves through the
+world like a stranger in it. Will you return now?”</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you,” said Virginia, “most willingly—for I confess my nerves are
+a little unstrung by the fright I received. And now, my friend, pardon
+me for referring to what has passed, but you will still be my friend,
+won't you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, certainly,” said Bernard, in an abstracted manner. “I wonder,” he
+muttered “what he could have meant by that hideous groan?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>And sadly and silently the rejected lover and his unhappy companion
+returned to the heartless throng, who still lit up the palace with their
+hollow smiles.</p>
+
+<p>Alike the joyous dance, the light mirth, and the splendid entertainment
+passed unheeded by Virginia, as she sat silently abstracted, and
+returned indifferent answers to the questions which were asked her. And
+Bernard, the gay and fascinating Bernard, wandered through the crowd,
+like a troubled spectre, and ever and anon muttered to himself, “I
+wonder what he could have meant by that hideous groan?”</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“His heart has not half uttered itself yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And much remains to do as well as they.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The heart is sometime ere it finds its focus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when it does with the whole light of nature<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strained through it to a hair's breadth, it but burns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The things beneath it which it lights to death.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Festus.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>And now the ball is over. Mothers wait impatiently for their fair
+daughters, who are having those many last words so delightful to them,
+and so provoking to those who await their departure. Carriages again
+drive to the door, and receive their laughing, bright-eyed burdens, and
+then roll away through the green lawn, while the lamps throw their
+broad, dark shadows on the grass. Gay young cavaliers, who have come
+from a distance to the ball, exchange their slippers for their heavy
+riding-boots and spurs, and mount<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> their pawing and impatient steeds.
+Sober-sided old statesmen walk away arm-in-arm, and discuss earnestly
+the business of the morrow. The gamesters and dicers depart, some with
+cheerful smiles, chuckling over their gains, and others with empty
+pockets, complaining how early the party had broken up, and proposing a
+renewal of the game the next night at the Blue Chamber at the Garter
+Inn. Old Presley has evidently, to use his own phrase, “got his load,”
+and waddling away to his quarters, he winks his eye mischievously at the
+lamps, which, under the multiplying power of his optics, have become
+more in number than the stars. Thus the guests all pass away, and the
+lights which flit for a few moments from casement to casement in the
+palace, are one by one extinguished, and all is dark, save where one
+faint candle gleams through an upper window and betrays the watchfulness
+of the old chaplain.</p>
+
+<p>And who is he, with his dark, melancholy eyes, which tell so plainly of
+the chastened heart—he who seeming so gentle and kind to all, reserves
+his sternness for himself alone—and who, living in love with all God's
+creatures, seems to hate with bitterness his own nature? It was not then
+as it is sometimes now, that every man's antecedents were inquired into
+and known, and that the young coxcomb, who disgraces the name that he
+bears and the lineage of which he boasts, is awarded a higher station in
+society than the self-sustaining and worthy son of toil, who builds his
+reputation on the firmer foundation of substantial worth. Every ship
+brought new emigrants from England, who had come to share the fate and
+to develope the destiny of the new colony, and who immediately assumed
+the position in society to which their own merit entitled them. And thus
+it was, that when Arthur Hutchinson came to Virginia, no one asked,
+though many wondered, what had blighted his heart, and cast so dark a
+shadow on his path. There was one man in the colony,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> and one alone, who
+had known him before—and yet Alfred Bernard, with whom he had come to
+Virginia, seemed to know little more of his history and his character
+than those to whom he was an entire stranger.</p>
+
+<p>Arthur Hutchinson was in appearance about fifty years of age. His long
+hair, which had once been black as the raven's wing, but was now thickly
+sprinkled with grey, fell profusely over his stooping shoulders. There
+was that, too, in the deep furrows on his broad brow, and in the
+expression of his pale thin lips which told that time and sorrow had
+laid their heavy hands upon him. As has been before remarked, by the
+recommendation of Lord Berkeley, which had great weight with his
+brother, Hutchinson had been installed as Chaplain to Sir William, and
+through his influence with the vestry, presented to the church in
+Jamestown. Although, with his own private resources, the scanty
+provision of sixteen thousand pounds of tobacco per annum, (rated at
+about eighty pounds sterling,) was ample for his comfortable support,
+yet good Master Hutchinson had found it very convenient to accept Sir
+William Berkeley's invitation to make his home at the palace. Here,
+surrounded by his books, which he regarded more as cheerful companions,
+than as grim instructors, he passed his life rather in inoffensive
+meditation than in active usefulness. The sad and quiet reserve of his
+manners, which seemed to spring from the memory of some past sorrow,
+that while it had ceased to give pain, was still having its silent
+effect upon its victim, made him the object of pity to all around him.
+The fervid eloquence and earnestness of his sermons carried conviction
+to the minds of the doubting, arrested the attention of the thoughtless
+and the wayward, and administered the balm of consolation to the
+afflicted child of sorrow. The mysterious influence which he exerted
+over the proud spirit of Alfred Bernard, even by one reproving glance
+from those big, black, melan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>choly eyes, struck all who knew them with
+astonishment. He took but little interest in the political condition of
+the colony, or in the state of society around him, and while, by this
+estrangement, and his secluded life, he made but few warm friends, he
+made no enemies. The good people of the parish were content to let the
+parson pursue his own quiet life undisturbed, and he lost none of their
+respect, while he gained much of their regard by his refusal to make the
+influence of the church the weapon of political warfare.</p>
+
+<p>Hutchinson, who had retired to his room some time before the guests had
+separated, was quietly reading from one of the old fathers, when his
+attention was arrested by a low tap at the door, which he at once
+recognized as Bernard's. At the intimation to come in, the young man
+entered, and throwing himself into a chair, he rested his face upon his
+hand, and sighed deeply.</p>
+
+<p>“Alfred,” said the preacher, after watching him for a moment in silence,
+“I am glad you have come. I have somewhat to say to you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, sir, I will hear you patiently. What would you say?”</p>
+
+<p>“I would warn you against letting a young girl divert you from the
+pursuit of higher objects than are to be attained by love.”</p>
+
+<p>“How, sir?” exclaimed Bernard, with surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“Alfred Bernard, look at me. Read in this pale withered visage, these
+sunken cheeks, this bent form, and this broken heart, the brief summary
+of a history which cannot yet be fully known. You have seen and known
+that I am not as other men—that I walk through the world a stranger
+here, and that my home is in the dark dungeon of my own bitter thoughts.
+Would you know what has thus severed the chain which bound me to the
+world? Would you know what it is that has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> blighted a heart which might
+have borne rich fruit, and turned it to ashes? Would you know what is
+the vulture, too cruel to destroy, which feeds upon this doomed form?”</p>
+
+<p>“In God's name, Mr. Hutchinson, why do you speak thus wildly?” said
+Bernard, for he had never before heard such language fall from the lips
+of the reserved and quiet preacher. “I know that you have had your
+sorrows, for the foot-prints of sorrow are indeed on you, but I have
+often admired the stoical philosophy with which you have borne the
+burden of care.”</p>
+
+<p>“Stoical philosophy!” exclaimed the preacher, pressing his hand to his
+heart. “The name that the world has given to the fire which burns here,
+and whose flame is never seen. Think you the pain is less, because all
+the heat is concentrated in the heart, not fanned into a flame by the
+breath of words?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, call it what you will,” said Bernard, “and suffer as you will,
+but why reserve until to-night a revelation which you have so long
+refused to make?”</p>
+
+<p>“Simply because to-night I have seen and heard that which induces me to
+warn you from the course that you are pursuing. Young man, beware how
+you seek your happiness in a woman's smile.”</p>
+
+<p>“You must excuse me, my old friend,” said Bernard, smiling, “if I remind
+you of an old adage which teaches us that a burnt child dreads the fire.
+If trees were sentient, would you have them to fly from the generous
+rain of heaven, by which they grow, and live, and bloom, because,
+forsooth, one had been blasted by the lightning of the storm?”</p>
+
+<p>Hutchinson only replied with a melancholy shake of the head, and the two
+men gazed at each other in silence. Bernard, with all his sagacity and
+knowledge of human nature, in vain attempted to read the secret thoughts
+of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> his old guardian, whose dark eyes, lit up for a moment with
+excitement, had now subsided into the pensive melancholy which we have
+more than once remarked. The affectionate solicitude with which he had
+ever treated him, prevented Bernard from being offended at his freedom,
+and yet, with a vexed heart, he vainly strove to solve a mystery which
+thus seemed to surround Virginia and himself, who, until a few days
+before, had been entire strangers to each other.</p>
+
+<p>“Alfred Bernard,” said the old man at length, with his sweet gentle
+voice, “do you remember your father? You are very like him.”</p>
+
+<p>“How can you ask me such a question, when you yourself have told me so
+often that I never saw him.”</p>
+
+<p>“True, I had forgotten,” returned Hutchinson, with a sigh, “but your
+mother you remember?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh yes,” said the young man, with a tear starting in his eye, “I can
+never forget her sad, pensive countenance. I have been a wild, bad man,
+Mr. Hutchinson, but often in my darkest hours, the memory of my mother
+would come over me, as though her spirit, like a dove, was descending
+from her place in heaven to watch over her boy. Alas! I feel that if I
+had followed the precepts which she taught me, I would now be a better
+and a happier man.”</p>
+
+<p>No heart is formed entirely hard; there are moments and memories which
+melt the most obdurate heart, as the wand of the prophet smote water
+from the rock. And Alfred Bernard, with all his cold scepticism and
+selfish nature, was for a moment sincerely repentant.</p>
+
+<p>“I have often thought, Mr. Hutchinson,” he continued, “that if it had
+pleased heaven to give me some near relative on earth, around whom my
+heart could delight to cling, I would have been a better man. Some kind
+brother who could aid and sympathize with me in my struggle with the
+world, or some gentle sister, in whose love I could con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>fide, and to
+whose sweet society I might repair from the bitter trials of this rugged
+life; if these had been vouchsafed me, my heart would have expanded into
+more sympathy with my race than it can ever now feel.”</p>
+
+<p>Hutchinson smiled sadly, and replied—</p>
+
+<p>“It has been my object in life, Alfred Bernard, to supply the place of
+those nearer and dearer objects of affection which have been denied you.
+I hope in this I have not been unsuccessful.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am aware, Mr. Hutchinson,” said Bernard, bitterly, “that to you I am
+indebted for my education and support. I hope I have ever manifested a
+becoming sense of gratitude, and I only regret that in this alone am I
+able to repay you.”</p>
+
+<p>“And do you think that I wished to remind you of your dependence,
+Alfred? Oh, no—you owe me nothing. I have discharged towards you a
+solemn, a sacred duty, which you had a right to claim. I took you, a
+little homeless orphan, and sought to cultivate your mind and train your
+heart. In the first you have done more than justice to my tuition and my
+care. I am proud of the plant that I have reared. But how have you
+repaid me? You have imbibed sentiments and opinions abhorrent to all
+just and moral men. You have slighted my advice, and at times have even
+threatened the adviser.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you refer to the difference in our faith,” said Bernard, “you must
+remember that it was from your teachings that I derived the warrant to
+follow the dictates of my conscience and my reason. If they have led me
+into error, you must charge it upon these monitors which God has given
+me. You cannot censure me.”</p>
+
+<p>“I confess I am to blame,” said the good old man, with a sigh. “But who
+could have thought, that when, with my hard earnings, I had saved enough
+to send you to France, in order to give you a more extensive
+acquaintance with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> world you were about to enter—who would have
+thought that it would result in your imbibing such errors as these! Oh,
+my son, what freedom of conscience is there in a faith like papacy,
+which binds your reason to the will of another? And what purity can
+there be in a religion which you dare not avow?”</p>
+
+<p>“Naaman bowed in the house of Rimmon,” returned Bernard, carelessly,
+“and if the prophet forgave him for thus following the customs of his
+nation, that he might retain a profitable and dignified position, I
+surely may be forgiven, under a milder dispensation, for suppressing my
+real sentiments in order to secure office and preferment.”</p>
+
+<p>“Alas!” murmured Hutchinson, bitterly. “Well, it is a sentiment worthy
+of Edward's son. But go, my poor boy, proud in your reason, which but
+leads you astray—wresting scripture in order to justify hypocrisy, and
+profaning religion with vice. You shall not yet want my prayers that you
+may be redeemed from error.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, good night,” said Bernard, as he opened the door. “But do me the
+justice to say, that though I may be deceitful, I can never be
+ungrateful, nor can I forget your kindness to a desolate orphan.” And so
+saying, he closed the door, and left the old chaplain to the solitude of
+his own stricken heart.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Oh, tiger's heart, wrapt in a woman's hide.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Henry VI.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>Brightly shone the sun through the window of the Garter Inn, at which
+Virginia Temple sat on the morning after the ball at Sir William
+Berkeley's palace. Freed from the restraints of society, she gave her
+caged thoughts their freedom, and they flew with delight to Hansford.
+She reproved herself for the appearance of gaiety which she had assumed,
+while he was in so much danger; and she inwardly resolved that, not even
+to please her mother, would she be guilty again of such hypocrisy. She
+felt that she owed it to Hansford, to herself, and to others, to act
+thus. To Hansford, because his long and passionate love, and his
+unstained name, deserved a sacrifice of the world and its joys to him.
+To herself, because sad as were her reflections on the past, and fearful
+as were her apprehensions for the future, there was still a melancholy
+pleasure in dwelling on the memory of her love—far sweeter to her
+wounded heart than all the giddy gaiety of the world around her. And to
+others, because, but for her assumed cheerfulness, the feelings of
+Alfred Bernard, her generous and gifted friend, would have been spared
+the sore trial to which they had been subjected the night before. She
+was determined that another noble soul should not make shipwreck of its
+happiness, by anchoring its hopes on her own broken heart.</p>
+
+<p>Such were her thoughts, as she leaned her head upon her hand and gazed
+out of the window at the throng of people who were hurrying toward the
+state-house. For this was to be a great day in legislation. The Indian
+Bill was to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> be up in committee, and the discussion would be an able
+one, in which the most prominent members of the Assembly were to take
+part. She had seen the Governor's carriage, with its gold and trappings,
+the Berkeley coat-of-arms, and its six richly caparisoned white horses,
+roll splendidly by, with an escort of guards, by which Sir William was
+on public occasions always attended. She had seen the Burgesses, with
+their reports, their petitions and their bills, some conversing
+carelessly and merrily as they passed, and others with thoughtful
+countenance bent upon the ground, cogitating on some favourite scheme
+for extricating the colony from its dangers. She had seen Alfred Bernard
+pass on his favourite horse, and he had turned his eyes to the window
+and gracefully saluted her; but in that brief moment she saw that the
+scenes through which he had passed the night before were still in his
+memory, and had made a deep impression on his heart. On the plea of a
+sick head-ache, she had declined to go with her mother to the “House,”
+and the good old lady had gone alone with her husband, deploring, as she
+went, the little interest which the young people of the present day took
+in the politics and prosperity of their country.</p>
+
+<p>While thus silently absorbed in her own thoughts, the attention of
+Virginia Temple was arrested by the door of her room being opened, and
+on looking up, she saw before her the tall figure of a strange, wild
+looking woman, whom she had never seen before. This woman, despite the
+warmth of the weather, was wrapped in a coarse red shawl, which gave a
+striking and picturesque effect to her singular appearance. Her features
+were prominent and regular, and the face might have been considered
+handsome if it were not for the exceeding coarseness of her swarthy
+skin. Her jet-black hair, not even confined by a comb, was secured by a
+black riband behind, and passing over the right shoulder, fell in a
+heavy mass over her bosom.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> Her figure was tall and straight as an
+Indian's, and her bare brawny arms, which escaped from under her shawl,
+gave indications of great physical strength; while there was that in the
+expression of her fierce black eye, and her finely formed mouth, which
+showed that there was no mere woman's heart in that masculine form.</p>
+
+<p>The wild appearance and attire of the woman inspired Virginia with
+terror at first, but she suppressed the scream which rose to her lips,
+and in an agitated voice, she asked,</p>
+
+<p>“What would you have with me, madam?”</p>
+
+<p>“What are you frightened at, girl,” said the woman in a shrill, coarse
+voice, “don't you see that I am a woman?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, ma'am,” said Virginia, trembling, “I am not frightened, ma'am.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are frightened—I see you are,” returned her strange guest.—“But
+if you fear, you are not worthy to be the wife of a brave man—come,
+deny nothing—I can read you like a book—and easier, for it is but
+little that I know from books, except my Bible.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are you a gipsey, ma'am?” said Virginia, softly, for she had heard her
+father speak of that singular race of vagrants, and the person and
+language of the stranger corresponded with the idea which she had formed
+of them.</p>
+
+<p>“A gipsey! no, I am a Virginian—and a brave man's wife, as you would
+be—but that prejudice and fear keep you still in Egyptian bondage. The
+time has come for woman to act her part in the world—and for you,
+Virginia Temple, to act yours.”</p>
+
+<p>“But what would you have me to do?” asked Virginia, surprised at the
+knowledge which the stranger seemed to possess of her history.</p>
+
+<p>“Do!” shrieked the woman, “your duty—that which every human creature,
+man or woman, is bound before high heaven to do. Aid in the great work
+which God this day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> calls upon his Israel to do—to redeem his people
+from captivity and from the hand of those who smite us.”</p>
+
+<p>“My good woman,” said Virginia, who now began to understand the
+character of the strange intruder, “it is not for me, may I add, it is
+not for our sex to mingle in contests like the present. We can but
+humbly pray that He who controls the affairs of this world, may direct
+in virtue and in wisdom, the hearts of both rulers and people.”</p>
+
+<p>“And why should we only pray,” said the woman sternly, “when did Heaven
+ever answer prayer, except when our own actions carried the prayer into
+effect. Have you not learned, have you not known, hath it not been told
+you from the foundation of the world, that faith without works was
+dead.”</p>
+
+<p>“But there is no part which a woman can consistently take in such a
+contest as the present, even should she so far forget her true duties as
+to wish to engage in it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Girl, have you read your bible, or are you one of those children of the
+scarlet woman of Babylon, to whom the word of God is a closed book—to
+whom the waters from the fountain of truth can only come through the
+polluted lips of priests—as unclean birds feed their offspring. Do you
+not know that it was a woman, even Rahab, who saved the spies sent out
+from Shittem to view the land of promise? Do you not know that Miriam
+joined with the hosts of Israel in the triumph of their deliverance from
+the hand of Pharaoh? Do you not know that Deborah, the wife of Lapidoth,
+judged Israel, and delivered Jacob from the hands of Jabin, king of
+Canaan, and Sisera the captain of his host—and did not Jael, the wife
+of Heber the Kenite, rescue Israel from the hands of Sisera? Surely she
+fastened the nail in a sure place, and the wife of Sisera, tarried long
+ere his chariot should come—and shall we in these latter days of Israel
+be less bold than they? Tell me not of prayers, Virginia Temple, cowards
+alone pray blindly for assist<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>ance. It is the will of God that the brave
+should be often under Heaven, the answerers of their own prayers.”</p>
+
+<p>“And pray tell me,” said Virginia, struck with the wild, biblical
+eloquence of the Puritan woman, “why you have thus come to me among so
+many of the damsels of Virginia, to urge me to engage in this
+enterprise.”</p>
+
+<p>“Because I was sent. Because one of the captains of our host has sought
+the hand of Virginia Temple. Ah, blush, maiden, for the blush of shame
+well becomes one who has deserted her lover, because he has laid aside
+every weight, and pressed forward to the prize of his high calling. Yet
+a little while, and the brave men of Virginia will be here to show the
+malignant Berkeley, that the servant is not greater than his lord—that
+they who reared up this temple of his authority, can rase it to the
+ground and bury him in its ruins. I come from Thomas Hansford, to ask
+that you will under my guidance meet him where I shall appoint
+to-night.”</p>
+
+<p>“This is most strange conduct on his part,” said Virginia, flushing with
+indignation, “nor will I believe him guilty of it. Why did he entrust a
+message like this to you instead of writing?”</p>
+
+<p>“A warrior writes with his sword and in blood,” replied the woman.
+“Think you that they who wander in the wilderness, are provided with pen
+or ink to write soft words of love to silly maidens? But he foresaw that
+you would refuse, and he gave me a token—I fear a couplet from a carnal
+song.”</p>
+
+<p>“What is it?” cried Virginia, anxiously.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“'I had not loved thee, dear, so much,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loved I not honour more,'”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>said the woman, in a low voice. “Thus the words run in my memory.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>“And it is indeed a true token,” said Virginia, “but once for all, I
+cannot consent to this singular request.”</p>
+
+<p>“Decide not in haste, lest you repent at leisure,” returned the woman,
+“I will come to-night at ten o'clock to receive your final answer. And
+regret not, Virginia Temple, that your fate is thus linked with a brave
+man. The babe unborn will yet bless the rising in this country—and
+children shall rise up and call us blest.<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> And, oh! as you would
+prove worthy of him who loves you, abide not thou like Reuben among the
+sheep-folds to hear the bleating of the flocks, and you will yet live to
+rejoice that you have turned a willing ear to the words and the counsel
+of Sarah Drummond.”</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause of some moments, during which Virginia was wrapt in
+her own reflections concerning the singular message of Hansford,
+rendered even more singular by the character and appearance of the
+messenger. Suddenly she was startled from her reverie by the blast of a
+trumpet, and the distant trampling of horses' hoofs. Sarah Drummond also
+started at the sound, but not from the same cause, for she heard in that
+sound the blast of defiance—the trumpet of freedom, as its champions
+advanced to the charge.</p>
+
+<p>“They come, they come,” she said, in her wild, shrill voice; “my Lord,
+my Lord, the chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof—I go, like
+Miriam of old, to prophecy in their cause, and to swell their triumph.
+Farewell. Remember, at ten o'clock to-night I return for your final
+answer.”</p>
+
+<p>With these words she burst from the room, and Virginia soon seen her
+tall form, with hasty strides, moving toward the place from which the
+sound proceeded.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> This was her very language during the rebellion.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i6">“Men, high minded men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With powers as far above dull brutes endued,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In forest, brake or den,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Men, who their duties know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But know their rights, and knowing dare maintain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">These constitute a state.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i20"><i>Sir William Jones.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>And nearer, and nearer, came the sound, and the cloud of dust which
+already rose in the street, announced their near approach. And then,
+Virginia saw emerging from that cloud a proud figure, mounted on a
+splendid grey charger, which pranced and champed his bit, as though
+proud of the noble burden which he bore. And well he might be proud, for
+that young gallant rider was Nathaniel Bacon, a man who has left his
+name upon his country's history, despite the efforts to defame him, as
+the very embodiment of the spirit of freedom. And he looked every inch a
+hero, as with kingly mien and gallant bearing he rode through that
+crowded street, the great centre of attraction to all.</p>
+
+<p>Beside him and around him were those, his friends and his companions,
+who had sworn to share his success, or to perish in the attempt.</p>
+
+<p>There was the burley Richard Lawrence, not yet bent under the weight of
+his growing years. There was Carver, the bold, intrepid and faithful
+Carver, whose fidelity yet lives historically in his rough, home-brewed
+answer to the Governor, that “if he served the devil he would be true to
+his trust.” There too was the young and graceful form of one whose name
+has been honoured by history, and cherished by his descendants—whose
+rising glory has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> indeed been eclipsed by others of his name more
+successful, but not more worthy of success—nor can that long, pure
+cavalier lineage boast a nobler ancestor than the high-souled,
+chivalrous, and devoted Giles Bland. There too were Ingram, and
+Walklate, and Wilford, and Farloe, and Cheesman, and a host of others,
+whom time would fail us to mention, and yet, each one of whom, a pioneer
+in freedom's cause, deserves to be freshly remembered. And there too,
+and the heart of Virginia Temple beat loud and quick as she beheld him,
+was the gallant Hansford, whom she loved so well; and as she gazed upon
+his noble figure, now foremost in rebellion, the old love came back
+gushing into her heart, and she half forgave his grievous sin, and loved
+him as before.</p>
+
+<p>These all passed on, and the well-regulated band of four hundred
+foot-soldiers, all armed and disciplined for action, followed on, ready
+and anxious to obey their noble leader, even unto death. Among these
+were many, who, through their lives had been known as loyalists, who
+upheld the councils of the colony in their long resistance to the
+usurpation of the Protector, and who hailed the restoration of their
+king as a personal triumph to each and all. There too were those who had
+admired Cromwell, and sustained his government, and some few grey-headed
+veterans who even remembered to have fought under the banner of John
+Hampden—Cavaliers and Roundheads, Episcopalians and Dissenters; old
+men, who had heretofore passed through life regardless of the forms of
+government under which they lived; and young men, whose ardent hearts
+burned high with the spirit of liberty—all these discordant elements
+had been united in the alembic of freedom, and hand-in-hand, and
+heart-in-heart, were preparing for the struggle. And Virginia Temple
+thought, as she gazed from the window upon their manly forms, that after
+all, rebellion was not confined to the ignoble and the base.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>On, on, still on, and now they have reached the gate which is the grand
+entrance to the state-house square. The crowd of eager citizens throng
+after them, and with the fickle sympathy of the mob unite in loud shouts
+of “Long live Bacon, the Champion of Freedom.” And now they are drawn up
+in bristling column before the hall of the assembly, while the windows
+are crowded thick with the pale, anxious faces of the astounded
+burgesses. But see! the leaders dismount, and their horses are given in
+charge to certain of the soldiers. Conspicuous among them all is
+Nathaniel Bacon, from his proud and imperial bearing as he walks with
+impatient steps up and down the line, and reads their resolution in the
+faces of the men.</p>
+
+<p>“What will he do!” is whispered from the white and agitated lips of the
+trembling burgesses.</p>
+
+<p>“This comes of the faithless conduct of Berkeley,” says one.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; I always said that Bacon should have his commission,” says
+another.</p>
+
+<p>“It is downright murder to deny him the right to save the colony from
+the savages,” says a third.</p>
+
+<p>“And we must suffer for the offences of a despotic old dotard,” said the
+first speaker.</p>
+
+<p>“Say you so, masters,” cried out old Presley, wedging his huge form
+between two of his brethren at the window—and all his loyalty of the
+preceding night having oozed out at his fingers' ends, like Bob Acres'
+courage, at the first approach of danger—“say you so; then, by God, it
+is my advice to let him put out the fire of his own raising.”</p>
+
+<p>But see there! Bacon and his staff are conferring together. It will soon
+be known what is his determination. It is already read in his fierce and
+angry countenance as he draws his sword half way from its scabbard, and
+frowns upon the milder councils of Hansford and Bland. Pre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>sently a
+servant of one of the members comes in with pale, affrighted looks, and
+whispers to his master. He has overheard the words of Bacon, which
+attended that ominous gesture.</p>
+
+<p>“I will bear a little while. But when you see my sword drawn from my
+scabbard, thus, let that be the signal for attack. Then strike for
+freedom, for truth, and for justice.”</p>
+
+<p>The burgesses look in wild alarm at each other. What is to be done? It
+were vain to resist. They are unarmed. The rebels more than quadruple
+Governor, Council, and Assembly. Let those suffer who have incurred the
+wrath of freemen. Let the lightning fall upon him who has called it
+down. For ourselves, let us make peace.</p>
+
+<p>In a moment a white handkerchief suspended on the usher's rod streams
+from the window, an emblem of peace, an advocate for mercy, and with one
+accordant shout, which rings through the halls of the state-house, the
+burgesses declare that he shall have his commission.</p>
+
+<p>Bacon sees the emblem. He hears the shout. His dark eye flashes with
+delight as he hails this bloodless victory over the most formidable
+department of the government. The executive dare not hold out against
+the will of the Assembly. But the victory is not yet consummated.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly from the lips of the excited soldiery comes a wild cry, and
+following the direction of their eyes, he sees Sir William Berkeley
+standing at the open window of the Council Chamber. Yes, there stands
+the proud old man, with form erect and noble—his face somewhat paler,
+and his eagle eye somewhat brighter than usual. But these are the only
+signs he gives of emotion, as he looks down upon that hostile crowd,
+with a smile of bitter scorn encircling his lip. He quails not, he
+blenches not, before that angry foe. His pulse beats calmly and
+regularly, for it is under the control of the brave great heart, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>
+knows no fear. And there he stands, all calm and silent, like a firm-set
+rock that defies in its iron strength the fury of the storm that beats
+against it.</p>
+
+<p>Yet Berkeley is in danger. He is the object, the sole object, of the
+bitter hate of that incensed and indignant soldiery. He has pledged and
+he has broken his word to them, and when did broken faith ever fail to
+arouse the indignation of Virginians? He has denied them the right to
+protect, by organized force, their homes and their firesides from the
+midnight attacks of ruthless savages. He has advised the passage of laws
+restricting their commerce, and reducing the value of their staples. He
+has urged the erection of forts throughout the colony, armed with a
+regular soldiery, supported in their idleness by the industry of
+Virginians, and whose sole object is to check the kindling flame of
+liberty among the people. He has sanctioned and encouraged the exercise
+of power by Parliament to tax an unrepresented colony. He has advised
+and upheld His Majesty in depriving the original patentees of immense
+tracts of land, and lavishing them as princely donations upon fawning
+favourites. He has refused to represent to the king the many grievances
+of the colony, and to urge their redress, and, although thus showing
+himself to be a tyrant over a free people, he has dared to urge, through
+his servile commissioners, his appointment as Governor for life.</p>
+
+<p>Such were some of the many causes of discontent among the colonists
+which had so inflamed them against Sir William Berkeley. And now, there
+he stood before them, calm in spite of their menaces, unrelenting in
+spite of their remonstrances. Without a word of command, and with one
+accord a hundred fusils were pointed at the breast of the brave old
+Governor. It was a moment of intense excitement—of terrible suspense.
+But even then his courage and his self-reliance forsook him not. Tearing
+open<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> his vest, and presenting himself at the window more fully to their
+attack, he cried out in a firm voice:</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, shoot! 'Fore God, a fair mark. Infatuated men, bury your wrongs
+here in my heart. I dare you to do your worst!”</p>
+
+<p>“Down with your guns!” shouted Bacon, angrily. But it needed not the
+order of their leader to cause them to drop their weapons in an instant.
+The calm smile which still played around the countenance of the old
+Governor, the unblenching glance of that eagle eye, and the unawed
+manner in which he dared them to revenge, all had their effect in
+allaying the resentment of the soldiers. And with this came the memory
+of the olden time, when he was so beloved by his people, because so just
+and gentle. Something of this old feeling now returned, and as they
+lowered their weapons a tear glistened in many a hardy soldier's eye.</p>
+
+<p>With the quick perception of true genius, Nathaniel Bacon saw the effect
+produced. Well aware of the volatile materials with which he had to
+work, he dreaded a revolution in the feelings of the men. Anxious to
+smother the smouldering ashes of loyalty before they were fanned into a
+flame, he cried with a loud voice,</p>
+
+<p>“Not a hair of your head shall be touched. No, nor of any man's. I come
+for justice, not for vengeance. I come to plead for the mercy which
+ill-judged and cruel delay has long denied this people. I come to plead
+for the living—my argument may be heard from the dead. The voices of
+murdered Englishmen call to you from the ground. We demand a right,
+guarantied by the sacred and inviolable law of self-preservation! A
+right! guarantied by the plighted but violated word of an English knight
+and a Virginia Governor. A right! which I now hold by the powerful,
+albeit unwritten, sanction of these, the sovereigns of Virginia.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>The last artful allusion of Bacon entirely restored the confidence of
+his soldiers, and with loud cries they shouted in chorus, “And we will
+have it!—we will have it!”</p>
+
+<p>Berkeley listened patiently to this brief address, and then turned from
+the window where he was standing, and took his seat at the
+council-table. Here, too, he was surrounded by many who, either alarmed
+at the menaces of the rebels, and convinced of the futility of resisting
+their demands, or, what is more probable, who had a secret sympathy in
+the causes of the rebellion, exerted all their influence in mollifying
+the wrath and obstinacy of the old Governor. But it was all in vain. To
+every argument or persuasion which was urged, his only reply was,</p>
+
+<p>“To have forced from me by rebels the trust confided in me by my king!
+To yield to force what I denied to petition! No, Gentlemen; 'fore God,
+if the authority of my master's government must be overcome in Virginia,
+let me perish with it. I wish no higher destiny than to be a martyr,
+like my royal master, Charles the First, to the cause of truth and
+justice. Let them rob me of my life when they rob me of my trust.”</p>
+
+<p>While thus the councillors were vainly endeavoring to persuade the old
+man to yield to the current which had so set against him, he was
+surprised by a slight touch on his shoulder, and on looking up he saw
+Alfred Bernard standing before him. The young man bent over, and in a
+low whisper uttered these significant words:</p>
+
+<p>“The commission, extorted by force, is null and void when the duress is
+removed.”</p>
+
+<p>Struck by a view so apposite to his condition, and so entirely tallying
+with his own wishes, the impetuous old Governor fairly leaped from his
+chair and grasped the hand of his young adviser.</p>
+
+<p>“Right, by God!” he said; “right, my son. Gentlemen, this young man's
+counsel is worth all of your's. Out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> of the mouth of babes and
+sucklings—however, Alfred, you would not relish a compliment paid at
+the expense of your manhood.”</p>
+
+<p>“What does the young man propose?” drawled the phlegmatic old Cole, who
+was one of the council board.</p>
+
+<p>“That I should yield to the current when I must, and resist it when I
+can,” cried Berkeley, exultingly. “Loyalty must only bow to the storm,
+as the tree bows before the tempest. The most efficient resistance is
+apparent concession.”</p>
+
+<p>The councillors were astounded. Sprung from that chivalric Anglo-Saxon
+race, who respected honour more than life, and felt a stain like a
+wound, they could scarcely believe their senses when they thus heard the
+Governor of Virginia recommending deceit and simulation to secure his
+safety. To them, rebellion was chiefly detestable because it was an
+infraction of the oath of loyalty. It could scarcely be more base than
+the premeditated perjury which Sir William contemplated. Many an angry
+eye and dark scowl was bent on Alfred Bernard, who met them with an easy
+and defiant air. The silence that ensued expressed more clearly than
+words the disapprobation of the council. At length old Ballard, one of
+the most loyal and esteemed members of the council, hazarded an
+expression of his views.</p>
+
+<p>“Sir William Berkeley, let me advise you as your counsellor, and warn
+you as your friend, to avoid the course prescribed by that young man.
+What effect can your bad faith with these misguided persons have, but to
+exasperate them?—and when once aroused, and once deceived, be assured
+that all attempts at reconciliation will be vain. I speak plainly, but I
+do so because not only your own safety, but the peace and prosperity of
+the colony are involved in your decision. Were not the broken pledges of
+that unhappy Stuart, to whom you have referred, the causes of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> that
+fearful revolution which alienated the affections of his subjects and at
+length cost him his life? Charles Stuart has not died in vain, if, by
+his death and his sufferings, he has taught his successors in power that
+candour, moderation and truth are due from a prince to his people. But,
+alas! what oceans of blood must be shed ere man will learn those useful
+lessons, which alone can ensure his happiness and secure his authority.”</p>
+
+<p>“Zounds, Ballard,” said the incensed old ruler, “you have mistaken your
+calling. I have not heard so fine a sermon this many a day, and, 'fore
+God, if you will only renounce politics, and don gown and cassock, I
+will have you installed forthwith in my dismal Hutchinson's living.
+But,” he added, more seriously, as the smile of bitter derision faded
+from his lips, “I well e'en tell you that you have expressed yourself a
+matter too freely, and have forgotten what you owe to position and
+authority.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have forgotten neither, sir,” said Ballard, firmly but calmly. “I owe
+respect to position, even though I may not have it for the man who holds
+that position; and when authority is abused, I owe it alike to myself
+and to the people to check it so far as I may.”</p>
+
+<p>The flush of passion mounted to the brow of Berkeley, as he listened to
+these words; but with a violent effort he checked the angry retort which
+rose to his lips, and turning to the rest of the council, he said:</p>
+
+<p>“Well, gentlemen, I will submit the proposition to you. Shall the
+commission of General of the forces of Virginia be granted to Nathaniel
+Bacon?”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, Governor,” interposed another of the council, “we would know
+whether you intend—”</p>
+
+<p>“It is of my actions that you must advise. Leave my motives to me. What
+do you advise? Shall the commission be granted?”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye,” was responded in turn by each of the council<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>lors at the board,
+and at the same moment the heavy tramp of approaching footsteps was
+heard, and Bacon, attended by Lawrence, Bland and Hansford, entered the
+chamber.</p>
+
+<p>The council remained seated and covered, and preserved the most
+imperturbable silence. It was a scene not unlike that of that ancient
+senate, who, unable to resist the attack of barbarians, evinced their
+pride and bravery by their contemptuous silence. The sun was shining
+brightly through the western windows of the chamber, and his glaring
+rays, softened and coloured by the rich red curtains of damask, threw a
+deeper flush upon the cheeks of the haughty old councillors. With their
+eyes fixed upon the intruders, they patiently awaited the result of the
+interview. On the other hand, the attitude and behaviour of the rebels
+was not less calm and dignified. They had evidently counselled well
+before they had determined to intrude thus upon the deliberations of the
+council. It was with no angry or impatient outburst of passion, with no
+air of triumph, that they came. They knew their rights, and had come to
+claim and maintain them.</p>
+
+<p>There were two men there, and they the youngest of that mixed assembly,
+who viewed each other with looks of darker hatred than the rest. The
+wound inflicted in Hansford's heart at Windsor Hall had not yet been
+healed—and with that tendency to injustice so habitual to lovers, with
+the proclivity of all men to seek out some one whom they may charge as
+the author of their own misfortune, he viewed Bernard with feelings of
+distrust and enmity. He felt, too, or rather he feared, that the heart
+left vacant by his own exclusion from it, might be filled with this
+young rival. Bernard, on the other hand, had even stronger reason of
+dislike, and if such motives could operate even upon the noble mind of
+Hansford, with how much greater force would they impress the selfish
+character of the young jesuit. The recollection of that last scene with
+Virginia<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> in the park, of her unwavering devotion to her rebel lover,
+and her disregard of his own feelings came upon him now with renewed
+force, as he saw that rebel rival stand before him. Even if filial
+regard for her father's wishes and a sense of duty to herself would
+forever prevent her alliance with Hansford, Alfred Bernard felt that so
+long as his rival lived there was an insuperable obstacle to his
+acquisition of her estate, an object which he prized even more than her
+love. Thus these two young men darted angry glances at each other, and
+forgot in their own personal aggrievements, the higher principles for
+which they were engaged of loyalty on the one hand, and liberty on the
+other.</p>
+
+<p>Bacon was the first to break silence.</p>
+
+<p>“Methinks,” he said, “that your honours are not inclined to fall into
+the error of deciding in haste and repenting at leisure.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Bacon,” said Berkeley, “you must be aware that the appearance of
+this armed force tends to prejudice your claims. It would be indecorous
+in me to be over-awed by menaces, or to yield to compulsion. But the
+necessities of the time demand that there should be an organized force,
+to resist the encroachments of the Indians. It is, therefore, not from
+fear of your threats, but from conviction of this necessity that I have
+determined to grant you the commission which you ask, with full power to
+raise, equip, and provision an army, and with instructions, that you
+forthwith proceed to march against the savages.”</p>
+
+<p>Bacon could scarcely suppress a smile at this boastful appearance of
+authority and disavowal of compulsion, on the part of the proud old
+Governor. It was with a thrill of rapture that he thus at last possessed
+the great object of his wishes. Already idolized by the people, he only
+needed a legal recognition of his authority to accomplish the great ends
+that he had in view. As the commission was made out in due form,
+engrossed and sealed, and handed to him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> he clutched it eagerly, as
+though it were a sceptre of royal power. Little suspecting the design of
+the wily Governor, he felt all his confidence in him restored at once,
+and from his generous heart he forgave him all the past.</p>
+
+<p>“This commission, though military,” he said, proudly, “is the seal of
+restored tranquillity to the colony. Think not it will be perverted to
+improper uses. Royalty is to Virginians what the sun is to the pious
+Persian. Virginia was the last to desert the setting sun of royalty, and
+still lingered piously and tearfully to look upon its declining rays.
+She was the first to hail the glorious restoration of its light, and as
+she worshipped its rising beams, she will never seek to quench or
+overcloud its meridian lustre. I go, gentlemen, to restore peace to the
+fireside and confidence to the hearts of this people. The sword of my
+country shall never be turned against herself.”</p>
+
+<p>The heightened colour of his cheek, and the bright flashing of his eye,
+bespoke the pride and delight of his heart. With a profound bow he
+turned from the room, and with his aids, he descended to rejoin his
+anxious and expectant followers. In a few moments the loud shout of the
+soldiery was heard testifying their satisfaction at the result. The
+names of Berkeley and of Bacon were upon their lips—and as the proud
+old Governor gazed from the window at that happy crowd, and saw with the
+admiring eye of a brave man, the tall and martial form of Nathaniel
+Bacon at their head, he scarcely regretted in that moment that his loyal
+name had been linked with the name of a traitor.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Me glory summons to the martial scene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The field of combat is the sphere of men;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where heroes war the foremost place I claim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first in danger, as the first in fame.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Pope's Iliad.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>We return to Virginia Temple, who, although not an eye-witness of the
+scene which we have just described, was far from being disinterested in
+its result. The words of the singular woman, with whom she had
+conversed, had made some impression upon her mind. Although disgusted
+with the facility with which Dame Drummond had distorted and perverted
+Scripture to justify her own wild absurdities, Virginia still felt that
+there was much cause for self-reproach in her conduct to her lover. She
+felt every assurance that though he might err, he would err from
+judgment alone; and how little did she know of the questions at issue
+between the aroused people and the government. Indeed, when she saw the
+character of those with whom Hansford was associated—men not impelled
+by the blind excitement of a mob, but evidently actuated by higher
+principles of right and justice, her heart misgave her that, perhaps,
+she had permitted prejudice to carry her too far in her opposition to
+their cause. The struggle in her mind was indeed an unequal one. It was
+love pleading against ignorant prejudice, and that at the forum of a
+woman's heart. Can it be wondered at that Virginia Temple, left to
+herself, without an adviser, yielded to the powerful plea, and freely
+and fully forgave her rebel lover?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> And when she thought, too, that,
+however guilty to his country, he had, at least, been ever faithful to
+her, she added to her forgiveness of him the bitterest self-reproach. On
+one thing she was resolved, that notwithstanding the apparent indelicacy
+of such a course, she would grant him the interview which he requested,
+and if she could not win him from his error, at least part from him,
+though forever, as a friend. She felt that it was due to her former
+love, and to his unwavering devotion, to grant this last request.</p>
+
+<p>Once determined on her course, the hours rolled heavily away until the
+time fixed for her appointment with Hansford. Despite her attempt to
+prove cheerful and unconcerned, her lynx-eyed mother detected her
+sadness, but was easily persuaded that it was due to a slight head-ache,
+with which she was really suffering, and which she pleaded as an excuse.
+The old lady was more easily deceived, because it tallied with her own
+idea, that Jamestown was very unhealthy, and that she, herself, could
+never breathe its unwholesome air without the most disastrous
+consequences to her health.</p>
+
+<p>At length, Colonel Temple, having left the crowd of busy politicians,
+who were discussing the events of the day in the hall, returned with his
+good wife to their own room. Virginia, with a beating heart, resumed her
+watch at the window, where she was to await the coming of Sarah
+Drummond. It was a warm, still night. Scarcely a breath of air was
+stirring the leaves of the long line of elms that adorned the street.
+She sat watching the silent stars, and wondering if those bright worlds
+contained scenes of sorrow and despair like this; or were they but the
+pure mansions which the Comforter was preparing in his heavenly kingdom
+for those disconsolate children of earth who longed for that peace which
+he had promised when he told his trusting disciples “Let not your heart
+be troubled,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> neither let it be afraid.” How apt are the sorrowing souls
+of earth to look thus into the blue depths of heaven, and in their
+selfishness to think that Nature, with her host of created beings, was
+made for them. She chose from among those shining worlds, one bright and
+trembling star, which stood apart, and there transported on the wings of
+Fancy or Faith, she lived in love and peace with Hansford. Sweet was
+that star-home to the trusting girl, as she watched it in its slow and
+silent course through heaven. Free from the cares which vex the spirit
+in this dark sin-world, that happy star was filled with love, and the
+blissful pair who knew it as their home, felt no change, save in the
+“grateful vicissitude of pleasure and repose.” Such was the picture
+which the young girl, with the pencil of hope, and the colours of fancy
+painted for her soul's eye. But as she gazed, the star faded from her
+sight, and a dark and heavy cloud lowered from the place where it had
+stood.</p>
+
+<p>At the same moment, as if the vision in which she had been rapt was
+something more than a dream, the door of her chamber opened, and Sarah
+Drummond entered. The heart of Virginia Temple nearly failed her, as she
+thought of the coincidence in time of the disappearance of the star and
+the summons to her interview with Hansford. Her companion marked her
+manner, and in a more gentle voice than she had yet assumed, she said,</p>
+
+<p>“Why art thou cast down, maiden? Let not your heart sink in the
+performance of a duty. Have you decided?”</p>
+
+<p>“Must I meet him alone?” asked Virginia. “Oh, how could he make a
+request so hard to be complied with!”</p>
+
+<p>“Alone!” said Sarah, with a sneer. “Yes, silly girl, reared in the
+school that would teach that woman's virtue is too frail even to be
+tempted. Yes, alone! She who cannot trust her honour to a lover, knows
+but little of the true power of love.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>“I will follow you,” replied Virginia, firmly, and throwing a shawl
+loosely around her, she rose from her seat and prepared to go.</p>
+
+<p>“Come on, then,” said Sarah, quickly, “there is no time to be lost. In
+an hour, at most, the triumphant defenders of right will be upon their
+march.”</p>
+
+<p>The insurgents, wearied with their long march the night and day before,
+and finding no accommodation for their numbers in the inn, or elsewhere,
+had determined to seek a few hours repose in the green lawn surrounding
+the state-house, previous to their night march upon the Indians. It was
+here that Hansford had appointed to meet and bid farewell to his
+betrothed Virginia. Half leading, half dragging the trembling girl, who
+had already well nigh repented her resolution, Sarah Drummond walked
+rapidly down the street, in the direction of the state-house. Arrived at
+the gate, their further progress was arrested by a rough, uncouth
+sentinel, who in a coarse voice demanded who they were.</p>
+
+<p>“I am Sarah Drummond,” said the woman, promptly, “and this young maiden
+would speak with Major Hansford.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, 'stains, dame, what has become of all your religion, that you
+should turn ribibe on our hands, and be bringing young hoydens this time
+o' night to the officers. For shame, Dame Drummond.”</p>
+
+<p>“Berkenhead,” cried the woman, fiercely, “we all know you for a traitor
+and a blasphemer, who serve but for the loaves and fishes, and not for
+the pure word. You gained your liberty, you know, by betraying your
+fellows in the insurrection of '62, and are a base pensioner upon the
+bounty of the Assembly for your cowardice and treason. But God often
+maketh the carnal-minded of this world to fulfil his will, and so we
+must e'en bear with you yet a little while. Come, let us pass.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>“Nay, dame,” said the old soldier, “I care but little for your abuse;
+but duty is duty, and so an' ye give me not the shibboleth, as old
+Noll's canters would say, you may e'en tramp back. You see, I've got
+some of your slang, and will fight the devil with his own fire: 'And
+there fell of the children of Ephraim, at the passage of the Jordan—'”</p>
+
+<p>“Hush, blasphemer!” said Sarah, impatiently. “But if you must have the
+pass before you can admit us, take it.” And she leaned forward and
+whispered in his ear the words, “Be faithful to the cause.”</p>
+
+<p>“Right as a trivet,” said Berkenhead, “and so pass on. A fig for the
+consequences, so that my skirts are clear.”</p>
+
+<p>Relieved from this embarrassment, Sarah Drummond and her trembling
+companion passed through the gate, and proceeded up the long gravelled
+walk which led to the state-house. They had not gone far before Virginia
+Temple descried a dark form approaching them, and even before she could
+recognize the features, her heart told her it was Hansford. In another
+moment she was in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>“My own Virginia, my loved one,” he cried, regardless of the presence of
+Mrs. Drummond, “I scarcely dared hope that you would have kept your
+promise to say farewell. Come, dearest, lean on my arm, I have much to
+tell you. You, my kind dame, remain here for a few moments—we will not
+detain you long.”</p>
+
+<p>Quietly yielding to his request, Virginia took her lover's arm, and they
+walked silently along the path, leaving the good dame Drummond to digest
+alone her crude notions about the prospects of Israel.</p>
+
+<p>“Is it not singular,” said Hansford at length, “that before you came, I
+thought the brief hour we must spend together was far too short to say
+half that I wish, and now I can say nothing. The quiet feeling of love,
+of pure and tranquil love, banishes every other thought from my heart.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>“I fear—I fear,” murmured Virginia, “that I have done very wrong in
+consenting to this interview.”</p>
+
+<p>“And why, Virginia,” said her lover, “even the malefactor is permitted
+the poor privilege of bidding farewell forever to those around him—and
+am I worse than he?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, Hansford, no,” replied Virginia, “but to come thus with a perfect
+stranger, at night, and without my father's permission, to an interview
+with one who has met with his disapprobation—”</p>
+
+<p>“True love,” replied Hansford, sadly, “overleaps all such feeble
+barriers as these—where the happiness of the loved one is concerned.”</p>
+
+<p>“And, therefore, I came,” returned the young girl, “but you forget,
+Hansford, that the relation which once existed between us has, by our
+mutual consent, been dissolved—what then was proper cannot now be
+permitted.”</p>
+
+<p>“If such be the case,” replied Hansford, in an offended tone, “Miss
+Temple must be aware that I am the last person to urge her to continue
+in a course which her judgment disapproves. May I conduct you to your
+companion?”</p>
+
+<p>Virginia did not at first reply. The coldness of manner which she had
+assumed was far from being consonant with her real feelings, and the
+ingenuous girl could no longer continue the part which she attempted to
+represent. After a brief pause, the natural affection of her nature
+triumphed, and with the most artless frankness she said,</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no, Hansford, my tongue can no longer speak other language than
+that which my heart dictates. Forgive me for what I have said. We cannot
+part thus.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thanks, my dearest girl,” he cried, “for this assurance. The future is
+already too dark, for the light of hope to be entirely withdrawn. These
+troublous times will soon be over, and then—”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>“Nay, Hansford,” said Virginia, interrupting him, “I fear you cannot
+even then hope for that happiness which you profess to anticipate in our
+union. These things I have thought of deeply and sorrowfully. Whatever
+may be the issue of this unnatural contest, to us the result must be the
+same. My father's prejudices—and without his consent, I would never
+yield my hand to any one—are so strong against your cause, that come
+what may, they can never be removed.”</p>
+
+<p>“He must himself, ere long, see the justice of our cause,” said
+Hansford, confidently. “It is impossible that truth can long be hid from
+one, who, like your noble father, must ever be desirous of its success.”</p>
+
+<p>“And do you think,” returned Virginia, “that having failed to arrive at
+your conclusions in his moments of calm reflection, he will be apt to
+change his opinions under the more formidable reasoning of the bayonet?
+Believe me, Hansford, that scenes like those which we have this day
+witnessed, can never reconcile the opposing parties in this unhappy
+strife.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is true, too true,” said Hansford, sorrowfully; “and is there then
+no hope?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, there is a hope,” said Virginia, earnestly. “Let not the foolish
+pride of consistency prevent you from acknowledging an error when
+committed. Boldly and manfully renounce the career into which impulse
+has driven you. Return to your allegiance—to your ancient faith; and
+believe me, that Virginia Temple will rejoice more in your repentance
+than if all the honours of martial glory, or of civic renown, were
+showered upon you. She would rather be the trusting wife of the humble
+and repentant servant of his king, than the queen of a sceptered
+usurper, who clambered to the throne through the blood of the martyrs of
+faith and loyalty.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>“Oh, Virginia!” said Hansford, struggling hard between duty and love.</p>
+
+<p>“I know it is hard to conquer the fearful pride of your heart,” said
+Virginia; “but, Hansford, 'tis a noble courage that is victorious in
+such a contest. Let me hear your decision. There is a civil war in your
+heart,” she added, more playfully, “and that rebel pride must succumb to
+the strong arm of your own self-government.”</p>
+
+<p>“In God's name, tempt me no further!” cried Hansford. “We may well
+believe that man lost his high estate of happiness by the allurements of
+woman, since even now the cause of truth is endangered by listening to
+her persuasions.”</p>
+
+<p>“I had hoped,” replied the young girl, aroused by this sudden change of
+manner on the part of her lover, “that the love which you have so long
+professed was something more than mere profession. But be it so. The
+first sacrifice which you have ever been called upon to make has
+estranged your heart forever, and you toss aside the love which you
+pretended so fondly to cherish, as a toy no longer worthy of your
+regard.”</p>
+
+<p>“This is unkind, Virginia,” returned Hansford, in an injured tone. “I
+have not deserved this at your hands. Sorely you have tempted me; but,
+thank God, not even the sweet hope which you extend can allure me from
+my duty. If my country demand the sacrifice of my heart, then let the
+victim be bound upon her altar. The sweet memories of the past, the love
+which still dwells in that heart, the crushed hopes of the future, will
+all unite to form the sad garland to adorn it for the sacrifice.”</p>
+
+<p>The tone of deep melancholy with which Hansford uttered these words
+showed how painful had been the struggle through which he had passed. It
+had its effect, too, upon the heart of Virginia. She felt how cruel had
+been her language just before—how unjust had been her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> charge of
+inconstancy. She saw at once the fierce contest in Hansford's breast, in
+which duty had triumphed over love. Ingenuous as she ever was, she
+acknowledged her fault, and wept, and was forgiven.</p>
+
+<p>“And now,” said Hansford, more calmly, “my own Virginia—for I may still
+call you so—in thus severing forever the chain which has bound us, I do
+not renounce my love, nor the deep interest which I feel in your future
+destiny. I love you too dearly to wish that you should still love me;
+find elsewhere some one more worthy than I to fill your heart. Forget
+that you ever loved me; if you can, forget that you ever knew me. And
+yet, as a friend, let me warn you, with all the sincerity of my heart,
+to beware of Alfred Bernard.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of whom?” asked Virginia, in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“Of that serpent, who, with gilded crest and subtle guile, would intrude
+into the garden of your heart,” continued Hansford, solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, Hansford,” said Virginia, “you scarcely know the young man of whom
+you speak. Like you, my friend, my affections are buried in the past. I
+can never love again. But yet I would not have you wrong with unjust
+suspicions one who has never done you wrong. On the contrary, even in my
+brief intercourse with him, his conduct towards you has been courteous
+and generous.”</p>
+
+<p>“How hard is it for innocence to suspect guile,” said Hansford. “My
+sweet girl, these very professions of generosity towards me, have but
+sealed my estimate of his character. For me he entertains the deadliest
+hate. Against me he has sworn the deadliest vengeance. I tell you,
+Virginia, that if ever kindly nature implanted an instinct in the human
+heart to warn it of approaching danger, she did so when first I looked
+upon that man. My subsequent knowledge of him but strengthened this
+intuition.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> Mild, insinuating, and artful, he is more to be feared than
+an open foe. I dread a villain when I see him smile.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hush! we are overheard,” said Virginia, trembling, and looking around,
+Hansford saw Arthur Hutchinson, the preacher, emerging from the shadow
+of an adjacent elm tree.</p>
+
+<p>“Young gentleman,” said Hutchinson, in his soft melodious voice, “I have
+heard unwillingly what perhaps I should not. He who would speak in the
+darkness of the night as you have spoken of an absent man, does not care
+to have many auditors.”</p>
+
+<p>“And he who would screen himself in that darkness, to hear what he
+should not,” retorted Hansford, haughtily, “is not the man to resent
+what he has heard, I fear. But what I say, I am ready to maintain with
+my sword—and if you be a friend of the individual of whom I have
+spoken, and choose to espouse his quarrel, let me conduct this young
+lady to a place of safety, and I will return to grant such satisfaction
+as you or your principal may desire.”</p>
+
+<p>“This young maiden will tell you,” said Hutchinson, “that I am not one
+of those who acknowledge that bloody arbiter between man and man, to
+which you refer.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no!” cried Virginia, in an agitated voice; “this is the good parson
+Hutchinson, of whom you have heard.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you, maiden,” said Hutchinson, “are not in the path of duty. Think
+you it is either modest or becoming, to leave your parents and your
+home, and seek a clandestine interview with this stranger. Return to
+your home. You have erred, grossly erred in this.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay,” cried Hansford, in a threatening voice, “if you say ought in
+reproach of this young lady, by heavens, your parson's coat will scarce
+protect you from the just punishment of your insolence;” then suddenly
+checking himself, he added, “Forgive me, sir, this hasty folly. I
+believe you mean well, although your language is something of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> most
+offensive. And say to your friend Mr. Bernard, all that you have heard,
+and tell him for Major Hansford, that there is an account to be settled
+between us, which I have not forgotten.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hansford!” cried the preacher, with emotion, “Hansford, did you say?
+Look ye, sir, I am a minister of peace, and cannot on my conscience bear
+your hostile message. But I warn you, if your name indeed be Hansford,
+that you are in danger from the young man of whom you speak. His blood
+is hot, his arm is skilful, and towards you his purpose is not good.”</p>
+
+<p>“I thank you for your timely warning, good sir,” returned Hansford,
+haughtily; “but you speak of danger to one who regards it not.” Then
+turning to Virginia, he said in a low voice, “'Tis at least a blessing,
+that the despair which denies to the heart the luxury of love, at least
+makes it insensible to fear.”</p>
+
+<p>“And are you such an one,” said Hutchinson, overhearing him; “and is it
+on thee that the iniquities of the father will be visited. Forbid it,
+gracious heaven, and forgive as thou would'st have me forgive the sins
+of the past.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Hutchinson,” said Hansford, annoyed by the preacher's solemn manner
+and mysterious words, “I know nothing, and care little for all this
+mystery. Your brain must be a little disordered—for I assure you, that
+as I was born in the colony, and you are but a recent settler here, it
+is impossible that there can be any such mysterious tie between us as
+that at which you so darkly hint.”</p>
+
+<p>“The day may come,” replied Hutchinson, in the same solemn manner, “when
+you will know all to your cost—and when you may find that care and
+sorrow can indeed shake reason on her throne.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, be it so, but as you value your safety, urge me no further with
+these menaces. But pardon me, how came you in this enclosure? Know you
+not that you are within<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> the boundaries of the General's camp, against
+his strict orders?”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye,” replied the preacher, “I knew that the rebels were encamped
+hereabout, but I did not, and do not, see by what right they can impede
+a peaceful citizen in his movements.”</p>
+
+<p>“Reverend sir,” said Hansford, “you have the reputation of having a
+sound head on your shoulders, and should have a prudent tongue in your
+head. I would advise you, therefore, to refrain from the too frequent
+use of that word 'rebel,' which just fell from you. But it is time we
+should part. I will conduct you to the gate lest you find some
+difficulty in passing the sentry, and you will oblige me, kind sir, by
+seeing this young lady to her home.” Then turning to Virginia, he
+whispered his brief adieu, and imprinting a long, warm kiss upon her
+lips, he led the way in silence to the gate. Here they parted. She to
+return to her quiet chamber to mourn over hopes thus fled forever, and
+he to forget self and sorrow in the stirring events of martial life.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i2">“In the service of mankind to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A guardian god below; still to employ<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mind's brave ardour in heroic aims,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such as may raise us o'er the grovelling herd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And make us shine forever—that is life.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i28"><i>Thomson.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>In a short time the bustle and stir in the camp of the insurgents
+announced that their little army was about to commence its march.
+Nathaniel Bacon rode slowly along Stuart street, at the head of the
+soldiery, and leaving Jamestown to the east, extended his march towards
+the falls of James river. Here, he had received intelligence that the
+hostile tribes had gathered to a head, and he determined without delay
+to march upon them unawares, and with one decisive blow to put an end to
+the war. Flushed with triumph, he thought, the soldiery would more
+willingly and efficiently turn their arms against the government, and
+aid in carrying out his darling project of effecting some organic
+changes in the charter of the colony; if, indeed, it was not already his
+purpose to dissolve the political connection of Virginia with the mother
+country.</p>
+
+<p>The little party rode on in silence for several miles, for each was
+buried in his own reflections. Bacon, with his own peculiar views of
+ambition and glory, felt but little sympathy with those who united in
+the rebellion for the specific object of a march against the savages.
+Hansford was meditating on the heavy sacrifice which he had made for his
+country's service, and striving to see, in the dim future, some gleam of
+hope which might cheer him in his gloom. Lawrence and Drummond, the two
+most influential<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> leaders in the movement, had been left behind in
+Jamestown, their place of residence, to watch the movements of Berkeley,
+in whose fair promises none of the insurgents seemed to place implicit
+confidence. The rest of the little party had already exhausted in
+discussion the busy events of the day, and remained silent from want of
+material for conversation.</p>
+
+<p>At length, however, Bacon, whose knowledge of human nature had
+penetrated the depths of Hansford's heart, and who felt deeply for his
+favourite, gave him the signal to advance somewhat in front of their
+comrades, and the following conversation took place:</p>
+
+<p>“And so, my friend,” said Bacon, in the mild, winning voice, which he
+knew so well how to assume; “and so, my friend, you have renounced your
+dearest hopes in life for this glorious enterprise.”</p>
+
+<p>Hansford only answered with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>“Take it not thus hardly,” continued Bacon. “Think of your loss as a
+sacrifice to liberty. Look to the future for your happiness, to a
+redeemed and liberated country for your home—to glory as your bride.”</p>
+
+<p>“Alas!” said Hansford, “glory could never repay the loss of happiness.
+Believe me, General, that personal fame is not what I covet. Far better
+would it be for me to have been born and reared in obscurity, and to
+pass my brief life with those I love, than for the glittering bauble,
+glory, to give up all that is dear to the heart.”</p>
+
+<p>“And do you repent the course you have taken,” asked Bacon, with some
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“Repent! no; God forbid that I should repent of any sacrifice which I
+have made to the cause of my country. But it is duty that prompts me,
+not glory. For as to this selfsame will-o'-the-wisp, which seems to
+allure so many from happiness, I trust it not. I am much of the little
+Prince Arthur's mind—</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">'By my Christendom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So I were out of prison and kept sheep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I should be as merry as the day is long.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Duty is the prison which at last keeps man from enjoying his own happier
+inclination.”</p>
+
+<p>“There you are wrong, Hansford,” said Bacon, “duty is the poor drudge,
+which, patient in its harness, pursues the will of another. Glory is the
+wild, unconfined eagle, that impatient of restraint would soar to a
+heaven of its own.”</p>
+
+<p>“And is it such an object as this that actuates you in our present
+enterprise?” asked Hansford.</p>
+
+<p>“Both,” replied the enthusiastic leader. “Man, in his actions, is
+controlled by many forces—and duty is chiefly prized when it waits as
+the humble handmaiden on glory. But in this enterprise other feelings
+enter in to direct my course. Revenge against these relentless wolves of
+the forest for the murder of a friend—revenge against that proud old
+tyrant, Berkeley, who, clothed in a little brief authority, would
+trample me under his feet,—love of my country, which impels me to aid
+in her reformation, and to secure her liberty—and, nay, don't
+frown,—desire for that fame which is to the mere discharge of plain
+duty what the spirit is to the body—which directs and sustains it here,
+but survives its dissolution. Are not these sufficient motives of
+action?”</p>
+
+<p>“Pardon me, General,” said Hansford, “but I see only one motive here
+which is worthy of you. Self-preservation, not revenge, could alone
+justify an assault upon these misguided savages—and your love of
+country is sufficient inducement to urge you to her protection and
+defence. But these motives are chiefly personal to yourself. How can you
+expect them to affect the minds of your followers?”</p>
+
+<p>“Look ye, Major Hansford,” said Bacon, “I speak to you as I do not to
+most men—because I know you have a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> mind and a heart superior to
+them—I would dare not attempt to influence you as I do others; but do
+you see those poor trusting fellows that are following in our wake?
+These men help men like you and me to rise, as feathers help the eagle
+to soar above the clouds. But the proud bird may moult a feather from
+his pinion without descending from his lofty pride of place.”</p>
+
+<p>“And this then is what you call liberty?” said Hansford, a little
+offended at the overbearing manner of the young demagogue.</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly,” returned Bacon, calmly, “the only liberty for which the
+mass of mankind are fitted. The instincts of nature point them to the
+man most worthy to control their destinies. Their brute force aids in
+elevating him to power—and then he returns upon their heads the
+blessings with which they have entrusted him. Do you remember the happy
+compliment of my old namesake of St. Albans to Queen Elizabeth? Royalty
+is the heaven which, like the blessed sun, exhales the moisture from the
+earth, and then distilling it in gentle rains, it falleth on the heads
+of those from whom she has received it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I remember the compliment, which beautiful though it may be in imagery,
+I always thought was but the empty flattery of a vain old royal spinster
+by an accomplished courtier. I never suspected that St. Albans, far less
+his relative, Nathaniel Bacon, believed it to be true. And so, with all
+your high flown doctrines of popular rights and popular liberty, you are
+an advocate for royalty at last.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, you mistake me, I will not say wilfully,” replied Bacon, in an
+offended tone, “I merely used the sentiment as an illustration of what I
+had been saying. The people must have rulers, and my idea of liberty
+only extends to their selection of them. After that, stability in
+government requires that the power of the people should cease, and that
+of the ruler begin. You may purify the stream through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> which the power
+flows, by constantly resorting to the fountain head; but if you keep the
+power pent up in the fountain, like water, it will stagnate and become
+impure, or else overflow its banks and devastate that soil which it was
+intended to fertilize.”</p>
+
+<p>“Our ideas of liberty, I confess,” said Hansford, “differ very widely.
+God grant that our antagonistic views may not prejudice the holy cause
+in which we are now engaged.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, let us drop the subject then,” said Bacon, carelessly, “as there
+is so little prospect of our agreeing in sentiment. What I said was
+merely meant to while away this tedious journey, and make you forget
+your own private griefs. But tell me, what do you think of the result of
+this enterprise?”</p>
+
+<p>“I think it attended with great danger,” replied Hansford.</p>
+
+<p>“I had not thought,” returned Bacon, with something between a smile and
+a sneer, “that Thomas Hansford would have considered the question of
+peril involved in a contest like this.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am at a loss to understand your meaning,” said Hansford, indignantly.
+“If you think I regard danger for myself, I tell you that it is a
+feeling as far a stranger to my bosom as to your own, and this I am
+ready to maintain. If you meant no offence, I will merely say that it is
+the part of every general to 'sit down and consider the cost' before
+engaging in any enterprise.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why will you be so quick to take offence?” said Bacon. “Do I not know
+that fear is a stranger to your breast?—else why confide in you as I
+have done? But I spoke not of the danger attending our enterprise. To me
+danger is not a matter of indifference, it is an object of desire. They
+who would bathe in a Stygian wave, to render them invulnerable, are not
+worthy of the name of heroes. It is only the unmailed warrior, whose
+form, like the white plume of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> Navarre, is seen where danger is the
+thickest, that is truly brave and truly great.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are a singular being, Bacon,” said Hansford, with admiration, “and
+were born to be a hero. But tell me, what is it that you expect or hope
+for poor Virginia, when all your objects may be attained? She is still
+but a poor, helpless colony, sapped of her resources by a relentless
+sovereign, and expected to submit quietly to the oppressions of those
+who would enslave her.”</p>
+
+<p>“By heavens, no!” cried Bacon, impetuously. “It shall never be. Her
+voice has been already heard by haughty England, and it shall again be
+heard in thunder tones. She who yielded not to the call of an imperious
+dictator—she who proposed terms to Cromwell—will not long bear the
+insulting oppression of the imbecile Stuarts. The day is coming, and now
+is, when on this Western continent shall arise a nation, before whose
+potent sway even Britain shall be forced to bow. Virginia shall be the
+Rome and England shall be the Troy, and history will record the annals
+of that haughty and imperious kingdom chiefly because she was the mother
+of this western Rome. Yes,” he continued, borne along impetuously by his
+own gushing thoughts, “there shall come a time when Freedom will look
+westward for her home, and when the oppressed of every nation shall
+watch with anxious eye that star of Freedom in its onward course, and
+follow its bright guidance till it stands over the place where
+Virginia—this young child of Liberty—is; and oh! Hansford, will it
+then be nothing that we were among those who watched the infant
+breathings of that political Saviour—who gave it the lessons of wisdom
+and of virtue, and first taught it to speak and proclaim its mission to
+the world? Will it then be nothing for future generations to point to
+our names, and, in the language of pride and gratitude, to cry, there go
+the authors of our freedom?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>So spake the young enthusiast, thus dimly foreshadowing the glory that
+was to be—the freedom which, just one hundred years from that eventful
+period, burst upon the world. He was not permitted, like Simeon of old,
+to see the salvation for which he longed, and for which he wrought. And
+yet he helped to plant the germ, which expanded into the wide-spreading
+tree, and his name should not be forgotten by those who rejoice in its
+fruit, or rest secure beneath its shade.</p>
+
+<p>Thus whiling away the hours of the night in such engrossing subjects,
+Hansford had nearly forgotten his sorrows in the visions of the future.
+How beneficent the Providence which thus enables the mind to receive
+from without entirely new impressions, which soften down, though they
+cannot erase, the wounds that a harsh destiny has inflicted.</p>
+
+<p>But it is time that the thread of our narrative was broken, in order to
+follow the fortunes of an humble, yet worthy character of our story.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“I am sorry for thee; thou art come to answer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Uncapable of pity, void and empty<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From any claim of mercy.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i14"><i>Merchant of Venice.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>It was on a bright and beautiful morning—for mysterious nature often
+smiles on the darkest deeds of her children—that a group of Indians
+were assembled around the council-fire in one of the extensive forest
+ranges of Virginia. Their faces painted in the most grotesque and
+hideous manner, the fierceness of their looks, and the savageness of
+their dress, would alone have inspired awe in the breast of a spectator.
+But on the present occasion, the fatal business in which they were
+engaged imparted even more than usual wildness to their appearance and
+vehemence to their manner. Bound to a neighbouring tree so tightly as to
+produce the most acute pain to the poor creature, was an aged negro, who
+seemed to be the object of the vehement eloquence of his savage captors.
+Although confinement, torture, and despair had effected a fearful
+change, by tracing the lines of great suffering on his countenance, yet
+it would not have been difficult even then to recognize in the poor
+trembling wretch our old negro friend at Windsor Hall.</p>
+
+<p>After discovering the deception that had been practised on them by
+Mamalis, and punishing the selfish ambition of Manteo, by expelling him
+from their tribe, the Indian warriors returned to Windsor Hall, and
+finding the family had escaped, seized upon old Giles as the victim on
+whom to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> wreak their vengeance. With the savage cruelty of their race,
+his tormentors had doomed him, not to sudden death, which would have
+been welcome to the miserable wretch, but to a slow and lingering
+torture.</p>
+
+<p>It would be too painful to dwell long upon the nature of the tortures
+thus inflicted upon their victims. With all their coarseness and
+rudeness of manner and life, the Indians had arrived at a refinement and
+skill in cruelty which the persecutors of the reformers in Europe might
+envy, but to which they had never attained. Among these, tearing the
+nails from the hands and feet, knocking out the teeth with a club,
+lacerating the flesh with rough, dull muscle and oyster-shells,
+inserting sharp splinters into the wounded flesh, and then firing them
+until the unhappy being is gradually roasted to death—these were among
+the tortures more frequently inflicted. From the threats and
+preparations of his captors, old Giles had reason to apprehend that the
+worst of these tortures he would soon be called upon to endure.</p>
+
+<p>There is, thank God, a period, when the burdens of this life become so
+grievous, that the prayer of the fabled faggot-binder may rise sincerely
+on the lips, and when death would indeed be a welcome friend—when it is
+even soothing to reflect that,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“We bear our heavy burdens but a journey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till death unloads us.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Such was the period at which the wretched negro had now arrived. He
+listened, therefore, with patient composure to the fierce, threatening
+language of the warriors, which his former association with Manteo
+enabled him, when aided by their wild gesticulation, to comprehend. But
+it was far from the intention of the Indians to release him yet from his
+terrible existence. One of the braves approaching the poor helpless
+wretch with a small cord of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> catgut, such as was used by them for
+bow-strings, prepared to bind it tightly around his thumb, while the
+others gathering around in a circle waved their war-clubs high in air to
+inflict the painful bastinado. When old Giles saw the Indian approach,
+and fully comprehended his design, his heart sank within him at this new
+instrument of torture, and in despairing accents he groaned—</p>
+
+<p>“Kill me, kill me, but for de Lord's sake, massa, don't put dat horrid
+thing on de poor old nigga.”</p>
+
+<p>Regardless of his cries, the powerful Indian adjusted the cord, and with
+might and main drew it so tightly around the thumb that it entered the
+flesh even to the bone, while the poor negro shrieked in agony. Then, to
+drown the cry, the other savages commencing a wild, rude chant, let
+their war-clubs descend upon their victim with such force that he
+fainted. Just at this moment the quick ears of the Indians caught the
+almost inaudible sound of approaching horsemen, and as they paused to
+satisfy themselves of the truth of their suspicions, Bacon and his
+little band of faithful followers appeared full in sight. Leaving their
+victim in a moment, the savages prepared to defend themselves from the
+assault of their intruders, and with the quickness of thought,
+concealing themselves behind the trees and undergrowth of the forest,
+they sent a shower of arrows into the unwary ranks of their adversaries.</p>
+
+<p>“By Jove, that had like to have been my death-stroke,” cried Bacon, as
+an arrow directed full against his breast, glanced from a gilt button of
+his coat and fell harmless to the ground. But others of the party were
+not so fortunate as their leader. Several of the men, pierced by the
+poisoned arrows of the enemy, fell dead.</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding the success of this first charge of the Indians, Bacon
+and his party sustained the shock with coolness and intrepidity. Their
+gallant leader, himself careless of life or safety, led the charge, and
+on his power<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>ful horse he was, like the royal hero to whom he had
+compared himself, ever seen in the thickest of the carnage. Well did he
+prove himself that day worthy of the confidence of his faithful
+followers.</p>
+
+<p>Nor loth were the Indians to return their charge. Although their party
+only amounted to about fifty, and Bacon's men numbered several hundred,
+yet was the idea of retreat abhorrent to their martial feelings.
+Screening themselves with comparative safety behind the large forest
+trees, or lying under the protection of the thick undergrowth, they kept
+up a constant attack with their arrows, and succeeded in effecting
+considerable loss to the whites, who, incommoded by their horses, or
+unaccustomed to this system of bush fighting, failed to produce a
+corresponding effect upon their savage foe.</p>
+
+<p>There was something in the religion of these simple sons of the forest
+which imparted intrepid boldness to their characters, unattainable by
+ordinary discipline. The material conception which they entertained of
+the spirit-world, where valour and heroism were the passports of
+admission, created a disregard for life such as no civilized man could
+well entertain. In that new land, to which death was but the threshold,
+their pursuits were the same in character, though greater in degree, as
+those in which they here engaged. There they would be welcomed by the
+brave warriors of a former day, and engage still in fierce contests with
+hostile tribes. There they would enjoy the delights of the chase through
+spirit forests, deeper and more gigantic than those through which they
+wandered in life. Theirs was the Valhalla to which the brave alone were
+admitted, and among whose martial habitants would continue the same
+emulation in battle, the same stoicism in suffering, as in their
+forest-world. Such was the character of their simple religion, which
+created in their breasts that heroism<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> and fortitude, in danger or in
+pain, that has with one accord been attributed to them.</p>
+
+<p>But despite their valour and resolution, the contest, with such
+disparity of numbers, must needs be brief. Bacon pursued each advantage
+which he gained with relentless vigour, ever and anon cheering his
+followers, and crying out, as he rushed onward to the charge, “Don't let
+one of the bloody dogs escape. Remember, my gallant boys, the peace of
+your firesides and the lives and safety of your wives and children.
+Remember the brave men who have already fallen before the hand of the
+savage foe.”</p>
+
+<p>Faithful to his injunction, the overwhelming power of the whites soon
+strewed the ground with the bodies of the brave savages. The few who
+remained, dispirited and despairing, fled through the forest from the
+irresistible charge of the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime the unfortunate Giles had recovered from the swoon into which
+he had fallen, and began to look wildly about him, as though in a dream.
+To the fact that the contending parties had been closely engaged, and
+that from this cause not a gun had been fired, the old negro probably
+owed his life. With the superstition of his race, the poor creature
+attributed this fortunate succour to a miraculous interposition of
+Providence in his behalf; and when he saw the last of his oppressors
+flying before the determined onslaught of the white men, he fervently
+cried,</p>
+
+<p>“Thank the Lord, for he done sent his angels to stop de lion's mouf, and
+to save de poor old nigger from dere hands.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hallo, comrades,” said Berkenhead, when he espied the poor old negro
+bound to the tree, “who have we here? This must be old Ochee<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a>
+himself, whom the Lord has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> delivered into our hands. Hark ye,” he
+added, proceeding to unbind him, “where do you come from?—or are you in
+reality the evil one, whom these infidel red-skins worship?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no, Massa, I a'ant no evil sperrit. A sperrit hab not flesh and
+bones as you see me hab.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay,” returned the coarse-hearted soldier, “that reasoning won't serve
+your purpose, for there is precious little flesh and blood about you,
+old man. The most you can lay claim to is skin and bones.”</p>
+
+<p>Hansford, who had been standing a little distance off, was attracted by
+this conversation, and turning in the direction of the old negro, was
+much surprised to recognize, under such horrible circumstances, the
+quondam steward, butler and factotum of Windsor Hall. Nor was Giles'
+surprise less in meeting with Miss Virginia's “buck” in so secluded a
+spot. It was with difficulty that Hansford could prevent him from
+throwing his arms around his neck; but giving the old man a hearty shake
+of the hand, he asked him the story of his captivity, which Giles, with
+much importance, proceeded to relate. But he had scarcely begun his
+narrative, when the attention of the insurgents was attracted by the
+approach of two horsemen, who advanced towards them at a rapid rate, as
+though they had some important intelligence to communicate.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> The evil spirit, sometimes called Opitchi Manitou, and worshipped
+by the Indians.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i24"><i>Richard III.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>The new comers were Lawrence and Drummond, who, as will be recollected
+by the reader, were left in Jamestown to watch the proceedings of the
+Governor, and to convey to Bacon any needful intelligence concerning
+them. Although he had, in the first impulse of triumph after receiving
+his commission, confided fully in the promises of the vacillating
+Berkeley, yet, on reflection, Bacon did not rely very implicitly upon
+them. The Governor had once before broken his word in the affair of the
+parole, promising to grant the commission which he craved, upon
+condition of his confession of his former disloyal conduct and his
+promise to amend. Bacon was not the man to be twice deceived, and it did
+not therefore much surprise him to see the two patriots so soon after
+his departure from Jamestown, nor to hear the strange tidings which they
+had come to detail.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, how is this, General?” said Lawrence. “You have had bloody work
+already, it seems; and not without some loss to your own party.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, there they lie,” returned Bacon. “God rest their brave souls! But
+being dead, they yet speak—speak to us to avenge their death on the
+bloody savages who have slaughtered them, and to proclaim the insane
+policy of Berkeley in delaying our march against the foe. But what make
+you from Jamestown?”</p>
+
+<p>“Bad news or good, General, as you choose to take it,” replied Lawrence.
+“Berkeley has dissolved the Assembly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> in a rage, because they supported
+you in your demand of yesterday, and has himself, with his crouching
+minions, retired to Gloucester.”</p>
+
+<p>“To Gloucester!” cried Bacon. “That is indeed news. But what can the old
+dotard mean by such a movement?”</p>
+
+<p>“He has already made known his reasons,” returned Lawrence. “He has
+cancelled your commission, and proclaimed you, and all engaged with you,
+as rebels and traitors.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, this is infamous!” said Bacon. “Is the old knave such an enemy to
+truth that it cannot live upon his lips for one short day? And who,
+pray, is rash enough to uphold him in his despotism, or base enough to
+screen him in his infamy?”</p>
+
+<p>“It was whispered as we left,” said Drummond, “that a certain Colonel
+Henry Temple had avouched the loyalty of Gloucester, and prevailed upon
+the Governor to make his house his castle, during what he is pleased to
+term this unhappy rebellion.”</p>
+
+<p>“And by my soul,” said Bacon, fiercely, “I will teach this certain
+Colonel Henry Temple the hazard that he runs in thus abetting tyranny
+and villainy. If he would not have his house beat down over his ears, he
+were wise to withdraw his aid and support; else, if his house be a
+castle at all, it is like to be a castle in Spain.”</p>
+
+<p>Hansford, who was an eager listener, as we may suppose, to the foregoing
+conversation, was alarmed at this determination of his impulsive leader.
+He knew too well the obstinate loyalty of Temple to doubt that he would
+resist at every hazard, rather than deliver his noble guest into the
+hands of his enemies. He felt assured, too, that if the report were
+true, Virginia had accompanied her father to Gloucester, and his very
+soul revolted at the idea of her being subjected to the disagreeable
+results which would flow from an attack upon Windsor Hall. The only
+chance of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> avoiding the difficulty, was to offer his own mediation, and
+in the event, which he foresaw, of Colonel Temple refusing to come to
+terms, he trusted that there was at least magnanimity enough left in the
+old Governor to induce him to seek some other refuge, rather than to
+subject his hospitable and loyal host to the consequences of his
+kindness. There was indeed some danger attending such a mission in the
+present inflamed state of Berkeley's mind. But this, Hansford held at
+naught. Hastily revolving in his mind these thoughts, he ventured to
+suggest to Bacon, that an attack upon Colonel Temple's house would
+result in the worst consequences to the cause of the patriots; that it
+would effect no good, as the Governor might again promise, and again
+recant—and, that it would be difficult to induce his followers to
+embark in an enterprise so foreign to the avowed object of the
+expedition, and against a man whose character was well known, and
+beloved by the people of the Colony.</p>
+
+<p>Bacon calmly heard him through, as though struck with the truth of the
+views he presented, and then added with a sarcastic smile, which stung
+Hansford to the quick, “and moreover, the sight of soldiers and of
+fire-arms might alarm the ladies.”</p>
+
+<p>“And, if such a motive as that did influence my opinion,” said Hansford,
+“I hope it was neither unworthy a soldier or a man.”</p>
+
+<p>“Unworthy alike of both,” replied Bacon, “of a soldier, because the will
+and command of his superior officer should be his only law—and of a
+man, because, in a cause affecting his rights and liberties, any
+sacrifice of feeling should be willingly and cheerfully made.”</p>
+
+<p>“That sacrifice I now make,” said Hansford, vainly endeavouring to
+repress his indignation, “in not retorting more harshly to your
+imputation. The time may yet come when no such sacrifice shall be
+required, and when none, I assure you, shall be made.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>“And, when it comes, young man,” returned Bacon, haughtily, “be assured
+that I will not be backward in affording you an opportunity of defending
+yourself—meantime you are under my command—and will please remember
+that you are so. But, gentlemen,” he continued, turning to the others,
+“what say you to our conduct in these circumstances. Shall we proceed to
+Powhatan, against the enemy of a country to which we are traitors, or
+shall we march on this mendacious old Knight, and once again wipe off
+the stigma which he has placed upon our names?”</p>
+
+<p>“I think,” said Lawrence, after a pause of some moments, “that there is
+a good deal of truth in the views presented by Major Hansford. But,
+could not some middle course be adopted. I don't exactly see how it can
+be effected, but, if the Governor were met by remonstrance of his
+injustice, and informed of our determination to resist it as such, it
+seems to me that he would be forced to recant this last proclamation,
+and all would be well again.”</p>
+
+<p>“And who think you would carry the remonstrance,” said Bacon. “It would
+be about as wise to thrust your head in a lion's mouth, as to trust
+yourself in the hands of the old fanatic. I know not whom we could get
+to bear such a mission,” he added, smiling, “unless our friend Ingram
+there, who having been accustomed to ropes in his youth, if report
+speaks true, need have no fear of them in age.”<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a></p>
+
+<p>“In faith, General,” replied the quondam rope-dancer, “I am only expert
+in managing the cable when it supports my feet. But I have never been
+able to perform the feat of dancing on nothing and holding on by my
+neck.”</p>
+
+<p>“General Bacon,” said Hansford, stepping forward, “I am willing to
+execute your mission to the Governor.”</p>
+
+<p>“My dear boy,” said Bacon, grasping him warmly by the hand, “forgive me
+for speaking so roughly to you just now,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> I am almost ready to cut my
+tongue out of my head for having said anything to wound your feelings.
+But damn that old treacherous fox, he inflamed me so, that I must have
+let out some of my bad humour or choked in retaining it.”</p>
+
+<p>Hansford returned his grasp warmly, perhaps the more ready to forgive
+and forget, as he saw a prospect of attaining his object in protecting
+the family of his friend from harm.</p>
+
+<p>“But you shall not go,” continued Bacon. “It were madness to venture
+within the clutch of the infuriated old madman.”</p>
+
+<p>“Whatever were the danger,” said Hansford, “this was my proposition, and
+on me devolves the peril, if peril there be in its execution. But there
+is really none. Colonel Temple, although a bigot in his loyalty, is the
+last person to violate the rites of hospitality or to despise a flag of
+truce. And Sir William Berkeley dare not disregard either whilst under
+his roof.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, so let it be then,” said Bacon, “but I fear that you place too
+much reliance on the good faith of your old friend Temple. Believe me,
+that these Tories hold a doctrine in their political creed, very much
+akin to the Papal doctrine of intolerance. 'Faith towards heretics, is
+infidelity to religion.' But you must at least take some force with
+you.”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe not,” returned our hero, “the presence of an armed force
+would be an insuperable barrier to a reconciliation. I will only take my
+subaltern, Berkenhead, yonder, and that poor old negro, in whose
+liberation I sincerely rejoice. The first will be a companion, and in
+case of danger some protection; and the last, if you choose,” he added
+smiling, “will be a make-peace between the political papist and the
+rebel heretic.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, God bless you, Hansford,” said Bacon, with much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> warmth, “and
+above all, forget my haste and unkindness just now. We must learn to
+forgive like old Romans, if we would be valiant like them, and so</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'When I am over-earnest with you, Hansford,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You'll think old Berkeley chides, and leave me so.'”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“With all my heart, my noble General,” returned Hansford, laughing, “and
+now for my mission—what shall I say on behalf of treason to his royal
+highness?”</p>
+
+<p>“Tell him,” said Bacon, gravely, “that Nathaniel Bacon, by the grace of
+God, and the special trust and confidence of Sir William Berkeley,
+general-in-chief of the armies of Virginia, desires to know for what act
+of his, since such trust was reposed in him, he and his followers have
+been proclaimed as traitors to their king. Ask him for what reason it is
+that while pursuing the common enemies of the country—while attacking
+in their lairs the wolves and lions of the forest, I, myself, am
+mercilessly assaulted like a savage wild beast, by those whom it is my
+object to defend. Tell him that I require him to retract the
+proclamation he has issued without loss of time, and in the event of his
+refusal, I am ready to assert and defend the rights of freemen by the
+last arbiter between man and man. Lastly, say to him, that I will await
+his answer until two days from this time, and should it still prove
+unfavourable to my demands, then woe betide him.”</p>
+
+<p>Charged with the purport of his mission, Hansford shook Bacon cordially
+by the hand, and proceeded to prepare for his journey. As he was going
+to inform his comrade, old Lawrence gently tapped him on the shoulder,
+and whispered, “Look ye, Tom, I like not the appearance of that fellow
+Berkenhead.”</p>
+
+<p>“He is faithful, I believe,” said Hansford, in the same tone; “a little
+rough and free spoken, perhaps, but I do not doubt his fidelity.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>“I would I were of the same mind,” returned his companion; “but if ever
+the devil set his mark upon a man's face that he might know him on the
+resurrection morning, he did so on that crop-eared Puritan. Tell me,
+aint he the same fellow that got his freedom and two hundred pounds for
+revealing the insurrection of sixty-two?”</p>
+
+<p>“The same, I believe,” said Hansford, carelessly; “but what of that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why simply this,” said the honest old cavalier, “that faith is like a
+walking-cane. Break it once and you may glue it so that the fracture can
+scarcely be seen by the naked eye; but it will break in the same place
+if there be a strain upon it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope you are mistaken,” said Hansford; “but I thank you for your
+warning, and will not disregard it. I will be on my guard.”</p>
+
+<p>“Here, Lawrence,” cried Bacon, “what private message are you sending to
+the Governor, that you must needs be delaying our ambassador? We have a
+sad duty to perform. These brave men, who have fallen in our cause, must
+not be suffered to lie a prey to vultures. Let them be buried as becomes
+brave soldiers, who have died right bravely with their harness on. I
+would there were some one here who could perform the rites of
+burial—but their requiem shall be sung with our song of triumph. Peace
+to their souls! Comrades, prepare their grave, and pay due honour to
+their memory by discharging a volley of musketry over them. I wot they
+well loved the sound while living—nor will they sleep less sweetly for
+it now.”</p>
+
+<p>By such language, and such real or affected interest in the fate of
+those who followed his career, Nathaniel Bacon won the affection of his
+soldiery. Never was there a leader, even in the larger theatres of
+action, more sincerely beloved and worshipped—and to this may be
+attributed in a great degree the wonderful power which he possessed over
+the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> minds of his followers—moulding their opinions in strict
+conformity with his own; breathing into them something of the ardent
+heroism which inspired his own soul, and making them thus the willing
+and subservient instruments of his own ambitious designs.</p>
+
+<p>With sad countenances the soldiers proceeded to obey the order of their
+general. Scooping with their swords and bayonets a shallow grave in the
+soft virgin soil of the forest, they committed the bodies of their
+comrades to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to
+dust—and as they screened their ashes forever from the light of day,
+the “aisles of the dim woods” echoed back the loud roar of the unheard,
+unheeded honour which they paid to the memory of the dead.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> He was in truth a rope-dancer in his early life.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“But the poor dog, in life the dearest friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first to welcome, foremost to defend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose honest heart is still his master's own;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unhonoured falls, unnoticed all his worth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Denied in heaven the soul he had on earth.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Byron.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>When the last sad rites of burial had been performed over the grave of
+those who had fallen, Hansford, accompanied by Berkenhead and old Giles,
+proceeded to the discharge of the trust which had been reposed in him.
+It was indeed a mission fraught with the most important consequences to
+the cause of the insurgents, to the family at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> Windsor Hall, and to
+himself personally. It required both a cool head and a brave heart to
+succeed in its execution. Hansford well knew that the first burst of
+rage from the old Governor, on hearing the bold proposition of the
+rebels, would be dangerous, if not fatal to himself; and with all the
+native boldness of his character, it would be unnatural if he failed to
+feel the greatest anxiety for the result. But even if <i>he</i> escaped the
+vengeance of Berkeley, he feared the impulsive nature of Bacon, in the
+event of the refusal of Sir William to comply with his demands, would
+drive him into excesses ruinous to his cause, and dangerous alike to the
+innocent and the guilty. If Temple's obstinacy and chivalry persisted in
+giving refuge to the Governor, what, he thought, might be the
+consequences to her, whose interest and whose safety he held so deeply
+at heart! Thus the statesman, the lover, and the individual, each had a
+peculiar interest in the result, and Hansford felt like a wise man the
+heavy responsibility he had incurred, although he resolved to encounter
+and discharge it like a bold one.</p>
+
+<p>It was thus, with a heavy heart that he proceeded on his way, and buried
+in these reflections he maintained a moody silence, little regarding the
+presence of his two companions. Old Giles, too, had his own food for
+reflection, and vouchsafed only monosyllables in reply to the questions
+and observations of the loquacious Berkenhead. But the soldier was not
+to be repulsed by the indifference of the one, or the laconic answers of
+the other of his companions. Finding it impossible to engage in
+conversation, he contented himself with soliloquy, and in a low,
+muttering voice, as if to himself, but intended as well for the ears of
+his commander, he began an elaborate comparison of the army of Cromwell,
+in which he had served, and the army of the Virginia insurgents.</p>
+
+<p>“To be sure, they both fought for liberty, but after that there is
+monstrous little likeness between 'em. Old Noll was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> always acting
+himself, and laying it all to Providence when he was done; while General
+Bacon, cavorting round, first after the Indians and then after the
+Governor, seems hardly to know what he is about, and yet, I believe,
+trusts in Providence at last more than Noll, with all his religion; and,
+faith, it seems to me it took more religion to do him than most any man
+I ever see. First psalm singing, and then fighting, and then psalm
+singing agen, and then more fighting—for all the world like a brick
+house with mortar stuck between. But I trow that it was the fighting
+that made the house stand, after all. And yet I believe, for all the
+saints used to nickname me a sinner, and call me one of the spawn of the
+beast, because I would get tired of the Word sometimes—and, by the same
+token, old brother Purge-the-temple Whithead had a whole dictionary of
+words, much less the one—yet, for all come and gone, I believe I would
+rather hear a long psalm, than to be doomed to solitary confinement to
+my own thoughts, as I am here.”</p>
+
+<p>“And so you have served in old Noll's army, as you call it,” said
+Hansford, smiling in spite of himself, and willing to indulge the old
+Oliverian with some little notice.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes, Major,” replied Berkenhead, delighted to have gained an
+auditor at last; “and a rare service it was too. A little too much of
+what they called the church militant, and the like, for me; but for all
+that the fellows fought like devils, if they did live like saints—and,
+what was rare to me, they did not deal the less lightly with their
+swords for the fervour of their prayers, nor pray the less fervently for
+their enemies after they had raked them with their fire, or hacked them
+to pieces with their swords. 'Faith, an if there had been many more
+battles like Dunbar and Worcester, they had as well have blotted that
+text from their Bible, for precious few enemies did they have to pray
+for after that.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>“You did not agree with these zealots in religion, then,” said Hansford.
+“Prythee, friend, of what sect of Christians are you a member?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Major, to speak the truth and shame the devil, as they say, my
+religion has pretty much gone with my sword. As a soldier must change
+his coat whenever he changes his service, so I have thought he should
+make his faith—the robe of his righteousness, as they call it—adapt
+itself to that of his employer.”</p>
+
+<p>“The cloak of his hypocrisy, you mean,” said Hansford, indignantly. “I
+like not this scoffing profanity, and must hear no more of it. He who is
+not true to his God is of a bad material for a patriot. But tell me,” he
+added, seeing that the man seemed sufficiently rebuked, “how came you to
+this colony?”</p>
+
+<p>“Simply because I could not stay in England,” replied Berkenhead. “Mine
+has been a hard lot, Major; for I never got what I wanted in this life.
+If I was predestined for anything, as old Purge-the-temple used to say
+we all were, it seems to me it was to be always on the losing side. When
+I fought for freedom in England, I gained bondage in Virginia for my
+pains; and when I refused to seek my freedom, and betrayed my comrades
+in the insurrection of sixty-two, lo, and behold! I was released from
+bondage for my reward. What I will gain or lose by this present
+movement, I don't know; but I have been an unlucky adventurer thus far.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have heard of your behaviour in sixty-two,” said Hansford, “but
+whether such conduct be laudable or censurable, depends very much upon
+the motive that prompted you to it. You came to this country then as an
+indented servant?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, sold, your honour, for the thirty pieces of silver, like Joseph
+was sold into Egypt by his brethren.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>“I suspect that the resemblance between yourself and that eminent
+patriarch ceased with the sale.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is not for me to say, your honour. But in the present unsettled
+state of affairs, who knows who may be made second only to Pharaoh over
+all Egypt? I wot well who will be our Pharaoh, if we gain our point; and
+I have done the state some service, and may yet do her more.”</p>
+
+<p>“By treachery to your comrades, I suppose,” said Hansford, disgusted
+with the conceit and self-complacency of the man.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, look ye here, Major, if I was disposed to be touchy, I might take
+exception at that remark. But I have seen too much of life to fly off at
+the first word. The axe that flies from the helve at the first stroke,
+may be sharp as a grindstone can make it, but it will never cut a tree
+down for all that.”</p>
+
+<p>“And if you were to fly off, as you call it, at the first or the last
+word,” said Hansford, haughtily, “you would only get a sound beating for
+your pains. How dare you speak thus to your superior, you insolent
+knave!”</p>
+
+<p>“No insolence, Major,” said Berkenhead, sulkily; “but for the matter of
+speaking against your honour, I have seen my betters silenced in their
+turn, by their superiors.”</p>
+
+<p>“Silence, slave!” cried Hansford, his face flushing with indignation at
+this allusion to his interview with Bacon, which he had hoped, till now,
+had been unheard by the soldiers. “But come,” he added, reflecting on
+the imprudence of losing his only friend and ally in this perilous
+adventure, “you are a saucy knave, but I suppose I must e'en bear with
+you for the present. We cannot be far from Windsor Hall, I should
+think.”</p>
+
+<p>“About two miles, as I take it, Major,” said Berkenhead, in a more
+respectful manner. “I used to live in Gloucester, not far from the hall,
+and many is the time I have followed my master through these old woods
+in a deer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> chase. Yes, there is Manteo's clearing, just two miles from
+the hall.”</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely were the words out of the speaker's mouth, when, to the
+surprise of the little party, a large dog of the St. Bernard's breed
+leaped from a thicket near them, and bounded towards Hansford.</p>
+
+<p>“Brest ef it a'ant old Nestor,” said Giles, whose tongue had at length
+been loosened by the sight of the family favourite, and he stooped down
+as he spoke to pat the dog upon the head. But Nestor's object was
+clearly not to be caressed. Frisking about in a most extraordinary
+manner, now wagging his tail, now holding it between his legs, now
+bounding a few steps in front of Hansford's horse, and anon crouching by
+his side and whining most piteously, he at length completed his
+eccentric movements by standing erect upon his hind legs and placing his
+fore feet against the breast of his old master. Struck with this
+singular conduct, Hansford, reining in his horse, cried out, “The poor
+dog must be mad. Down, Nestor, down I tell you!”</p>
+
+<p>Well was it for our hero that the faithful animal refused to obey, for
+just at that moment an arrow was heard whizzing through the air, and the
+noble dog fell transfixed through the neck with the poisoned missile,
+which else had pierced Hansford's heart.<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> The alarm caused by so
+sudden and unexpected an attack had not passed off, before another arrow
+was buried deep in our hero's shoulder. But quick as were the movements
+of the attacking party, the trained eye of Berkenhead caught a glimpse
+of the tall form of an Indian as it vanished behind a large oak tree,
+about twenty yards from where they stood. The soldier levelled his
+carbine, and as Manteo (for the reader has probably already conjectured
+that it was he) again emerged from his hiding place to renew the attack,
+he discharged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> his piece with deadly aim and effect. With a wild yell of
+horror, the young warrior sprang high in the air, and fell lifeless to
+the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Berkenhead was about to rush forward towards his victim, when Hansford,
+who still retained his seat on the horse, though faint from pain and
+loss of blood, cried out, “Caution, caution, for God's sake, there are
+more of the bloody villains about.” But after a few moments' pause, the
+apprehension of a further attack passed away, and the soldier and Giles
+repaired to the spot. And there in the cold embrace of death, lay the
+brave young Indian, his painted visage reddened yet more by the
+life-blood which still flowed from his wound. His right hand still
+grasped the bow-string, as in his last effort to discharge the fatal
+arrow. A haughty smile curled his lip even in the moment in which the
+soul had fled, as if in that last struggle his brave young heart
+despised the pang of death itself.</p>
+
+<p>Gazing at him for a moment, yet long enough for old Giles to recognize
+the features of Manteo in the bloody corpse, they returned to Hansford,
+whose condition indeed required their immediate assistance. Drawing out
+the arrow, and staunching the blood as well as they could with his
+scarf, Berkenhead bandaged it tightly, and although still in great pain,
+the wounded man was enabled slowly to continue his journey. A ride of
+about half an hour brought the little party to the door of Windsor
+Hall.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> An incident somewhat similar to this is on record as having
+actually occurred.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i10">“I'll tell thee truth—<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too oft a stranger to the royal ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But far more wholesome than the honeyed lies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fawning flatterers offer.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i14"><i>Any Port in a Storm.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>Brief as was the time which had elapsed, the old hall presented a
+different appearance to Hansford, from that which it maintained when he
+last left it under such disheartening circumstances. The notable
+mistress of the mansion had spared no pains to prepare for the reception
+of her honoured guest; and, although she took occasion to complain to
+her good husband of his inconsiderate conduct, in foisting all these
+strangers upon her at once, yet she inwardly rejoiced at the opportunity
+it presented for a display of her admirable housewifery. Indeed, the
+ease-loving old Colonel almost repented of his hospitality, amid the
+bustle and hurry, the scolding of servants, and the general bad humour
+which were all necessary incidents to the good dame's preparation.
+Having finally “brought things to something like rights,” as she
+expressed it, her next care was to provide for the entertainment of her
+distinguished guest, which to the mind of the benevolent old lady,
+consisted not in sparkling conversation, or sage counsels, (then, alas!
+much needed by the Governor,) but in spreading a table loaded with a
+superabundance of delicacies to tempt his palate, and cause him to
+forget his troubles. It was a favourite saying of hers, caught up most
+probably in her early life, during the civil war in England, that if the
+stomach was well garrisoned with food, the heart would never capitulate
+to sorrow.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>But the truth of this apothegm was not sustained in the present
+instance. Her hospitable efforts, even when united with the genial good
+humour and kindness of her husband were utterly unavailing to dispel the
+gloom which hung over the inmates of Windsor Hall. Sir William Berkeley
+was himself dejected and sad, and communicated his own dejection to all
+around him. Indeed, since his arrival at the Hall, he had found good
+reason to repent his haste in denouncing the popular and gifted young
+insurgent. The pledge made by Colonel Temple of the loyalty of the
+people of Gloucester, had not been redeemed—at least so far as an
+active support of the Governor was concerned. Berkeley's reception by
+them was cold and unpromising. The enthusiasm which he had hoped to
+inspire no where prevailed, and the old man felt himself deserted by
+those whose zealous co-operation he had been led to anticipate. It was
+true that they asserted in the strongest terms their professions of
+loyal devotion, and their willingness to quell the first symptoms of
+rebellion, but they failed to see anything in the conduct of Bacon to
+justify the harsh measures of Berkeley towards him and his followers.
+“Lip-service—lip-service,” said the old Governor, sorrowfully, as their
+decision was communicated to him, “they draw near to me with their
+mouth, and honour me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.”
+But, notwithstanding his disappointment, nothing could shake the proud
+spirit of Berkeley in his inflexible resolution, to resist any
+encroachments on his prerogative; and, so providing his few followers
+with arms from the adjacent fort on York River, he prepared to maintain
+his power and his dignity by the sword.</p>
+
+<p>Such was the state of things on the evening that Thomas Hansford and his
+companions arrived at Windsor Hall. The intelligence of their arrival
+created much excitement, and the inmates of the mansion differed greatly
+in their opinions as to the intention of the young rebel.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> Poor Mrs.
+Temple, in whose mind fear always predominated over every other feeling,
+felt assured that Hansford had come, attended by another “ruffian,”
+forcibly to abduct Virginia from her home—and a violent fit of
+hysterics was the result of her suspicions. Virginia herself,
+vacillating between hope and fear, trusted, in the simplicity of her
+young, girlish heart, that her lover had repented of his grievous error,
+and had come to claim her love, and to sue to the Governor for pardon.
+Sir William Berkeley saw in the mission of Hansford, a faint hope that
+the rebels, alarmed by his late proclamation, had determined to return
+to their allegiance, and that Hansford was the bearer of a proposition
+to this effect, imploring at the same time the clemency and pardon of
+the government, against which they had so grievously offended.</p>
+
+<p>“And they shall receive mercy, too, at my hands, “said the old knight,
+as a tear glistened in his eye. “They have learned to fear the power of
+the government, and to respect its justice, and they shall now learn to
+love its merciful clemency. God forbid, that I should chasten my
+repenting people, except as children, for their good.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not so fast, my honoured Governor,” said Philip Ludwell, who, with the
+other attendants of Berkeley, had gathered around him in the porch; “you
+may be mistaken in your opinion. I believe—I know—that your wish is
+father to the thought in this matter. But look at the resolution and
+determined bearing of that young man. Is his the face or the bearing of
+a suppliant?”</p>
+
+<p>Ludwell was right. The noble countenance of Hansford, always expressive,
+though sufficiently respectful to the presence which he was about to
+enter, indicated any thing rather than tame submission. His face was
+very pale, and his lip quivered for a moment as he approached the
+anxious crowd of loyalists, who remained standing in the porch, but it
+was at once firmly compressed by the strength of resolu<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>tion. As he
+advanced, he raised his hat and profoundly saluted the Governor, and
+then drawing himself up to his full height, he stood silently awaiting
+some one to speak. Colonel Temple halted a moment between his natural
+kindness for his friend and his respect for the presence of Sir William
+Berkeley. The first feeling prompted him to rush up to Hansford, and
+greeting him as of old, to give him a cordial welcome to the hall—but
+the latter feeling prevailed. Without advancing, then, he said in a
+tone, in which assumed displeasure strove in vain to overcome his native
+benevolence—</p>
+
+<p>“To what cause am I to attribute this unexpected visit of Mr. Hansford?”</p>
+
+<p>“My business is with Sir William Berkeley,” replied Hansford,
+respectfully, “and I presume I am not mistaken in supposing that I am
+now in his presence.”</p>
+
+<p>“And what would you have from me young man,” said Berkeley, coldly;
+“your late career has estranged you and some of your friends so entirely
+from their Governor, that I feel much honoured by this evidence of your
+returning affection.”</p>
+
+<p>“Both I and my friends, as far as I may speak for them,” returned
+Hansford, in the same calm tone, “have ever been ready and anxious to
+show our devotion to our country and its rulers, and our present career
+to which your excellency has been pleased to allude, is in confirmation
+of the fact. That we have unwittingly fallen under your displeasure,
+sir, I am painfully aware. To ascertain the cause of that displeasure is
+my reason for this intrusion.”</p>
+
+<p>“The cause, young man,” said Berkeley, “is to be found in your own
+conduct, for which, may I hope, you have come for pardon?”</p>
+
+<p>“I regret to say that you are mistaken in your conjecture,” replied
+Hansford. “As it is impossible that our conduct could have invoked your
+displeasure, so it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> equally impossible that we should sue for pardon
+for an offence which we have never committed.”</p>
+
+<p>“And, prythee, what then is your worshipful pleasure, fair sir,” said
+Berkeley, ironically; “perhaps, in the abundance of your mercy, you have
+come to grant pardon, if you do not desire it. Nay!” he exclaimed,
+seeing Hansford shake his head; “then, peradventure, you would ask me to
+abdicate my government in favour of young Cromwell. I beg pardon—young
+Bacon, I should say—the similarity of their views is so striking, that
+as my memory is but a poor one, I sometimes confound their names. Well!
+any thing in reason. Nay, again!—well then, I am at a loss to
+conjecture, and you must yourself explain the object of your visit.”</p>
+
+<p>“I would fain convey my instructions to Sir William Berkeley's private
+ear,” said Hansford, unmoved by the irony of the old knight.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh pardon me, fair sir,” said Berkeley; “yet, in this I <i>must</i> crave
+your pardon, indeed. A sovereign would never wittingly trust himself
+alone with a rebel, and neither will I, though only an obscure colonial
+Governor. There are none but loyal ears here, and I trust Mr. Hansford
+has no tidings which can offend them.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am sure,” said Hansford, in reply, “that Sir William Berkeley does
+not for a moment suspect that I desired to see him in private from any
+sinister or treasonable motive.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know, sir,” said Berkeley, angrily, “that you have proved yourself a
+traitor, and, therefore, I have the best reason for suspecting you of
+treasonable designs. But I have no time—no disposition to dally with
+you thus. Tell me, what new treason, that my old ears are yet strangers
+to, I am yet doomed to hear?”</p>
+
+<p>“My instructions are soon told,” said Hansford, repressing his
+indignation. “General Nathaniel Bacon, by virtue of your own commission,
+Commander-in-chief of the forces<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> of Virginia, desires to know, and has
+directed me to inquire, for what cause you have issued a proclamation
+declaring both him and his followers traitors to their country and
+king?”</p>
+
+<p>Berkeley stood the shock much better than Hansford expected. His face
+flushed for a moment, but only for a moment, as he replied,—</p>
+
+<p>“This is certainly an unusual demand of a rebel; but sir, as I have
+nothing to fear from an exposure of my reasons, I will reply, that
+Nathaniel Bacon is now in arms against the government of Virginia.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not unless the government of Virginia be allied with the Indians,
+against whom he is marching,” said Hansford, calmly.</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, but it is well known,” returned Berkeley, “that he has covert
+views of his own to attain, under pretext of this expedition against the
+Indians.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, then,” replied Hansford, “if they are covert from his own
+followers, proclaim them traitors with himself; or, if covert from the
+government, how can you ascertain that they are treasonable? But, above
+all, if you suspected such traitorous designs, why, by your commission,
+elevate him to a position in which he may be able to execute them with
+success?”</p>
+
+<p>“'Fore God, gentlemen, this is the most barefaced insolence that I have
+ever heard. For yourself, young man, out of your own mouth will I judge
+you, and convict you of treason; and for your preceptor—whose lessons,
+I doubt not, you repeat by rote—you may tell him that his commission is
+null and void, because obtained by force and arms.”</p>
+
+<p>“I had not expected to hear Sir William Berkeley make such an
+acknowledgment,” returned Hansford, undauntedly. “You yourself declared
+that the commission was not given from fear of threats; and even if this
+were not so, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> argument would scarce avail—for on what compulsion
+was it that your signature appears in a letter to his majesty, warmly
+approving the conduct of General Bacon, and commending him for his zeal,
+talents and patriotism?”<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a></p>
+
+<p>“Now, by my knighthood,” said Berkeley, stung by this last unanswerable
+argument, “I will not be bearded thus by an insolent, braggart boy.
+Seize him!” he cried, turning to Bernard and Ludwell, who stood nearest
+him. “He is my prisoner, and as an example to his vile confederates, he
+shall hang in half an hour, until his traitorous tongue has stopped its
+vile wagging.”</p>
+
+<p>Hansford made no attempt to escape, but, as the two men approached to
+disarm and bind him, he fixed his fine blue eyes full upon Colonel
+Temple, and said, mildly,</p>
+
+<p>“Shall this be so? Though Sir William Berkeley should fail to respect my
+position, as the bearer of a peaceable message from General Bacon, I
+trust that the rites of hospitality may not be violated, even in my
+humble person.”</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Temple was much embarrassed. Notwithstanding the recent conduct
+of Hansford had alienated him to a great degree, he still entertained a
+strong affection for his boy—nor could he willingly see him suffer a
+wrong when he had thus so confidingly trusted to his generosity. But,
+apart from his special interest in Hansford, the old Virginian had a
+religious regard for the sacred character of a guest, which he could
+never forget. And yet, his blind reverence for authority—the bigoted
+loyalty which has always made the English people so cautious in
+resistance to oppression, and which retarded indeed our own colonial
+revolution—made him unwilling to oppose his character of host to the
+authority of the Governor. He looked first at Sir William Berkeley, and
+his resolution was made; he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> turned to Hansford, and as he saw his noble
+boy standing resolutely there, without a friend to aid him, it wavered.
+The poor old gentleman was sadly perplexed, but, after a brief struggle,
+his true, generous heart conquered, and he said, turning to Sir William:</p>
+
+<p>“My honoured sir, I trust you will not let this matter proceed any
+further here. My house, my life, my all, is at the service of the king
+and of his representative; but I question how far we are warranted in
+proceeding to extremities with this youth, seeing that although he is
+rather froward and pert in his manners, he may yet mean well after all.”</p>
+
+<p>“Experience should have taught me,” replied Berkeley, coldly, for his
+evil genius was now thoroughly aroused, “not to place too much
+confidence in the loyalty of the people of Gloucester. If Colonel
+Temple's resolution to aid the crumbling power of the government has
+wavered at the sight of a malapert and rebellious boy, I had better
+relieve him of my presence, which must needs have become irksome to
+him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, Sir William,” returned Temple, reddening at the imputation, “you
+shall not take my language thus. Let the youth speak for himself; if he
+breathes a word of treason, his blood be on his own head—my hand nor
+voice shall be raised to save him. But I am unable to construe any thing
+which he has yet said as treasonable.” Then turning to Hansford, he
+added, “speak, Mr. Hansford, plainly and frankly. What was your object
+in thus coming? Were you sent by General Bacon, or did you come
+voluntarily?”</p>
+
+<p>“Both,” replied Hansford, with a full appreciation of the old man's
+unfortunate position. “It was my proposition that some officer of the
+army should wait upon the Governor, and ascertain the truth of his
+rumoured proclamation. I volunteered to discharge the duty in person.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>“And in the event of your finding it to be true,” said Berkeley,
+haughtily, “what course did you then intend to pursue?”</p>
+
+<p>This was a dangerous question; for Hansford knew that to express the
+design of the insurgents in such an event, would be little less than a
+confession of treason. But he had a bold heart, and without hesitation,
+but still maintaining his respectful manner, he replied,—</p>
+
+<p>“I might evade an answer to your question, by saying, that it would then
+be time enough to consider and determine our course. But I scorn to do
+so, even when my safety is endangered. I answer candidly then, that in
+such an event the worst consequences to the country and to yourself
+would ensue. It was to prevent these consequences, and as far as I could
+to intercede in restoring peace and quiet to our distracted colony, that
+I came to implore you to withdraw this proclamation. Otherwise, sir, the
+sword of the avenger is behind you, and within two days from this time
+you will be compelled once more to yield to a current that you cannot
+resist. Comply with my request, and peace and harmony will once more
+prevail; refuse, and let who will triumph, the unhappy colony will be
+involved in all the horrors of civil war.”</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing boastful in the manner of Hansford, as he uttered
+these words. On the contrary, his whole bearing, while it showed
+inflexible determination, attested his sincerity in the wish that the
+Governor, for the good of the country, would yield to the suggestion.
+Nor did Sir William Berkeley, in spite of his indignation, fail to see
+the force and wisdom of the views presented; but he had too much pride
+to acknowledge it to an inferior.</p>
+
+<p>“Now, by my troth,” he cried, “if this be not treason, I am at a loss to
+define the term. I should think this would satisfy even your scepticism,
+Colonel Temple; for it seems we must consult you in regard to our course
+while under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> your roof. You would scarcely consent, I trust, to a
+self-convicted traitor going at large.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course you act in the premises, according to your own judgment,”
+replied Temple, coldly, for he was justly offended at the overbearing
+manner of the incensed old Governor, “but since you have appealed to me
+for my opinion, I will e'en make bold to say, that as this young man
+came in the character of an intercessor, you might well be satisfied
+with his parole. I will myself be surety for his truth.”</p>
+
+<p>“Parole, forsooth, and do you not think I have had enough of paroles
+from these rebel scoundrels—zounds, their faith is like an egg-shell,
+it is made to be broken.”</p>
+
+<p>“With my sincere thanks to my noble friend,” said Hansford, “for his
+obliging offer, I would not accept it if I could. Unconscious of having
+done any thing to warrant this detention, I am not willing to
+acknowledge its justice, by submitting to a qualified imprisonment.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is well,” said Berkeley, haughtily; “we will see whether your pride
+is proof against an ignominious death. Disarm him and hold him in close
+custody until my farther pleasure shall be known.”</p>
+
+<p>As he said this, Hansford was disarmed, and led away under a strong
+guard to the apartment which Colonel Temple reluctantly designated as
+the place of his confinement.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime Berkenhead had remained at the gate, guarded by two of the
+soldiers of the Governor; while old Giles, with a light heart, had found
+his way back to his old stand by the kitchen door, and was detailing to
+his astonished cronies the unlucky ventures, and the providential
+deliverance, which he had experienced. But we must forbear entering into
+a detailed account of the old man's sermon, merely contenting ourselves
+with announcing, that such was the effect produced, that at the next
+baptizing day, old Elder Snivel was refreshed by a perfect pentecost of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>
+converts, who attributed their “new birf” to the wrestling of “brudder
+Giles.”</p>
+
+<p>We return to Berkenhead, who, at the command of Col. Ludwell, was
+escorted, under the guard before mentioned, into the presence of Sir
+William Berkeley. The dogged and insolent demeanour of the man was even
+more displeasing to the Governor than the quiet and resolute manner of
+Hansford, and in a loud, threatening voice, he cried,</p>
+
+<p>“Here comes another hemp-pulling knave. 'Fore God, the colony will have
+to give up the cultivation of tobacco, and engage in raising hemp, for
+we are like to have some demand for it. Hark ye, sir knave—do you know
+the nature of the message which you have aided in bearing from the
+traitor Bacon to myself?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not I, your honour—no more than my carbine knows whether it is loaded
+or not. It's little the General takes an old soldier like me into his
+counsels; but I only know it is my duty to obey, if I were sent to the
+devil with a message,” and the villain looked archly at the Governor.</p>
+
+<p>“Your language is something of the most insolent,” said Sir William.
+“But tell me instantly, did you have no conversation with Major Hansford
+on your way hither, and if so, what was it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Little else than abuse, your honour,” returned Berkenhead, “and a
+threat that I would be beat over the head if I didn't hold my tongue;
+and as I didn't care to converse at such a disadvantage, I was e'en
+content to keep my own counsel for the rest of the way.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you, or do you not, consider Bacon and his followers to be engaged
+in rebellion against the government?”</p>
+
+<p>“Rebellion, your honour!” cried the renegade. “Why, was it not your
+honour's self that sent us after these salvages? An' I thought there was
+any other design afloat, I would soon show them who was the rebel. It is
+not the first time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> that I have done the State some service by betraying
+treason.”</p>
+
+<p>“Look ye,” said the Governor, eyeing the fellow keenly, “if I mistake
+not, you are an old acquaintance. Is your name Berkenhead?”</p>
+
+<p>“The same, at your honour's service.”</p>
+
+<p>“And didn't you betray the servile plot of 1662, and get your liberty
+and a reward for it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, your honour, but I wouldn't have you think that it was for the
+reward I did it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, never mind your motives. If you are Judas, you are welcome to your
+thirty pieces of silver,” said the Governor, with a sneer of contempt.
+“But to make the analogy complete, you should be hanged for your
+service.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, faith,” said the shrewd villain, quickly. “Judas hanged himself,
+and it would be long ere ever I sought the apostle's elder tree.<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> And
+besides, his was the price of innocent blood, and mine was not. Look at
+my hand, your honour, and you will see what kind of blood I shed.”</p>
+
+<p>Berkeley looked at the fellow's hand, and saw it stained with the
+crimson life-blood of the young Indian. With a thrill of horror, he
+cried, “What blood is that, you infernal villain?”</p>
+
+<p>“Only fresh from the veins of one of these painted red-skins,” returned
+Berkenhead. “And red enough he was when I left him; but, forsooth, he
+reckons that the paint cost him full dear. He left his mark on Major
+Hansford, though, before he left.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where did this happen?” said Berkeley, astonished.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, not far from here. The red devil was a friend at the hall here,
+too, or as much so as their bloody hearts will let any of them be.
+Colonel Temple, there, knows him, and I have seen him when I lived in
+Gloucester. A fine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> looking fellow, too; and if his skin and his heart
+had been both white, there would have been few better and braver
+dare-devils than young Manteo.”</p>
+
+<p>As he pronounced the name, a wild shriek rent the air, and the
+distracted Mamalis rushed into the porch. Her long hair was all
+dishevelled and flying loosely over her shoulders, her eye was that of a
+maniac in his fury, and tossing her bare arms aloft, she shrieked, in a
+wild, harsh voice,</p>
+
+<p>“And who are you, that dare to spill the blood of kings? Look to it that
+your own flows not less freely in your veins.”</p>
+
+<p>Berkenhead turned pale with fright, and shrinking from the enraged girl,
+muttered, “the devil!”—while Temple, in a low voice, whispered to the
+Governor the necessary explanation, “She is his sister.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, his sister!” cried the girl, wildly, for she had overheard the
+words. “His only sister!—and my blood now flows in no veins but my own.
+But the stream runs more fiercely as the channel is more narrow. Look to
+it—look to it!” And, with another wild shriek, the maddened girl rushed
+again into the house. It required all the tender care of Virginia Temple
+to pacify the poor creature. She reasoned, she prayed, she endeavoured
+to console her; but her reasons, her prayers, her sweet words of
+consolation, were all lost upon the heart of the Indian maiden, who
+nourished but one fearful, fatal idea—revenge!</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> This was indeed true, and renders the conduct of Berkeley entirely
+inexplicable.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> The name given to the tree on which Judas hanged himself.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“His flight was madness.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i10"><i>Macbeth.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>Yes, Virginia! She who had so much reason for consolation herself,
+forgot her own sorrows for the time, in administering the oil of
+consolation to the poor, wounded, broken-hearted savage girl. She had
+been sitting at the window of the little parlour, where she could
+witness the whole scene, and hear the whole interview between the
+Governor and Hansford; and oh! how her heart had sunk within her as she
+heard the harsh sentence of the stern old knight, which condemned her
+noble, friendless lover to imprisonment, perhaps to death; and yet, a
+maiden modesty restrained her from yielding to the impulse of the
+moment, to throw herself at the feet of Berkeley, confess her love, and
+implore his pardon. Alas! ill-fated maiden, it would have been in
+vain—as she too truly, too fatally discovered afterwards.</p>
+
+<p>The extraordinary appearance and conduct of Mamalis broke up for the
+present any further conference with Berkenhead, who—his mendacity
+having established his innocence in the minds of the loyalists—walked
+off with a swaggering gait, rather elated than otherwise with the result
+of his interview. Alfred Bernard followed him until they turned an angle
+of the house, and stood beneath the shade of one of the broad oaks,
+which spread its protecting branches over the yard.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime the Governor, with such of his council as had attended him to
+Windsor Hall, retired to the study of the old Colonel, which had been
+fitted up both for the chamber<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> of his most distinguished guest and for
+the deliberations of the council. The subject which now engaged their
+attention was one of more importance than any that had ever come before
+them since the commencement of the dissensions in Virginia. The mission
+of Hansford, while it had failed of producing the effect which he so
+ardently desired, had, notwithstanding, made a strong impression upon
+the mind of the Governor. He saw too plainly that it would be vain to
+resist the attack of Bacon, at the head of five hundred men, among whom
+were to be ranked the very chivalry of Virginia; while his own force
+consisted merely of his faithful adherents in the council, and about
+fifty mercenary troops, whose sympathies with the insurgents were
+strongly suspected.</p>
+
+<p>“I see,” said the old man, gloomily, as he took his seat at the
+council-board, “that I must seek some other refuge. I am hunted like a
+wild beast from place to place, through a country that was once my own,
+and by those who were once the loving subjects of my king.”</p>
+
+<p>“Remain here!” said the impulsive old Temple. “The people of Gloucester
+will yet rally around your standard, when they see open treason is
+contemplated; and should they still refuse, zounds, we may yet offer
+resistance with my servants and slaves.”</p>
+
+<p>“My dear friend,” said Berkeley, sorrowfully, “if all Virginians were
+like yourself, there would have been no rebellion—there would have been
+no difficulty in suppressing one, if attempted. But alas! the loyalty of
+the people of Gloucester has already been weighed in the balance and
+found wanting. No, I have acted hastily, foolishly, blindly. I have
+warmed this serpent into life by my forbearance and indulgence, and must
+at last be the victim of its venom and my folly. Oh! that I had refused
+the commission, which armed this traitor with legal power. I have put a
+sword<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> into the hands of an enemy, and may be the first to fall by it.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is useless to repine over the past,” said Philip Ludwell, kindly;
+“but the power of these rebels cannot last long. The people who are
+loyal at heart will fall from their support, and military aid will be
+received from England ere long. Then the warmed reptile may be crushed.”</p>
+
+<p>“To my mind,” said Ballard, “it were better to repair the evil that has
+been done by retracing our steps, rather than to proceed further. When a
+man is over his depth, he had better return to the shore than to attempt
+to cross the unfathomable stream.”</p>
+
+<p>“Refrain from enigmas, if you please,” said Berkeley, coldly, “and tell
+me to what you refer.”</p>
+
+<p>“Simply,” replied Ballard, firmly, “that all this evil has resulted from
+your following the jesuitical counsel of a boy, rather than the prudent
+caution of your advisers. My honoured sir, forgive me if I say it is now
+your duty to acquiesce in the request of Major Hansford, and withdraw
+your proclamation.”</p>
+
+<p>“And succumb to traitors!” cried Berkeley. “Never while God gives me
+breath to reiterate it. He who would treat with a traitor, is himself
+but little better than a traitor.”</p>
+
+<p>The flush which mounted to the brow of Ballard attested his indignation
+at this grave charge; but before he had time to utter the retort which
+rose to his lips, Berkeley added,</p>
+
+<p>“Forgive me, Ballard, for my haste. But the bare idea of making terms
+with these audacious rebels roused my very blood. No, no! I can die in
+defence of my trust, but I cannot, will not yield it.”</p>
+
+<p>“But it is not yielding,” said Ballard.</p>
+
+<p>“Nay—no more of that,” interrupted Berkeley; “let us devise some other
+means. I have it,” he added, after a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> pause. “Accomac is still true to
+my interest, and divided from the mainland by the bay, is difficult of
+access. There will I pitch my tent, and sound my defiance—and when aid
+shall come from England, these proud and insolent traitors shall feel
+the power of my vengeance the more for this insult to my weakness.”</p>
+
+<p>This scheme met with the approbation of all present, with the exception
+of old Ballard, who shook his head, and muttered, that he hoped it might
+all be for the best. And so it was determined that early the next
+morning the loyal refugees should embark on board a vessel then lying
+off Tindal's Point, and sail for Accomac.</p>
+
+<p>“And we will celebrate our departure by hanging up that young rogue,
+Hansford, in half an hour,” said Berkeley.</p>
+
+<p>“By what law, may it please your excellency?” asked Ballard, surprised
+at this threat.</p>
+
+<p>“By martial law.”</p>
+
+<p>“And for what offence?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why zounds, Ballard, you have turned advocate-general for all the
+rebels in the country,” said Berkeley, petulantly.</p>
+
+<p>“No, Sir William, I am advocating the cause of justice and of my king.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, sir, what would you advise? To set the rogue at liberty, I
+suppose, and by our leniency to encourage treason.”</p>
+
+<p>“By no means,” said Ballard. “But either to commit him to custody until
+he may be fairly tried by a jury of his peers, or to take him with you
+to Accomac, where, by further developments of this insurrection, you may
+better judge of the nature of his offence.”</p>
+
+<p>“And a hospitable reception would await me in Accomac, forsooth, if I
+appeared there with a prisoner of war, whom I did not have the firmness
+to punish as his crime deserves. No, by heaven! I will not be encumbered
+with prisoners. His life is forfeit to the law, and as he would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> prove
+an apostle of liberty, let him be a martyr to his cause.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let me add my earnest intercession to that of Colonel Ballard,” said
+Temple, “in behalf of this unhappy man. I surely have some claim upon
+your benevolence, and I ask his life as a personal boon to me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, assuredly, since you rely upon your hospitable protection to us,
+you should have your fee,” said Berkeley, with a sneer. “But not in so
+precious a coin as a rebel's life. If you have suffered by the
+protection afforded to the deputy of your king, you shall not lack
+remuneration. But the coin shall be the head of Carolus II.;<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> this
+rebel's head I claim as my own.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, by heaven!” returned Temple, thoroughly aroused, “it requires all
+my loyalty to stomach so foul an insult. My royal master's exchequer
+could illy remunerate me for the gross language heaped upon me by his
+deputy. But let this pass. You are my guest, sir; and that I cannot
+separate the Governor from the man, I am prevented from resenting an
+insult, which else I could but little brook.”</p>
+
+<p>“As you please, mine host,” replied Berkeley. “But, in truth, I have
+wronged you, Temple. But think, my friend, of the pang the shepherd must
+feel, when he finds that he has let a wolf into his fold, which he is
+unable to resist. Oh, think of this, and bear with me!”</p>
+
+<p>Temple knew the old Governor too well to doubt the sincerity of this
+retraxit, and with a cordial grasp of the hand, he assured Berkeley of
+his forgiveness. “And yet,” he added, warmly, “I cannot forget the cause
+I advocate, for this first rebuff. Believe me, Sir William, you will
+gain nothing, but lose much, by proceeding harshly against this unhappy
+young man. In the absence of any evidence of his guilt, you will arouse
+the indignation of the colonists to such a height, that it will be
+difficult to pacify them.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>“Pardon me, Sir William Berkeley,” said Bernard, who had joined the
+party, “but would it not be well to examine this knave, Berkenhead,
+touching the movements and intentions of the insurgents, and
+particularly concerning any expressions which may have fallen from this
+young gentleman? If it shall appear that he is guiltless of the crime
+imputed to him, then you may safely yield to the solicitations of these
+gentlemen, and liberate him. But if it shall appear that he is guilty,
+they, in their turn, cannot object to his meeting the penalty which his
+treason richly deserves.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, by heaven, the young man speaks truthfully and wisely,” said
+Temple, assured, by the former interview with Berkenhead, that he knew
+of nothing which could convict the prisoner. “Nor do I see, Sir William,
+what better course you can adopt than to follow his counsel.”</p>
+
+<p>“Truly,” said Berkeley, “the young man has proven himself the very Elihu
+of counsellors. 'Great men are not always wise, neither do the aged
+understand judgment. But there is a spirit in man, and the inspiration
+of the Almighty giveth them understanding.' Yet I fear, Colonel Temple,
+you will scarcely, after my impetuosity just now, deem me a Job for
+patience, though Alfred may be an Elihu for understanding. Your counsel
+is good, young man. Let the knave be brought hither to testify, and look
+ye that the prisoner be introduced to confront him. My friends, Ballard
+and Temple, are such sticklers for law, that we must not deviate from
+Magna Charta or the Petition of Right. But stay, we will postpone this
+matter till the morrow. I had almost forgotten it was the Sabbath. Loyal
+churchmen should venerate the day, even when treason is abroad in the
+land. Meantime, let the villain Berkenhead be kept in close custody,
+lest he should escape.”</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> The coin during the reign of Charles II.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“I tell thee what, my friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is a very serpent in my way.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i16"><i>King John.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>The reader will naturally desire to know what induced the milder counsel
+recommended by Alfred Bernard to the Governor. If we have been
+successful in impressing upon the mind of the reader a just estimate of
+the character of the young jesuit, he will readily conjecture that it
+was from no kindly feeling for his rival, and no inherent love of
+justice that he suggested such a policy; and if he be of a different
+opinion, he need only go back with us to the interview between Bernard
+and Berkenhead, to which allusion was made in the chapter immediately
+preceding the last.</p>
+
+<p>We have said that Alfred Bernard followed the renegade rebel until they
+stood together beneath a large oak tree which stood at the corner of the
+house. Here they stopped as if by mutual, though tacit consent, and
+Berkenhead turning sharply around upon his companion, said in an
+offended tone—“What is your further will with me sir?”</p>
+
+<p>“You seem not to like your comrade Major Hansford?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh well enough,” replied Berkenhead; “there are many better and many
+worse than him. But I don't see how the likes and the dislikes of a poor
+soldier can have any concernment with you.”</p>
+
+<p>“I assure you,” said Bernard, “it is from no impertinent curiosity, but
+a real desire to befriend you, that I ask the question. The Governor
+strongly suspects your integrity, and that you are concealing from him
+more than it suits<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> you to divulge. Now, I would do you a service and
+advise you how you may reinstate yourself in his favour.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, that seems kind on the outside,” said the soldier, “seeing as you
+seems to be one of the blooded gentry, and I am nothing but a plain
+Dunstable.<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> But rough iron is as soft as polished steel.”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe you,” said Bernard. “Now you have not much reason to waste
+your love on this Major Hansford. He threatened to beat you, as you say,
+and a freeborn Englishman does not bear an insult like that with
+impunity.”</p>
+
+
+<p>“No, your honour,” replied the man, “and I've known the day when a
+Plymouth cloak<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> would protect me from insult as well as a frieze coat
+from cold. But I am too old for that now, and so I had better swallow an
+insult dry, than butter it with my own marrow.”</p>
+
+<p>“And are there not other modes of revenge than by a blow? Where are your
+wits, man? What makes the man stronger than the horse that carries him?
+I tell you, a keen wit is to physical force what your carbine is to the
+tomahawk of these red-skins. It fires at a distance.”</p>
+
+<p>The old soldier looked up with a gleam of intelligence, and Bernard
+continued—</p>
+
+<p>“Bethink you, did you hear nothing from Hansford by which you might
+infer that his ultimate design was to overturn the government?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why I can't exactly say that I did,” returned the fellow. “To be sure
+they all prate about liberty and the like, but I reckon that is an
+Englishman's privilege, providing he takes it out in talking. But there
+may be fire in the bed-straw for all my ignorance.”<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a></p>
+
+<p>“Well, I am sorry for you,” said Bernard, “for if you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> could only
+remember any thing to convict this young rebel, I would warrant you a
+free pardon and a sound neck.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, now, as I come to think of it,” said the unscrupulous renegade,
+“there might be some few things he let drop, not much in themselves, but
+taken together, as might weave a right strong tow; and zounds, I don't
+think a man can be far wrong to untwist the rope about his own neck by
+tying it to another. For concerning of life, your honour, while I have
+no great care to risk it in battle, I don't crave to choke it out with
+one of these hemp cravats. And so being as I have already done the state
+some service, I feel it my duty to save her if I can.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, thanks to that catch-word of the rogue,” muttered Bernard, “I am
+like to have easy work to-night. Hark ye, Mr. Berkenhead,” he added,
+aloud, “I think it is likely that the Governor may wish to ask you a
+question or two touching this matter of which we have been speaking. In
+the meantime here is something which may help you to get along with
+these soldiers,” and he placed a sovereign in the fellow's hand.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank your honour,” said Berkenhead, humbly, “and seeing its not in the
+way of bribe, I suppose I may take it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no bribe,” replied Bernard, smiling, “but mark me, tell a good
+story. The stronger your evidence the safer is your head.”</p>
+
+<p>Bernard returned, as we have seen, to the Governor, for the further
+development of his diabolical designs, and in a short time Berkenhead,
+under a guard of soldiers, was conducted to his quarters for the night,
+in a store-house which stood in the yard some distance from the house.</p>
+
+<p>As the house to which the renegade insurgent was consigned was deemed
+sufficiently secure, and the soldiers wearied with a long march, were
+again to proceed on their journey on the morrow, it was not considered
+necessary to place a guard before the door of this temporary cell—the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>
+precaution, however, being taken to appoint a sentry at each side of the
+mansion-house, and at the door of the apartment in which the unhappy
+Hansford was confined.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> An old English expression for a rough, honest fellow.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> A bludgeon.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> There may be danger in the design.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Ha! sure he sleeps—all's dark within save what<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lamp, that feebly lifts a sickly flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By fits reveals. His face seems turned to favour<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The attempt. I'll steal and do it unperceived.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i24"><i>Mourning Bride.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>All were wrapt in silence and in slumber, save the weary sentinels, who
+paced drowsily up and down before the door of the house, humming in a
+low tone the popular Lillibullero, or silently communing with their
+brother sentry in the sky. The family, providing for the fatigues of the
+following day, had early retired to rest, and even Virginia, worn down
+by excitement and agitation, having been assured by her father of the
+certain safety of Hansford, had yielded to the restoring influences of
+sleep. How little did the artless girl, or her unsuspicious father,
+suppose that beneath their roof they had been cherishing a demon, who,
+by his wily machinations, was weaving a web around his innocent victim,
+cruel and inextricable.</p>
+
+<p>We have said that all save the watchful sentinels were sleeping; but one
+there was from whose eyes and from whose heart revenge had driven sleep.
+Mamalis—the poor, hapless Mamalis—whose sorrows had been forgotten in
+the general excitement which had prevailed—Mamalis knew but one
+thought, and that was no dream. Her brother,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> the pride and refuge of
+her maiden heart, lay stiff and murdered by the way-side—his death
+unwept, his dirge unsung, his brilliant hopes of fame cut off ere they
+had fully budded. And his murderer was near her! Could she hesitate? Had
+she not been taught, in her simple faith, that the blood of the victim
+requires the blood of his destroyer? The voice of her brother's blood
+called to her from the ground. Nor did it call in vain. It is true, he
+had been harsh, nay sometimes even cruel to her, but when was woman's
+heart, when moved to softness, ever mindful of the wrongs she had
+endured? Ask yourself, when standing by the lifeless corse of one whom
+you have dearly loved, if then you can remember aught but kindness, and
+love, and happiness, in your association with the loved one. One gentle
+word, one sweet smile, one generous action, though almost faded from the
+memory before, obscures forever all the recollection of wrongs inflicted
+and injuries endured.</p>
+
+<p>She was in the room occupied by Virginia Temple. Oh, what a contrast
+between the two! Yes, there they were—Revenge and Innocence! The one
+lay pure and beautiful in sleep; her round, white arm thrown back upon
+the pillow, to form a more snowy resting place for her lovely cheek.
+From beneath her cap some tresses had escaped, which, happy in release,
+were sporting in the soft air that wooed them through the open window.
+Her face, at other times too spiritually pale, was now slightly flushed
+by the sultry warmth of the night. A smile of peaceful happiness played
+around her lips, as she dreamed, perhaps, of some wild flower ramble
+which in happier days she had had with Hansford. Her snowy bosom, which
+in her restlessness she had nearly bared, was white and swelling as a
+wave which plays in the calm moonlight. Such was the beautiful being who
+lay sleeping calmly in the arms of Innocence, while the dark, but not
+less striking, form of the Indian girl bent over, to discover if she
+slept. She was dressed as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> we have before described, with the short
+deer-skin smock, extending to her knees, and fitted closely round the
+waist with a belt of wampum. Her long black hair was bound by a simple
+riband, and fell thickly over her shoulders in dark profusion. In her
+left hand she held a lamp, and it was fearful to mark, by its faint,
+glimmering light, the intense earnestness of her countenance. There were
+some traces of tears upon her cheek, but these were nearly dried. Her
+bright black eyes were lighted by a strange, unnatural fire, which they
+never knew before. It seemed as though you might see them in the dark.
+In her right hand she held a small dagger, which <i>he</i> had given her as a
+pledge of a brother's love. Fit instrument to avenge a brother's death!</p>
+
+<p>She seemed to be listening and watching to hear or see the slightest
+movement from the slumbering maiden. But all was still!</p>
+
+<p>“I slept not thus,” she murmured, “the night I heard him vow his
+vengeance against your father. Before the birds had sung their morning
+song I came to warn you. Now all I loved, my country, my friends, my
+brother, have gone forever, and none shares the tears of the Indian
+maiden.”</p>
+
+<p>She turned away with a sigh from the bedside of Virginia, and carefully
+replaced the dagger in her belt. She then took a key which was lying on
+the table and clutched it with an air of triumph. That key she had
+stolen from the pocket of Alfred Bernard while he slept—for what will
+not revenge, and woman's revenge, dare to do. Then taking up a water
+pitcher, and extinguishing the light, she softly left the room.</p>
+
+<p>As she endeavoured to pass the outer door she was accosted by the hoarse
+voice of the sentinel—“Who comes there?” he cried.</p>
+
+<p>“A friend,” she answered, timidly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>“You cannot pass, friend, without a permit from the Governor. Them's his
+orders.”</p>
+
+<p>“I go to bring some water for the sick maiden,” she said earnestly,
+showing him the pitcher. “She is far from well. Let her not suffer for a
+draught of water.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said the pliant soldier, yielding; “you are a good pleader,
+pretty one. That dark face of yours looks devilish well by moonlight.
+What say you; if I let you pass, will you come and sit with me when you
+get back? It's damned lonesome out here by myself.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will do any thing you wish when I return,” said the girl.</p>
+
+<p>“Easily won, by Wenus,” said the gallant soldier, as he permitted
+Mamalis to pass on her supposed errand.</p>
+
+<p>Freed from this obstruction, she glided rapidly through the yard, and
+soon stood before the door of the small house which she had learned was
+appropriated as the prison of Berkenhead. Turning the key softly in the
+lock, she pulled the latch-string and gently opened the door. A flood of
+moonlight streamed upon the floor, encumbered with a variety of
+plantation utensils. By the aid of this light Mamalis soon recognized
+the form and features of the fated Berkenhead, who was sleeping in one
+corner of the room. She knelt over him and feasted her eyes with the
+anticipation of her deep revenge. Fearing to be defeated in her design,
+for with her it was the foiled attempt and “not the act which might
+confound,” she bared his bosom and sought his heart. The motion startled
+the sleeping soldier. “The devil,” he said, half opening his eyes; “its
+damned light.” Just as he pronounced the last word the fatal dagger of
+Mamalis found its way into his heart. “It is all dark now,” she said,
+bitterly, and rising from her victim, she glided through the door and
+left him with his God.</p>
+
+<p>With the native shrewdness of her race, Mamalis did not forget that she
+had still to play a part, and so without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> returning directly to the
+house, she repaired to the well and filled her pitcher. She even offered
+the sentinel a drink as she repassed him on her return, and promising
+once more to come back, when she had carried the water to the “sick
+maiden,” she stole quietly into the room occupied by Bernard, replaced
+the key in his pocket as before, and hastened up stairs again.</p>
+
+<p>And there seated once more by the bedside of the sleeping Virginia, the
+young Indian girl sang, in a low voice, at once her song of triumph and
+her brother's dirge, in that rich oriental improvisation for which the
+Indians were so remarkable. We will not pretend to give in the original
+words of this beautiful requiem, but furnish the reader, in default of a
+better, with the following free translation, which may give some faint
+idea of its beauty:—</p>
+
+<p>“They have plucked the flower from the garden of my heart, and have torn
+the soil where it tenderly grew. He was bright and beautiful as the
+bounding deer, and the shaft from his bow was as true as his unchanging
+soul! Rest with the Great Spirit, soul of my brother!</p>
+
+<p>“The Great Spirit looked down in pity on my brother; Manitou has
+snatched him from the hands of the dreadful Okee. On the shores of the
+spirit-land, with the warriors of his tribe he sings the song of his
+glory, and chases the spirit deer over the immaterial plains! Rest with
+the Great Spirit, soul of my brother!</p>
+
+<p>“But I, his sister, am left lonely and desolate; the hearth-stone of
+Mamalis is deserted. Yet has my hand sought revenge for his murder, and
+my bosom exults over the destruction of his destroyer! Rest with the
+Great Spirit, soul of my brother!</p>
+
+<p>“Rest with the Great Spirit, soul of Manteo, till Mamalis shall come to
+enjoy thy embraces. Then welcome to thy spirit home the sister of thy
+youth, and reward with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> thy love the avenger of thy death! Rest with the
+Great Spirit, soul of my brother!”</p>
+
+<p>As her melancholy requiem died away, Mamalis rose silently from the
+seat, and bent once more over the form of the sleeping Virginia. As she
+felt the warm breath of the pure young girl upon her cheek, and watched
+the regular beating of her heart, and then contrasted the purity of the
+sleeping maiden with her own wild, guilty nature, she started back in
+horror. For the first time she felt remorse at the commission of her
+crime, and with a heavy sigh she hurriedly left the room, as though it
+were corrupted by her presence.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“And smile, and smile, and smile, and be a villain.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>King John.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>Great was the horror of the loyalists, on the following morning, at the
+discovery of the horrible crime which had been perpetrated; but still
+greater was the mystery as to who was the guilty party. There was no
+mode of getting admittance to the house in which Berkenhead was
+confined, except through the door, the key of which was in the
+possession of Alfred Bernard. Even if the position and standing of this
+young man had not repelled the idea that he was cognizant of the crime,
+his own unfeigned surprise at the discovery, and the absence of any
+motive for its commission, acquitted him in the minds of all. And yet,
+if this hypothesis was avoided, it was impossible to form any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> rational
+theory on the subject. There were but two persons connected with the
+establishment who could be presumed to have any plausible motive for
+murdering Berkenhead. Hansford might indeed be suspected of a desire to
+suppress evidence which would be dangerous to his own safety, but then
+Hansford was himself in close confinement. Mamalis, too, had manifested
+a spirit, the evening before, towards the unhappy man, which might very
+naturally subject her to suspicion; but, besides that, she played her
+part of surprise to perfection—it could not be conceived how she had
+gotten possession of the key of the room. The sentinel might indeed have
+thrown much light upon the subject, but he kept his own counsel for fear
+of the consequences of disobedience to orders; and he boldly asserted
+that no one had left the house during the night. This evidence, taken in
+connection with the fact that the young girl was found sleeping, as
+usual, in the little room adjoining Virginia's chamber, entirely
+exculpated her from any participation in the crime. Nothing then was
+left for it, but to suppose that the unhappy man, in a fit of
+desperation, had himself put a period to his existence. A little
+investigation might have easily satisfied them that such an hypothesis
+was as groundless as the rest; for it was afterwards ascertained by
+Colonel Temple, after a strict search, that no weapon was found on or
+near the body, nor in the apartment where it lay. But Sir William
+Berkeley, anxious to proceed upon his way to Accomac, and caring but
+little, perhaps, for the fate of a rebel, whose life was probably
+shortened but a few hours, gave the affair a very hurried and summary
+examination. Bernard, with his quick sagacity, discovered, or at least
+shrewdly suspected, the truth, and Mamalis felt, as he fixed his dark
+eyes upon her, that he had read the mystery of her heart. But, for his
+own reasons, the villain for the present maintained the strictest
+silence on the subject.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>But this catastrophe, so fatal to Berkenhead, was fortunate for young
+Hansford. The Governor, more true to his word to loyalists than he had
+hitherto been to the insurgents, released our hero from imprisonment, in
+the absence of any testimony against him. And, to the infinite chagrin
+of Alfred Bernard, his rival, once more at liberty, was again, in the
+language of the treacherous Plantagenet, “a very serpent in his way.” He
+had too surely discovered, that so long as Hansford lived, the heart of
+Virginia Temple, or what he valued far more, her hand, could never be
+given to another; and yet he felt, that if he were out of the way, and
+that heart, though widowed, free to choose again, the emotions of
+mistaken gratitude would prompt her to listen with favour to his suit.
+With all his faults, too, and with his mercenary motives, Bernard was
+not without a feeling, resembling love, for Virginia. We are told that
+there are fruits and flowers which, though poisonous in their native
+soil, when transplanted and cherished under more genial circumstances,
+become at once fair to the eye and wholesome to the taste. It is thus
+with love. In the wild, sterile heart of Alfred Bernard it had taken
+root, and poisoned all his nature; but yet it was the same emotion which
+shed a genial influence over the manly heart of Hansford. If it had been
+otherwise, there were some as fair, and many far more wealthy, in his
+adopted colony, than Virginia Temple. But she was at once adapted to his
+interests, his passions, and his intellect. She could aid his vaulting
+ambition by sharing with him her wealth; she could control, by the
+strength of her character, and the sweetness of her disposition, his own
+wild nature; and she could be the instructive and congenial companion of
+his intellect. And all this rich treasure might be his but for the
+existence, the rivalry of the hated Hansford. Still his ardent nature
+led him to hope. With all his heart he would engage in quelling the
+rebellion, which he foresaw was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> about to burst upon the colony; and
+then revenge, the sweetest morsel to the jealous mind, was his.
+Meantime, he must look the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it;
+and curbing his own feelings, must, under pretence of friendship and
+interest for a rival, continue to plot his ruin. Alfred Bernard was
+equal to the task.</p>
+
+<p>It was with these feelings that he sought Virginia Temple on the eve of
+his departure from Windsor Hall. The young girl was seated, with her
+lover, on a rude, rustic bench, beneath the large oak where Bernard had,
+the evening before, had an interview with the unfortunate Berkenhead. As
+he approached, she rose, and with her usual winning frankness of manner,
+she extended her hand.</p>
+
+<p>“Come, Mr. Bernard,” she said, “I have determined that you and Major
+Hansford shall be friends.”</p>
+
+<p>“Most willingly, on my part,” said the smooth-tongued Bernard. “And I
+think I have given the best evidence of my disposition to be so, by
+aiding feebly in restoring to Miss Temple an old friend, when she must
+now so soon part with her more recent acquaintance.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am happy to think,” said Hansford, whose candour prevented him from
+suppressing entirely the coldness of his manner, “that I am indebted to
+Mr. Bernard for any interest he may have taken in my behalf. I hope,
+sir, you will now add to the obligation under which I at present rest to
+you, by apprising me in what manner you have so greatly obliged me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, you must be aware,” replied Bernard, “that your present freedom
+from restraint is due to my interposition with Sir William Berkeley.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh yes, indeed,” interposed Virginia, “for I heard my father say that
+it was Mr. Bernard's wise suggestion, adopted by the Governor, which
+secured your release.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hardly so,” returned Hansford, “even if such were his disposition. But,
+if I am rightly informed, your assistance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> only extended to a very
+natural request, that I should not be judged guilty so long as there was
+no evidence to convict me. If I am indebted to Mr. Bernard for
+impressing upon the mind of the Governor a principle of law as old, I
+believe, as Magna Charta, I must e'en render him the thanks which are
+justly his due, and which he seems so anxious to demand.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Hansford,” said Virginia, “why will you persist in being so
+obstinate? Is it such a hard thing, after all, for one brave man to owe
+his life to another, or for an innocent man to receive justice at the
+hands of a generous one? And at least, I should think, she added, with
+the least possible pout, “that, when I ask as a favour that you should
+be friends, you should not refuse me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed, Miss Virginia,” said Alfred Bernard, without evincing the
+slightest mark of displeasure; “you urge this reconciliation too far. If
+Major Hansford have some secret cause of enmity or distrust towards me,
+of which I am ignorant, I beg that you will not force him to express a
+sentiment which his heart does not entertain. And as for his gratitude,
+which he seems to think that I demand, I assure you, that for any
+service which I may have done him, I am sufficiently compensated by my
+own consciousness of rectitude of purpose, and nobly rewarded by
+securing your approving smile.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nobly, generously said, Mr. Bernard,” replied Virginia, “and now I have
+indeed mistaken Mr. Hansford's character if he fail to make atonement
+for his backwardness, by a full, free, and cordial reconciliation.”</p>
+
+<p>“I must needs give you my left hand, then,” said Hansford, extending his
+hand with as much cordiality as he could assume; “my right arm is
+disabled as you perceive, by a wound inflicted by one of the enemies of
+my country, against whom it would seem it is treason to battle.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, if you go into that hateful subject again,” said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> Virginia, “I
+fear there is not much cordiality in your heart yet.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! you are mistaken, Miss Temple,” said Bernard, gaily; “you must
+remember the old adage, that the left is nearest to the heart. Believe
+me, Major Hansford and myself will be good friends yet, and when we
+hereafter shall speak of our former estrangement, it will only be to
+remember by whose gentle influence we were reconciled. But permit me to
+hope, Major, that your wound is not serious.”</p>
+
+<p>“A mere trifle, I believe, sir,” returned Hansford, “but I am afraid I
+will suffer some inconvenience from it for some time, as it is the sword
+arm; and in these troublous times it may fail me, when it should be
+prepared to defend.”</p>
+
+<p>“An that were the only use to which you would apply it,” said Virginia,
+half laughing, and half in earnest, “I would sincerely hope that it
+might never heal.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh fear not but that it will soon heal,” said Bernard. “The most
+dangerous wounds are inflicted here,” laying his hand upon his heart; “a
+wound dealt not by a savage, but by an angel; not from the arrow of the
+ambushed Indian, but from the quiver of the mischievous little blind
+boy—and the more fatal, because we insanely delight to inflame the
+wound instead of seeking to cure it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well really, Mr. Bernard,” said Virginia, rallying the gay young
+euphuist, “the flowers of gallantry which you have brought from Windsor
+Court, thanks to your fostering care, flourish quite as sweetly in this
+wilderness of Windsor Hall. Take pity on an illiterate colonial girl,
+and tell me whether this is the language of Waller, Cowley or Dryden?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is the language of the heart, Miss Temple, on the present occasion
+at least,” said Bernard, gravely; “for I am admonished that it is time I
+should say farewell. Without flowers or poetry, Miss Virginia, I bid you
+adieu. May you be happy, and derive from your asso<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>ciation with others
+that high enjoyment which you are so capable of bestowing. Farewell,
+Major Hansford, we may meet again, I trust, when it will not be
+necessary to invoke the interposition of a fair mediator to effect a
+reconciliation.”</p>
+
+<p>Hansford well understood the innuendo contained in the last words of
+Bernard, but taking the well-timed hint, refrained from expressing it
+more clearly, and gave his hand to his rival with every appearance of
+cordiality. And Virginia, misconstruing the words of the young jesuit,
+frankly extended her own hand, which he pressed respectfully to his
+lips, and then turned silently away.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I am delighted,” said Virginia to her lover, when they were thus
+left alone, “that you are at last friends with Bernard. You see now that
+I was right and you were wrong in our estimates of his character.”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed I do not, my dear Virginia; on the contrary, this brief
+interview has but confirmed my previously formed opinion.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! that is impossible, Hansford; you are too suspicious, indeed you
+are. I never saw more refinement and delicacy blended with more real
+candour. Indeed, Hansford, he is a noble fellow.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am sorry to differ with you, dearest; but to my mind his refinement
+is naught but Jesuitical craft; his delicacy the result of an
+educational schooling of the lip, to conceal the real feelings of his
+heart; and his candour but the gilt washing which appears like gold, but
+after all, only hides the baser metal beneath it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, in my life I never heard such perversion! Really, Hansford, you
+will make me think you are jealous.”</p>
+
+<p>“Jealous, Virginia, jealous!” said Hansford, in a sorrowful tone. “Alas!
+if I were even capable of such a feeling, what right have I to entertain
+it? Your heart is free, and torn from the soil which once cherished it,
+may be trans<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>planted elsewhere, while the poor earth where once it grew
+can only hope now and then to feel the fragrance which it sheds on all
+around. No, not jealous, Virginia, whatever else I may be!”</p>
+
+<p>“You speak too bitterly, Hansford; have I not assured you that though a
+harsh fate may sever us; though parental authority may deny you my hand,
+yet my heart is unalterably yours. But tell me, why it is that you can
+see nothing good in this young man, and persist in perverting every
+sentiment, every look, every expression to his injury?”</p>
+
+<p>Before Hansford could reply, the shrill voice of Mrs. Temple was heard,
+crying out; “Virginia Temple, Virginia Temple, why where can the child
+have got to!”—and at the same moment the old lady came bustling round
+the house, and discovered the unlawful interview of the lovers.</p>
+
+<p>Rising hastily from her seat, Virginia advanced to her mother, who,
+without giving her time to speak, even had she been so inclined, sang
+out at the top of her voice—“Come along, my daughter. Here are the
+guests in your father's house kept waiting in the porch to tell you
+good-bye, and you, forsooth, must be talking, the Lord knows what, to
+that young scape-gallows yonder, who hasn't modesty enough to know when
+and where he's wanted.”</p>
+
+<p>“Dear mother, don't speak so loud,” whispered the poor girl.</p>
+
+<p>“Don't talk so loud, forsooth—and why? They that put themselves where
+they are not wanted and not asked, must expect to hear ill of
+themselves.”</p>
+
+<p>“There comes my pretty Jeanie,” said her old father, as he saw her
+approach. “And so you found her at last, mother. Come here, dearest, we
+have been waiting for you.”</p>
+
+<p>The sweet tones of that gentle voice, which however harsh at times to
+others, were ever modulated to the sweetest music when he spoke to her,
+fell upon the ears of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> poor confused and mortified girl, in such
+comforting accents, that the full heart could no longer restrain its
+gushing feelings, and she burst into tears. With swollen eyes and with a
+heavy heart she bade adieu to the several guests, and as Sir William
+Berkeley, in the mistaken kindness of his heart, kissed her cheek, and
+whispered that Bernard would soon return and all would be happy again,
+she sobbed as if her gentle heart would break.</p>
+
+<p>“I always tell the Colonel that he ruins the child,” said Mrs. Temple to
+the Governor, with one of her blandest smiles, on seeing this renewed
+exhibition of sensibility. “It was not so in our day, Lady Frances; we
+had other things to think about than crying and weeping. Tears were not
+so shallow then.”</p>
+
+<p>Lady Frances Berkeley nodded a stately acquiescence to this tribute to
+the stoicism of the past, and made some sage, original and relevant
+reflection, that shallow streams ever were the most noisy—and then
+kissing the weeping girl, repeated the grateful assurance that Bernard
+would not be long absent, and that she herself would be present at the
+happy bridal, to taste the bride's cake and quaff the knitting cup,<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a>
+with other like consolations well calculated to restore tranquillity and
+happiness to the bosom of the disconsolate Virginia.</p>
+
+<p>And so the unfortunate Berkeley commenced that fatal flight, which
+contributed so largely to divert the arms of the insurgents from the
+Indians to the government, and to change what else might have been a
+mere unauthorized attack upon the common enemies of the country into a
+protracted and bloody civil war.</p>
+
+<p>Hansford did not long remain at Windsor Hall, after the departure of the
+loyalists. He would indeed have been wanting in astuteness if he had not
+inferred from the direct<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> language of Mrs. Temple that he was an
+unwelcome visitant at the mansion. But more important, if not more
+cogent reasons urged his immediate departure. He saw at a glance the
+fatal error committed by Berkeley in his flight to Accomac, and the
+immense advantage it would be to the insurgents. He wished, therefore,
+without loss of time to communicate the welcome intelligence to Bacon
+and his followers, who, he knew, were anxiously awaiting the result of
+his mission.</p>
+
+<p>Ordering his horse, he bade a cordial adieu to the good old colonel,
+who, as he shook his hand, said, with a tear in his eye, “Oh, my boy, my
+boy! if your head were as near right as I believe your heart is, how I
+would love to welcome you to my bosom as my son.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope, my kind, my noble friend,” said Hansford, “that the day may yet
+come when you will see that I am not wholly wrong. God knows I would
+almost rather err with you than to be right with any other man.” Then
+bidding a kind farewell to Mrs. Temple and Virginia, to which the old
+lady responded with due civility, but without cordiality, he vaulted
+into the saddle and rode off—and as long as the house was still in
+view, he could see the white 'kerchief of Virginia from the open window,
+waving a last fond adieu to her unhappy lover.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> A cup drunk at the marriage ceremony in honour of the bride.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“The abstract and brief chronicle of the time.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i36"><i>Hamlet.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>It is not our purpose to trouble the reader with a detailed account of
+all the proceedings of the famous Rebellion, which forms the basis of
+our story. We, therefore, pass rapidly over the stirring incidents which
+immediately succeeded the flight of Sir William Berkeley. Interesting as
+these incidents may be to the antiquary or historian, they have but
+little to do with the dramatis personæ of this faithful narrative, in
+whose fate we trust our readers are somewhat interested. Accomac is
+divided from the mainland of Virginia by the broad Chesapeake Bay.
+Although contained in the same grant which prescribed the limits to the
+colony, and although now considered a part of this ancient commonwealth,
+there is good reason to believe that formerly it was considered in a
+different light. In one of the earliest colonial state papers which has
+been preserved, the petition of Morryson, Ludwell &amp; Smith, for a
+reformed charter for the colony, the petitioners are styled the “agents
+for the governor, council and burgesses of the country of Virginia <i>and
+territory of Accomac</i>;” and although this form of phraseology appears in
+but few of the records, yet it would appear that the omission was the
+result of mere convenience in style, just as Victoria is more frequently
+styled the Queen of England, than called by her more formal title of
+Queen of the United Kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland, by the Grace
+of God, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>Defender of the Faith. It was, therefore, not without reason,
+that Nathaniel Bacon, glad at least of a pretext for advancing his
+designs, should have considered the flight of Sir William Berkeley to
+Accomac as a virtual abdication of his authority, more especially as it
+had been ordained but two years before by the council at Whitehall, that
+the governor should be actually a resident of Virginia, unless when
+summoned by the King to England or elsewhere. At least it was a
+sufficient pretext for the young insurgent, who, in the furtherance of
+his designs did not seem to be over-scrupulous in regard to the powers
+with which he was clothed. But twelve years afterwards a similar pretext
+afforded by the abdication of James the Second, relieved the British
+government of one of the most serious difficulties which has arisen in
+her constitutional history.</p>
+
+<p>Without proceeding on his expedition against the Indians, Bacon had no
+sooner heard of the abdication of the governor than he retired to the
+Middle Plantation, the site of the present venerable city of
+Williamsburg. Here, summoning a convention of the most prominent
+citizens from all parts of the colony, he declared the government
+vacated by the voluntary abdication of Berkeley, and in his own name,
+and the name of four members of the council, proceeded to issue writs
+for a meeting of the Assembly. It is but just to the memory of this
+great man to say, that this Assembly, convened by his will, and acting,
+as may well be conceived, almost exclusively under his dictation, has
+left upon our statute books laws “the most wholesome and good,” for the
+benefit of the colony, and the most conducive to the advancement of
+rational liberty. The rights of property remained inviolate—the reforms
+were moderate and judicious, and the government of the colony proceeded
+as quietly and calmly after the accomplishment of the revolution, as
+though Sir William Berkeley were still seated in his palace as the
+executive magistrate of Virginia. A useful lesson did this young
+colonial rebel teach to modern<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> reformers who would defame his name—the
+lesson that reform does not necessarily imply total change, and that
+there is nothing with which it is more dangerous to tamper than long
+established usage. The worst of all quacks are those who would
+administer their sovereign nostrums to the constitution of their
+country.</p>
+
+<p>The reader of history need not be reminded that the expedition of Bland
+and Carver, designed to surprise Sir William Berkeley in his new
+retreat, was completely frustrated by the treachery of Larimore, and its
+unfortunate projectors met, at the hands of the stern old Governor, a
+traitor's doom. Thus the drooping hopes of the loyalists were again
+revived, and taking advantage of this happy change in the condition of
+affairs, Berkeley with his little band of faithful adherents returned by
+sea to Jamestown, and fortified the place to the best of their ability
+against the attacks of the rebels.</p>
+
+<p>Nor were the insurgents unwilling to furnish them an opportunity for a
+contest. The battle of Bloody Run is memorable in the annals of the
+colony as having forever annihilated the Indian power in Eastern
+Virginia. Like the characters in Bunyan's sublime vision, this unhappy
+race, so long a thorn in the side of the colonists, had passed away, and
+“they saw their faces no more.” But his very triumph over the savage
+enemies of his country, well nigh proved the ruin of the young
+insurgent. Many of his followers, who had joined him with a bona fide
+design of extirpating the Indian power, now laid down their arms, and
+retired quietly to their several homes. Bacon was thus left with only
+about two hundred adherents, to prosecute the civil war which the harsh
+and dissembling policy of Berkeley had invoked; while the Governor was
+surrounded by more than three times that number, with the entire navy of
+Virginia at his command, and, moreover, secure behind the fortifications
+of Jamestown. Yet did not the brave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> young hero shrink from the contest.
+Though reduced in numbers, those that remained were in themselves a
+host. They were all men of more expanded views, and more exalted
+conceptions of liberty, than many of the medley crew who had before
+attended him. They fought in a holier cause than when arrayed against
+the despised force of their savage foes, and, moreover, they fought in
+self-defence. For, too proud and generous to desert their leader in his
+hour of peril, each of his adherents lay under the proscriptive ban of
+the revengeful Governor, as a rebel and a traitor. No sooner, therefore,
+did Bacon hear of the return of Berkeley to Jamestown, than, with hasty
+marches, he proceeded to invest the place. It is here, then, that we
+resume the thread of our broken narrative.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i10">“When Liberty rallies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Once more in thy regions, remember me then.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Byron.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>It was on a calm, clear morning in the latter part of the month of
+September, that the little army of Nathaniel Bacon, wearied and worn
+with protracted marches, and with hard fought battles, might be seen
+winding through the woodland district to the north of Jamestown. The two
+cavaliers, who led the way a little distance ahead of the main body of
+the insurgents, were Bacon and his favourite comrade, Hansford—engaged,
+as before, in an animated, but now a more earnest conversation. The brow
+of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> young hero was more overcast with care and reflection than when
+we last saw him. The game, which he had fondly hoped was over, had yet
+to be played, and the stake that remained was far more serious than any
+which had yet been risked. During the brief interval that his undisputed
+power existed, the colony had flourished and improved, and the bright
+dream which he had of her approaching delivery from bondage, seemed
+about to be realized. And now it was sad and disheartening to think that
+the battle must again be fought, and with such odds against him, that
+the chances of success were far more remote than ever. But Bacon was not
+the man to reveal his feelings, and he imparted to others the
+cheerfulness which he failed to feel himself. From time to time he would
+ride along the broken ranks, revive their drooping spirits, inspire them
+with new courage, and impart fresh ardor into their breasts for the
+glorious cause in which they were engaged. Then rejoining Hansford, he
+would express to him the fears and apprehensions which he had so
+studiously concealed from the rest.</p>
+
+<p>It was on one of these occasions, after deploring the infatuated
+devotion of so many of the colonists to the cause of blind loyalty, and
+the desertion of so many on whom he had relied to co-operate in his
+enterprize, that he said, bitterly:</p>
+
+<p>“I fear sometimes, my friend, that we have been too premature in our
+struggle for liberty. Virginia is not yet ready to be free. Her people
+still hug the chains which enslave them.”</p>
+
+<p>“Alas!” said Hansford, “it is too true that we cannot endue the infant
+in swaddling bands with the pride and strength of a giant. The child who
+learns to walk must meet with many a fall, and the nation that aspires
+to freedom will often be checked by disaster and threatened with ruin.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>“And this it is,” said Bacon, sorrowfully, “that makes me sick at heart.
+Each struggle to be free sinks the chain of the captive deeper into his
+flesh. And should we fail now, my friend, we but tighten the fetters
+that bind us.”</p>
+
+<p>“Think not thus gloomily on the subject,” replied Hansford. “Believe me,
+that you have already done much to develope the germ of freedom in
+Virginia. It may be that it may not expand and grow in our brief lives;
+and even though our memory may pass away, and the nation we have served
+may fail to call us blessed, yet they will rejoice in the fruition of
+that freedom for which we may perish. Should the soldier repine because
+he is allotted to lead a forlorn hope? No! there is a pride and a glory
+to know, that his death is the bridge over which others will pass to
+victory.”</p>
+
+<p>“God bless your noble soul, Hansford,” said Bacon, with the intensest
+admiration. “It is men like you and not like me who are worthy to live
+in future generations. Men who, regardless of the risk or sacrifice of
+self, press onward in the discharge of duty. Love of glory may elevate
+the soul in the hour of triumph, but love of duty, and firmness
+resolutely to discharge it, can alone sustain us in the hour of peril
+and trial.”</p>
+
+<p>This was at last the difference between the two men. Intense desire for
+personal fame, united with a subordinate love of country impelled Bacon
+in his course. Inflexible resolution to discharge a sacred duty, an
+entire abnegation of self in its performance, and the strongest
+convictions of right constituted the incentives to Hansford. It was this
+that in the hour of their need sustained the heart of Hansford, while
+the more selfish but noble heart of his leader almost sank within him;
+and yet the effects upon the actions of the two were much the same. The
+former, unswayed by circumstances however adverse, pressed steadily and
+firmly on; while the latter, with the calmness of desperation, know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>ing
+that safety, and (what was dearer) glory, lay in the path of success,
+braced himself for the struggle with more than his usual resolution.</p>
+
+<p>“But, alas!” continued Bacon, in the same melancholy tone, “if we should
+fail, how hard to be forgotten. Your name and memory to perish among men
+forever—your very grave to be neglected and uncared for; and this
+living, breathing frame, instinct with life, and love, and glory, to
+pass away and mingle with the dust of the veriest worm which crawls upon
+the earth. Oh, God! to be forgotten, to leave no impress on the world
+but what the next flowing tide may efface forever. Think of it, realize
+it, Hansford—to be forgotten!”</p>
+
+<p>“It would, indeed, be a melancholy thought,” said Hansford, with a deep
+sympathy for his friend—“if this were all. But when we remember that we
+stand but on the threshold of existence, and have a higher, a holier
+destiny to attain beyond, we need care but little for what is passing
+here. I have sometimes thought, my friend, that as in manhood we
+sometimes smile at the absurd frivolities which caught our childish
+fancy, so when elevated to a higher sphere we would sit and wonder at
+the interest which we took in the trifling pleasures, the empty honours,
+and the glittering toys of this present life.”</p>
+
+<p>“And do you mean to say that honour and glory are nothing here?”</p>
+
+<p>“Only so far as they reflect the honour and glory which are beyond.”</p>
+
+<p>“Pshaw, man!” cried Bacon, “you do not, you cannot think so. You ask me
+the reason of this desire for fame and remembrance when we are dust. I
+tell you it is an instinct implanted in us by the Almighty to impel us
+to glorious deeds.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye,” said Hansford, quietly, “and when that desire, by our own
+indulgence, becomes excessive, just as the baser<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> appetites of the
+glutton or the debauchee, it becomes corrupt and tends to our
+destruction.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are a curious fellow, Hansford,” said Bacon, laughing, “and should
+have been one of old Noll's generals—for I believe you can preach as
+well as you can fight, and believe me that is no slight commendation.
+But you must excuse me if I cannot agree with you in all of your
+sentiments. I am sorry to say that old Butler's 'pulpit drum
+ecclesiastic' seldom beat me to a church parade while I was in England,
+and here in Virginia they send us the worst preachers, as they send us
+the worst of every thing. But a truce to the subject. Tell me are you a
+believer in presentiments?”</p>
+
+<p>“Surely such things are possible, but I believe them to be rare,”
+replied his companion. “Future events certainly make an impression upon
+the animal creation, and I know not why man should be exempt entirely
+from a similar law. The migratory birds will seek a more southern clime,
+even before a change of weather is indicated by the wind, and the
+appearance of the albatross, or the bubbling of the porpoise, if we may
+believe the sailors' account, portend a storm.”</p>
+
+<p>“These phenomena,” suggested Bacon, “may easily be explained by some
+atmospheric influence, insensible to our nature, but easily felt by
+them.”</p>
+
+<p>“I might answer,” replied Hansford, “that if insensible to us, we are
+not warranted in presuming their existence. But who can tell in the
+subtle mechanism of the mind how sensitive it may be to the impressions
+of coming yet unseen events. At least, all nations have believed in the
+existence of such an influence, and the Deity himself has deigned to use
+it through his prophets, in the revelation of his purposes to man.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, true or not,” said Bacon, in a low voice, “I have felt the effect
+of such a presentiment in my own mind, and although I have tried to
+resist its influence I have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> unable to do so. There is something
+which whispers to me, Hansford, that I will not see the consummation of
+my hopes in this colony—and that dying I shall leave behind me an
+inglorious name. For what at last is an unsuccessful patriot but a
+rebel. And oh, as I have listened to the monitions of this demon, it
+seemed as though the veil of futurity were raised, and I could read my
+fate in after years. Some future chronicler will record this era of
+Virginia's history, and this struggle for freedom on the part of her
+patriot children will be styled rebellion; our actions misrepresented;
+our designs misinterpreted; and I the leader and in part the author of
+the movement will be handed down with Wat Tyler and Jack Cade to infamy,
+obloquy and reproach.”</p>
+
+<p>“Think not thus gloomily,” said Hansford, “the feelings you describe are
+often suggested to an excited imagination by the circumstances with
+which it is surrounded; just as dreams are the run mad chroniclers of
+our daily thoughts and hopes and apprehensions. You should not yield to
+them, General, they unman you or at least unfit you for the duties which
+lie before you.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are right,” returned Bacon; “and I banish them from me forever. I
+have half a mind to acknowledge myself your convert, Hansford; eschew
+the gaily bedizzened Glory, and engage your demure little Quaker, Duty,
+as my handmaiden in her place.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will feel but too proud of such a convert to my creed,” said Hansford
+laughing. “And now what of your plans on Jamestown?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why to tell you the truth,” said Bacon gravely; “I am somewhat at fault
+in regard to my actions there. I could take the town in a day, and
+repulse those raw recruits of the old Governor with ease, if they would
+only sally out. But I suspect the old tyrant will play a safe game with
+me—and securely ensconced behind his walls, will cut my brave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> boys to
+pieces with his cannon before I can make a successful breach.”</p>
+
+<p>“You could throw up breastworks for your protection,” suggested
+Hansford.</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, but I fear it would be building a stable after the horse was
+stolen. With our small force we could not resist their guns while we
+were constructing our fortifications. But I will try it by night, and we
+may succeed. The d—&mdash;d old traitor—if he would only meet me in open
+field, I could make my way 'through twenty times his stop.'”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we must encounter some risk,” replied Hansford. “I have great
+hopes from the character of his recruits, too. Though they number much
+more than ourselves, yet they serve without love, and in the present
+exhausted exchequer of the colony, are fed more by promises than money.”</p>
+
+<p>“They are certainly not likely to be fed by <i>angels</i>,” said Bacon, “as
+some of the old prophets are said to have been. But, Hansford, an idea
+has just struck me, which is quite a new manœuvre in warfare, and
+from which your ideas of chivalry will revolt.”</p>
+
+<p>“What is it?” asked Hansford eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>“Why if it succeeds,” returned Bacon, “I will warrant that Jamestown is
+in our hands in twenty-four hours, without the loss of more blood than
+would fill a quart canteen.”</p>
+
+<p>“Bravo, then, General, if you add such an important principle to the
+stock of military tactics, I'll warrant that whispering demon lied, and
+that you will retain both Glory and Duty in your service.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am afraid you will change your note, Thomas, when I develope my plan.
+It is simply this—to detail a party of men to scour the country around
+Jamestown, and collect the good dames and daughters of our loyal
+councillors. If we take them with us, I'll promise to provide a secure
+defence against the enemies' fire. The besieged will dare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> not fire a
+gun so long as there is danger of striking their wives and children, and
+we, in the meantime, secure behind this temporary breastwork, will
+prepare a less objectionable defence. What think you of the plan,
+Hansford?”</p>
+
+<p>“Good God!” cried Hansford, “You are not in earnest General Bacon?”</p>
+
+<p>“And why not?” said Bacon, in reply. “If such a course be not adopted,
+at least half of the brave fellows behind us will be slaughtered like
+sheep. While no harm can result to the ladies themselves, beyond the
+inconvenience of a few hours' exposure to the night air, which they
+should willingly endure to preserve life.”</p>
+
+<p>Hansford was silent. He knew how useless it was to oppose Bacon when he
+had once resolved. His chivalrous nature revolted at the idea of
+exposing refined and delicate females to such a trial. And yet he could
+not deny that the project if successfully carried out would be the means
+of saving much bloodshed, and of ensuring a speedy and easy victory to
+the insurgents.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, what are you thinking of, man,” said Bacon gaily. “I thought my
+project would wound your delicate sensibilities. But to my mind there is
+more real chivalry and more true humanity in sparing brave blood to
+brave hearts, than in sacrificing it to a sickly regard for a woman's
+feelings.”</p>
+
+<p>“The time has been when brave blood would have leaped gushing from brave
+hearts,” said Hansford proudly, “to protect woman from the slightest
+shadow of insult.”</p>
+
+<p>“Most true, my brave Chevalier Bayard,” said Bacon, in a tone of
+unaffected good humor, “and shall again—and mine, believe me, will not
+be more sluggish in such a cause than your own. But here no insult is
+intended and none will be given. These fair prisoners shall be treated
+with the respect due to their sex and station. My hand and sword for
+that. But the time has been when woman too was willing to sacrifice her
+shrinking delicacy in defence of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> her country. Wot ye how Rome was once
+saved by the noble intercession of the wife and mother of Caius
+Marcus—or how the English forces were beaten from the walls of Orleans
+by the heroic Joan, or how—”</p>
+
+<p>“You need not multiply examples,” said Hansford interrupting him, “to
+show how women of a noble nature have unsexed themselves to save their
+country. Your illustrations do not apply, for they did voluntarily what
+the ladies of Virginia must do upon compulsion. But, sir, I have no more
+to say. If you persist in this resolution, unchivalrous as I believe it
+to be, yet I will try to see my duty in ameliorating the condition of
+these unhappy females as far as possible.”</p>
+
+<p>“And in me you shall have been a most cordial coadjutor,” returned
+Bacon. “But, my dear fellow, your chivalry is too shallow. Excuse me, if
+I say that it is all mere sentiment without a substratum of reason. Now
+look you—you would willingly kill in battle the husbands of these
+ladies, and thus inflict a life-long wound upon them, and yet you refuse
+to pursue a course by which lives may be saved, because it subjects them
+to a mere temporary inconvenience. But look again. Have you no sympathy
+left for the wives, no chivalry for the daughters of our own brave
+followers, whose hearts will be saved full many a pang by a stratagem,
+which will ensure the safety of their protectors. Believe me, my dear
+Hansford, if chivalry be nought but a mawkish sentiment, which would
+throw away the real substance of good, to retain the mere shadow
+reflected in its mirror, like the poor dog in the fable—the sooner its
+reign is over the better for humanity.”</p>
+
+<p>“But, General Bacon,” said Hansford, by no means convinced by the
+sophistry of his plausible leader, “if the future chronicler of whom you
+spoke, should indeed write the history of this enterprise, he will
+record no fact which will reflect less honour upon your name, than that
+you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> found a means for your defence in the persons of defenceless
+women.”</p>
+
+<p>“So let it be, my gallant chevalier,” replied Bacon, gaily, determined
+not to be put out of humour by Hansford's grave remonstrance. “But you
+have taught me not to look into future records for my name, or for the
+vindication of my course—and your demure damsel Duty has whispered that
+I am in the path of right. Look ye, Hansford, don't be angry with your
+friend; for I assure you on the honour of a gentleman, that the dames
+themselves will bear testimony to the chivalry of Nathaniel Bacon. And
+besides, my dear fellow, we will not impress any but the sterner old
+dames into our service. You know the older they are the better they will
+serve for material for an <i>impregnable</i> fortress.”</p>
+
+<p>So saying, Bacon ordered a halt, and communicating to his soldiers his
+singular design, he detailed Captain Wilford and a party of a dozen men,
+selected on account of their high character, to capture and bring into
+his camp the wives of certain of the royalists, who, though residing in
+the country, had rallied to the support of Sir William Berkeley, on his
+return to Jamestown. In addition to these who were thus found in their
+several homes, the detailed corps had intercepted the carriage of our
+old friend, Colonel Temple; for the old loyalist had no sooner heard of
+the return of Sir William Berkeley, than he hastened to join him at the
+metropolis, leaving his wife and daughter to follow him on the
+succeeding day. What was the consternation and mortification of Thomas
+Hansford as he saw the fair Virginia Temple conducted, weeping, into the
+rude camp of the insurgents, followed by her high-tempered old mother,
+who to use the chaste and classic simile of Tony Lumpkin, “fidgeted and
+spit about like a Catherine wheel.”</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“It is the cry of women, good, my lord.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Macbeth.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>Agreeably with the promise of Bacon, the captured ladies were treated
+with a respect and deference which allayed in a great degree their many
+apprehensions. Still they could not refrain from expressions of the
+strongest indignation at an act so unusual, so violent, and so entirely
+at war with the established notions of chivalry at the time. As the
+reader will readily conjecture, our good friend, Mrs. Temple, was by no
+means the most patient under the wrongs she had endured, and resisting
+the kind attentions of those around her, she was vehement in her
+denunciations of her captors, and in her apprehensions of a thousand
+imaginary dangers.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh my God!” she cried, “I know that they intend to murder us. To think
+of leaving a quiet home, and being exposed to such treatment as this.
+Oh, my precious husband, if he only knew what a situation his poor
+Betsey was in at this moment; but never mind, as sure as I am a living
+woman, he shall know it, and then we will see.”</p>
+
+<p>“My dear Mrs. Temple,” said Mrs. Ballard, another of the captives, “do
+not give way to your feelings thus. It is useless, and will only serve
+to irritate these men.”</p>
+
+<p>“Men! they are not men!” returned the excited old lady, refusing to be
+comforted. “Men never would have treated ladies so. They are base,
+cruel, inhuman wretches, and, as I said before, if I live, to get to
+Jamestown, Colonel Temple shall know of it too—so he shall.”</p>
+
+<p>“But reflect, my dear friend, that our present condition<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> is not
+affected by this very natural resolution which you have made, to inform
+your husband of your wrongs. But whatever may be the object of these
+persons, I feel assured that they intend no personal injury to us.”</p>
+
+<p>“No personal injury, forsooth; and have we not sustained it already.
+Look at my head-tire, all done up nicely just before I left the hall,
+and now scarcely fit to be seen. And is it nothing to be hauled all over
+the country with a party of ruffians, that I would be ashamed to be
+caught in company with; and who knows what they intend?”</p>
+
+<p>“I admit with you, my dear madam,” said Mrs. Ballard, “that such conduct
+is unmanly and inexcusable, and I care not who hears me say so. But
+still,” she added in a low voice, “we have the authority of scripture to
+make friends even of the mammon of unrighteousness.”</p>
+
+<p>“Friends! I would die first. I who have been moving in the first
+circles, the wife of Colonel Temple, who, if he had chosen, might have
+been the greatest in the land, to make friends with a party of mean,
+sneaking, cowardly ruffians. Never—and I'll speak my mind freely
+too—they shall see that I have a woman's tongue in my head and know how
+to resent these injuries. Oh, for shame! and to wear swords too, which
+used to be the badge of gentlemen and cavaliers, who would rather have
+died than wrong a poor, weak, defenceless woman—much less to rob and
+murder her.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, let us hope for the best, my friend,” said Mrs. Ballard; “God
+knows I feel as you do, that we have been grossly wronged; but let us
+remember that we are in the hands of a just and merciful Providence, who
+will do with us according to his holy will.”</p>
+
+<p>“I only know that we are in the hands of a parcel of impious and
+merciless wretches,” cried the old lady, who, as we have seen on a
+former occasion, derived but little comfort from the consolations of
+religion in the hour of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> trial. “I hope I have as much religion as my
+fellows, who pretend to so much more—but I should like to know what
+effect that would have on a band of lawless cut-throats?”</p>
+
+<p>“He has given us his holy promise,” said Virginia, in a solemn, yet
+hopeful voice of resignation, “that though we walk through the valley
+and the shadow of death, he will be with us—his rod and his staff will
+comfort us—yea, he prepareth a table for us in the presence of our
+enemies, our cup runneth over.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I reckon I know that as well as you, miss; but it seems there is
+but little chance of having a table prepared for us here,” retorted her
+mother, whose fears and indignation had whetted rather than allayed her
+appetite. “But I think it is very unseemly in a young girl to be so calm
+under such circumstances. I know that when I was your age, the bare idea
+of submitting to such an exposure as this would have shocked me out of
+my senses.”</p>
+
+<p>Virginia could not help thinking, that considering the lapse of time
+since her mother was a young girl, there had been marvellously little
+change wrought in her keen sensibility to exposure; for she was already
+evidently “shocked out of her senses.” But she refrained from expressing
+such a dangerous opinion, and replied, in a sad tone—</p>
+
+<p>“And can you think, my dearest mother, that I do not feel in all its
+force our present awful condition! But, alas! what can we do. As Mrs.
+Ballard truly says, our best course is to endeavour to move the coarse
+sympathies of these rebels, and even if they should not relent, they
+will at least render our condition less fearful by their forbearance and
+respect. Oh, my mother! my only friend in this dark hour of peril and
+misfortune, think not so harshly of your daughter as to suppose that she
+feels less acutely the horrors of her situation, because she fails to
+express her fears.” And so saying, the poor girl drew yet closer to her
+mother, and wept upon her bosom.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>“I meant not to speak unkindly, dear Jeanie,” said the good-hearted old
+lady, “but you know, my child, that when my fears get the better of me,
+I am not myself. It does seem to me, that I was born under some unlucky
+star. Ever since I was born the world has been turning upside down; and
+God knows, I don't know what I have done that it should be so. But
+first, that awful revolution in England, and then, when we came here to
+pass our old days in peace and quiet, this infamous rebellion. And yet I
+must say, I never knew any thing like this. There was at least some show
+of religion among the old Roundheads, and though they were firm and
+demure enough, and hated all kinds of amusement, and cruel enough too
+with all their psalm singing, to cut off their poor king's head, yet
+they always treated women with respect and decency. But, indeed, even
+the rebels of the present day are not what they used to be.”</p>
+
+<p>Virginia could scarcely forbear smiling, amid her tears, at this new
+application of her mother's favourite theory. The conversation was here
+interrupted by the approach of a young officer, who, bowing respectfully
+to the bevy of captive ladies, said politely, that he was sorry to
+intrude upon their presence, but that, as it was time to pursue their
+journey, he had come to ask if the ladies would partake of some
+refreshment before their ride.</p>
+
+<p>“If they could share the rough fare of a soldier, it would bestow a
+great favour and honour upon him to attend to their wishes; and indeed,
+as it would be several hours before they could reach Jamestown, they
+would stand in need of some refreshment, ere they arrived at more
+comfortable quarters.”</p>
+
+<p>“As your unhappy prisoners, sir,” said Mrs. Ballard, with great dignity,
+“we can scarcely object to a soldier's fare. Prisoners have no choice
+but to take the food which the humanity of their jailers sets before
+them. Your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> apology is therefore needless, if not insulting to our
+misfortunes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, madam,” returned Wilford, in the same respectful tone, “I did not
+mean to offend you, and regret that I have done so through mistaken
+kindness. May I add that, in common with the rest of the army, I deplore
+the necessity which has compelled us to resort to such harsh means
+towards yourselves, in order to ensure success and safety.”</p>
+
+<p>“I deeply sympathize with you in your profound regret,” said Mrs.
+Ballard, ironically. “But pray tell me, sir, if you learned this very
+novel and chivalric mode of warfare from the savages with whom you have
+been contending, or is it the result of General Bacon's remarkable
+military genius?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is the result of the stern necessity under which we rest, of coping
+with a force far superior to our own. And I trust that while your
+ladyships can suffer but little inconvenience from our course, you will
+not regret your own cares, if thereby you might prevent an effusion of
+blood.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, that is it,” replied Mrs. Ballard, in the same tone of withering
+irony. “I confess that I was dull enough to believe that the
+self-constituted, self-styled champions of freedom had courage enough to
+battle for the right, and not to screen themselves from danger, as a
+child will seek protection behind its mother's apron, from the attack of
+an enraged cow.”</p>
+
+<p>“Madam, I will not engage in an encounter of wits with you. I will do
+you but justice when I say that few would come off victors in such a
+contest. But I have a message from one of our officers to this young
+lady, I believe, which I was instructed to reserve for her private ear.”</p>
+
+<p>“There is no need for a confidential communication,” said Virginia
+Temple, “as I have no secret which I desire to conceal from my mother
+and these companions in misfor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>tune. If, therefore, you have aught to
+say to me, you may say it here, or else leave it unexpressed.”</p>
+
+<p>“As you please, my fair young lady,” returned Wilford. “My message
+concerns you alone, but if you do not care to conceal it from your
+companions, I will deliver it in their presence. Major Thomas Hansford
+desires me to say, that if you would allow him the honour of an
+interview of a few moments, he would gladly take the opportunity of
+explaining to you the painful circumstances by which you are surrounded,
+in a manner which he trusts may meet with your approbation.”</p>
+
+<p>“Say to Major Thomas Hansford,” replied Virginia, proudly, “that, as I
+am his captive, I cannot prevent his intrusion into my presence. I
+cannot refuse to hear what he may have to speak. But tell him, moreover,
+that no explanation can justify this last base act, and that no
+reparation can erase it from my memory. Tell him that she who once
+honoured him, and loved him, as all that was noble, and generous, and
+chivalric, now looks back upon the past as on a troubled dream; and
+that, in future, if she should hear his name, she will remember him but
+as one who, cast in a noble mould, might have been worthy of the highest
+admiration, but, defaced by an indelible stain, is cast aside as worthy
+alike of her indignation and contempt.”</p>
+
+<p>As the young girl uttered the last fatal words, she sank back into her
+grassy seat by her mother's side, as though exhausted by the effort she
+had made. She had torn with violent resolution from her breast the image
+which had so long been enshrined there—not only as a picture to be
+loved, but as an idol to be worshipped—and though duty had nerved and
+sustained her in the effort, nothing could assuage the anguish it
+inflicted. She did not love him then, but she had loved him; and her
+heart, like the gloomy chamber where death has been, seemed more
+desolate for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> the absence of that which, though hideous to gaze upon,
+was now gone forever.</p>
+
+<p>Young Wilford was deeply impressed with the scene, and could not
+altogether conceal the emotion which it excited. In a hurried and
+agitated voice he promised to deliver her message to Hansford, and
+bowing again politely to the ladies, he slowly withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments one of the soldiers came with the expected refreshment,
+which certainly justified the description which Wilford had given. It
+was both coarse and plain. Jerked venison, which had evidently been the
+property of a stag with a dozen branches to his horns, and some dry and
+moulding biscuit, completed the homely repast. Virginia, and most of her
+companions, declined partaking of the unsavoury viands, but Mrs. Temple,
+though bitterly lamenting her hard fate, in dooming her to such hard
+fare, worked vigorously away at the tough venison with her two remaining
+molars—asserting the while, very positively, that no such venison as
+that existed in her young days, though, to confess the truth, if we may
+judge from the evident age of the deceased animal, it certainly did.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Yet, though dull hate as duty should be taught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I know that thou wilt love me; though my name<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should be shut from thee, as a spell still fraught<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With desolation,—and a broken claim;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though the grave closed between us, 'twere the same.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i34"><i>Childe Harold.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>The daylight had entirely disappeared, and the broad disc of the full
+September moon was just appearing above the eastern horizon, when Bacon
+and his followers resumed their march. Each of the captive ladies was
+placed upon a horse, behind one of the officers, whose heavy riding
+cloak was firmly girt to the horse's back, to provide a more comfortable
+seat. Thus advancing, at a constant, but slow pace, to accommodate the
+wearied soldiers, they pursued their onward course toward Jamestown. It
+was Bacon's object to arrive before the town as early as possible in the
+night, so as to secure the completion of their intrenchments and
+breastworks before the morning, when he intended to commence the siege.
+And now, as they are lighted on their way by the soft rays of the
+autumnal moon, let us hear the conversation which was passing between
+one of the cavaliers and his fair companion, as they rode slowly along
+at some distance from the rest.</p>
+
+<p>We may well suppose that Thomas Hansford, forced thus reluctantly to
+engage in a policy from which his very soul revolted, would not commit
+the charge of Virginia's person to another. She, at least, should learn,
+that though so brutally impressed into the service of the rebel army,
+there was an arm there to shield her from danger and protect her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> from
+rudeness or abuse. She, at least, should learn that there was one heart
+there, however despised and spurned by others, which beat in its every
+throb for her safety and happiness.</p>
+
+<p>Riding, as we have said, a little slower than the rest, so as to be a
+little out of hearing, he said, in a low voice, tremulous with half
+suppressed emotion, “Miss Temple cannot be ignorant of who her companion
+is?”</p>
+
+<p>“Your voice assures me,” replied Virginia, “that my conjecture is right,
+and that I am in the presence of one who was once an honoured friend.
+But had your voice and form changed as entirely as your heart, I could
+never have recognized in the rebel who scruples not to insult a
+defenceless woman, the once gallant and chivalrous Hansford.”</p>
+
+<p>“And do you, can you believe that my heart has indeed so thoroughly
+changed?”</p>
+
+<p>“I would fain believe so, else I am forced to the conclusion that I
+have, all my life, been deceived in a character which I deemed worthy of
+my love, while it was only the more black because it was hypocritical.”</p>
+
+<p>“Virginia,” said Hansford, with desperation, “you shall not talk thus;
+you shall not think thus of me.”</p>
+
+<p>“As my captor and jailer,” returned the brave hearted young maiden, “Mr.
+Hansford may, probably, by force, control the expression of my
+opinions—but thank God! not even you can control my thoughts. The mind,
+at least, is free, though the body be enslaved.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, do not mistake my meaning, dear Virginia,” said her lover. “But
+alas! I am the victim of misconstruction. Could you, for a moment,
+believe that I was capable of an act which you have justly described as
+unmanly and unchivalrous?”</p>
+
+<p>“What other opinion can I have?” said Virginia. “I find you acting with
+those who are guilty of an act as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> cowardly as it is cruel. I find you
+tacitly acquiescing in their measures, and aiding in guarding and
+conducting their unhappy captives—and I received from you a message in
+which you pretend to say that you can justify that which is at once
+inexcusable before heaven, and in the court of man's honour. Forgive me,
+if I am unable to separate the innocent from the guilty, and if I fail
+to see that your conduct is more noble in this attempt to shift the
+consequences of your crime upon your confederates.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, by Heaven, you wrong me!” returned Hansford. “My message to you
+was mistaken by Captain Wilford. I never said I could justify your
+capture; I charged him to tell you I could justify myself. And as for my
+being found with those who have committed this unmanly act, as well
+might you be deemed a participator in their actions now, because of your
+presence here. I remonstrated, I protested against such a course—and
+when at last adopted I denounced it as unworthy of men, and far more
+unworthy of soldiers and freemen.”</p>
+
+<p>“And yet, when overwhelmed by the voices of others, you quietly
+acquiesce, and remain in companionship with those whose conduct you had
+denounced.”</p>
+
+<p>“What else could I do?” urged Hansford. “My feeble arm could not resist
+the action of two hundred-men; and it only remained for me to continue
+here, that I might secure the safety and kind treatment of those who
+were the victims of this rude violence. Alas! how little did I think
+that so soon you would be one of those unhappy victims, and that my
+heart would deplore, for its own sake, a course from which my judgment
+and better nature already revolted.”</p>
+
+<p>The scales fell from Virginia's eyes. She now saw clearly the bitter
+trial through which her lover had been called to pass, and recognized
+once more the generous, self-denying nature of Hansford. The stain upon
+his pure fame, to use<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> her own figure, was but the effect of the false
+and deceptive lens through which she had looked, and now that she saw
+clearly, it was restored to its original purity and beauty.</p>
+
+<p>“And is this true, indeed?” she said, in a happy voice. “Believe me,
+Hansford, the relief which I feel at this moment more than compensates
+for all that I have endured. The renewed assurance of your honour atones
+for all. Can you forgive me for harbouring for a moment a suspicion that
+you were aught but the soul of honour?”</p>
+
+<p>“Forgive you, dearest?” returned Hansford. “Most freely—most fully! But
+scarcely can I forgive those who have so wronged you. Cast in a common
+lot with them, and struggling for a common cause, I cannot now withdraw
+from their association; and indeed, Virginia, I will be candid, and tell
+you freely that I would not if I could.”</p>
+
+<p>“Alas!” said Virginia, “and what can be the result of your efforts.
+Sooner or later aid must come from England, and crush a rebellion whose
+success has only been ephemeral. And what else can be expected or
+desired, since we have already seen how lost to honour are those by whom
+it is attempted. Would you wish, if you could, to subject your country
+to the sway of men, who, impelled only by their own reckless passions,
+disregard alike the honour due from man and the respect due to woman?”</p>
+
+<p>“You mistake the character of these brave men, Virginia. I believe
+sincerely that General Bacon was prompted to this policy by a real
+desire to prevent the unnecessary loss of life; and though this humanity
+cannot entirely screen his conduct from reprehension, yet it may cast a
+veil over it. Bold and reckless though he be, his powerful mind is
+swayed by many noble feelings; and although he may commit errors, they
+nearly lose their grossness in his ardent love of freedom, and his
+exalted contempt of danger.”</p>
+
+<p>“His love of freedom, I presume, is illustrated by his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> forcible capture
+of unprotected females,” returned Virginia; “and his contempt of danger,
+by his desire to interpose his captives between himself and the guns of
+his enemies.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have told you,” said Hansford, “that this conduct is incapable of
+being justified, and in this I grant that Bacon has grievously erred.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then why continue to unite your fortunes to a man whose errors are so
+gross and disgraceful, and whose culpable actions endanger your own
+reputation with your best friends?”</p>
+
+<p>“Because,” said Hansford, proudly, “we are engaged in a cause, in the
+full accomplishment of which the faults and errors of its champion will
+be forgotten, and ransomed humanity will learn to bless his name,
+scarcely less bright for the imperfections on its disc.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your reasoning reminds me,” said Virginia, “of the heretical sect of
+Cainites, of whom my father once told me, who exalted even Judas to a
+hero, because by his treason redemption was effected for the world.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, my dear girl,” replied Hansford, “you maintain your position most
+successfully. But since you quote from the history of the Church, I will
+illustrate my position after the manner of a sage old oracle of the law.
+Sir Edward Coke once alluded to the fable, that there was not a bird
+that flitted through the air, but contributed by its donations to
+complete the eagle's nest. And so liberty, whose fittest emblem is the
+eagle, has its home provided and furnished by many who are unworthy to
+enjoy the home which they have aided in preparing. Admit even, if you
+please, that General Bacon is one of these unclean birds, we cannot
+refuse the contribution which he brings in aid of the glorious cause
+which we maintain.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, but he is like, with his vaulting ambition, to be the eagle
+himself,” returned Virginia; “and to say truth,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> although I have great
+confidence in your protection, I feel like a lone dove in his talons,
+and would wish for a safer home than in his eyrie.”</p>
+
+<p>“You need fear no danger, be assured, dearest Virginia,” said Hansford,
+“either for yourself or your mother. It is a part of his plan to send
+one of the ladies under our charge into the city, to apprise the
+garrison of our strange manœuvre; and I have already his word, that
+your mother and yourself will be the bearers of this message. In a few
+moments, therefore, your dangers will be past, and you will once more be
+in the arms of your noble old father.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh thanks, thanks, my generous protector,” cried the girl, transported
+at this new prospect of her freedom. “I can never forget your kindness,
+nor cease to regret that I could ever have had a doubt of your honour
+and integrity.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh forget that,” returned Hansford, “or remember it only that you may
+acknowledge that it is often better to bear with the circumstances which
+we cannot control, than by hasty opposition to lose the little influence
+we may possess with those in power. But see the moonlight reflected from
+the steeple of yonder church. We are within sight of Jamestown, and you
+will be soon at liberty. And oh! Virginia,” he said sorrowfully, “if it
+should be decreed in the book of fate, that when we part to-night we
+part forever, and if the name of Hansford be defamed and vilified, you
+at least, I know, will rescue his honour from reproach—and one tear
+from my faithful Virginia, shed upon a patriot's grave, will atone for
+all the infamy which indignant vengeance may heap upon my name.”</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he spurred his horse rapidly onward, until he overtook Bacon,
+who, with the precious burden under his care, as usual, led the way. And
+a precious burden it might well be called, for by the light of the moon
+the reader could have no difficulty in recognizing in the companion of
+the young general of the insurgents, our old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> acquaintance, Mrs. Temple.
+In the earlier part of their journey she had by no means contributed to
+the special comfort of her escort—now, complaining bitterly of the
+roughness of the road, she would grasp him around the waist with both
+arms, until he was in imminent peril of falling from his horse, and then
+when pacified by a smoother path and an easier gait, she would burst
+forth in a torrent of invective against the cowardly rebels who would
+misuse a poor old woman so. Bacon, however, while alike regardless of
+her complaints of the road, the horse, or himself, did all in his power
+to mollify the old lady, by humouring her prejudices as well as he
+could; and when he at last informed her of the plan by which she and her
+daughter would so soon regain their liberty, her temper relaxed, and she
+became highly communicative. She was, indeed, deep in a description of
+some early scenes of her life, and was telling how she had once seen the
+bonnie young Charley with her own eyes, when he was hiding from the
+pursuit of the Roundheads, and how he commended her loyalty, and above
+all her looks; and promised when he came to his own to bestow a peerage
+on her husband for his faithful adherence to the cause of his king. The
+narrative had already lasted an hour or more when Hansford and Virginia
+rode up and arrested the conversation, much to the relief of Bacon, who
+was gravely debating in his own mind whether it was more agreeable to
+hear the good dame's long-winded stories about past loyalty, or to
+submit to her vehement imprecations on present rebellion.</p>
+
+<p>The young general saluted Virginia courteously as she approached,
+expressing the hope that she had not suffered from her exposure to the
+night air, and then turned to Hansford, and engaged in conversation with
+him on matters of interest connected with the approaching contest.</p>
+
+<p>But as his remarks will be more fully understood, and his views
+developed in the next chapter, we forbear to re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>cord them here. Suffice
+it to say, that among other things it was determined, that immediately
+upon their arrival before Jamestown, Mrs. Temple and Virginia, under the
+escort of Hansford, should be conducted to the gate of the town, and
+convey to the Governor and his adherents the intelligence of the capture
+of the wives of the loyalists. We will only so far anticipate the
+regular course of our narrative as to say, that this duty was performed
+without being attended with any incident worthy of special remark; and
+that Hansford, bidding a sad farewell to Virginia and her mother,
+committed them to the care of the sentinel at the gate, and returned
+slowly and sorrowfully to the insurgent camp.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“How yet resolves the Governor of the town?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the latest parle we will admit.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If I begin the battery once again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will not leave the half achieved Harfleur,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till in her ashes she lie buried.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i20"><i>King Henry V.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>And now was heard on the clear night air the shrill blast of a solitary
+trumpet breathing defiance, and announcing to the besieged loyalists,
+the presence of the insurgents before the walls of Jamestown. Exhausted
+by their long march, and depressed by the still gloomy prospect before
+them, the thinned ranks of the rebel army required all the encouraging
+eloquence of their general, to urge them forward in their perilous duty.
+Nor did they need it long.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> Drawing his wearied, but faithful followers
+around him, the young and ardent enthusiast addressed them in language
+like the following:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Soldiers</span>,”</p>
+
+<p>“Animated by a desire to free your country from the incursions of a
+savage foe, you have crowned your arms with victory and your lives
+with honor. You have annihilated the Indian power in Virginia, and
+in the waters of the brook which was the witness of your victory,
+you have washed away the stains of its cruelty. The purple blood
+which dyed that fatal stream, has even now passed away; Yet your
+deeds shall survive in the name which you have given it. And future
+generations, when they look upon its calm and unstained bosom, will
+remember with grateful hearts, those brave men who have given
+security to their homes, and will bless your patriot names when
+they repeat the story of Bloody Run.</p>
+
+<p>“For this you have been proclaimed traitors to your country and
+rebels to your king. Traitors to a country within whose borders the
+Indian war whoop has been hushed by your exertions! Rebels to your
+king for preserving Virginia, the brightest jewel in his crown,
+from inevitable ruin! But though you have accomplished much, much
+yet remains undone. Then nerve your stout hearts and gird on your
+armour once more for the contest. Though your enemies are not to be
+despised, they are not to be feared. <i>They</i> fight as mercenaries
+uninspired by the cause which they have espoused. <i>You</i> battle for
+freedom, for honor and for life. Your freedom is threatened by the
+oppressions of a relentless tyrant and a subservient Assembly. Your
+honor is assailed, for you are publicly branded as traitors. Your
+lives are proscribed by those who have basely charged your
+patriotism as treason, and your defence of your country as
+rebellion. Be not dismayed with the numbers of your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> foes. Think
+only that it is yours to lessen them. Remember that Peace can never
+come to you, though you woo it never so sweetly. You must go to it,
+even though your way thither lay through a sea of blood. You will
+find me ever where danger is thickest. I will share your peril now
+and your reward hereafter.”</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>Inspired with new ardour, by the words and still more by the example of
+their leader, the soldiers proceeded to the task of constructing a
+breastwork for their defence. Bacon himself at imminent risk to his
+person, drew with his own hands the line for the entrenchment, while the
+soldiers prepared for themselves a secure defence from attack by a
+breastwork composed of felled trees, earth, and brushwood. It was a
+noble sight, I ween, to see these hardy patriots of the olden time,
+nearly sinking under fatigue, yet working cheerfully and ardently in the
+cause of freedom—to hear their axes ringing merrily through the still
+night air, and the tall forest trees falling with a heavy crash, as they
+were preparing their rude fortifications; and to look up on the cold,
+silent moon, as she watched them from her high path in heaven, and you
+might almost think, smiled with cold disdain, to think that all their
+hopes would be blasted, and their ardour checked by defeat, while she in
+her pride of fulness would traverse that same high arch twelve hundred
+times before the day-star of freedom dawned upon the land.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime the besieged loyalists having heard with surprise and
+consternation, the story of Mrs. Temple and Virginia, were completely
+confounded. Fearing to fire a single gun, lest the ball intended for
+their adversaries might pierce the heart of some innocent woman, they
+were forced to await with impatience the completion of the works of the
+insurgents. The latter had not the same reason for forbearance, and made
+several successful sorties upon the palisades, which surrounded the
+town, effecting several breaches, and killing some men, but without loss
+to any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> their own party. Furious at the successful stratagems of the
+rebels and fearing an accession to their number from the surrounding
+country, Sir William Berkeley at length determined to make a sally from
+the town, and test the strength and courage of his adversaries in an
+open field. Bacon, meanwhile, having effected his object in securing a
+sufficient fortification, with much courtesy dismissed the captive
+ladies, who went, rejoicing at their liberation, to tell the story of
+their wrongs to their loyal husbands.</p>
+
+<p>The garrison of Jamestown consisting of about twenty cavalier loyalists,
+and eight hundred raw, undisciplined recruits, picked up by Berkeley
+during his stay in Accomac, were led on firmly towards the entrenchments
+of the rebels, by Beverley and Ludwell, who stood high in the confidence
+of the Governor, and in the esteem of the colony, as brave and
+chivalrous men. Among the subordinate officers in the garrison was
+Alfred Bernard, rejoicing in the commission of captain, but recently
+conferred, and burning to distinguish himself in a contest against the
+rebels. From their posts behind the entrenchment, the insurgents calmly
+watched the approach of their foes. Undismayed by their numbers, nearly
+four times as great as their own, they awaited patiently the signal of
+their general to begin the attack. Bacon, on his part, with all the
+ardour of his nature, possessed in an equal degree the coolness and
+prudence of a great general, and was determined not to risk a fire,
+until the enemy was sufficiently near to ensure heavy execution. When at
+length the front line of the assailants advanced within sixty yards of
+the entrenchment, he gave the word, which was obeyed with tremendous
+effect, and then without leaving their posts, they prepared to renew
+their fire. But it was not necessary. Despite the exhortations and
+prayers of their gallant officers, the royal army, dismayed at the first
+fire of the enemy, broke ranks and retreated, leaving their drum and
+their dead upon the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> field. In vain did Ludwell exhort them, in the name
+of the king, to return to the assault; in vain did the brave Beverley
+implore them as Virginians and Englishmen not to desert their colors; in
+vain did Alfred Bernard conjure them to retrieve the character of
+soldiers and of men, and to avenge the cause of wronged and insulted
+women upon the cowardly oppressors. Regardless alike of king, country or
+the laws of gallantry, the soldiers ran like frightened sheep, from
+their pursuers, nor stopped in their flight until once more safely
+ensconced behind their batteries, and under the protection of the cannon
+from the ships. The brave cavaliers looked aghast at this cowardly
+defection, and stood for a moment irresolute, with the guns of the
+insurgents bearing directly upon them. Bacon could easily have fired
+upon them with certain effect, but with the magnanimity of a brave man,
+he was struck with admiration for their dauntless courage, and with pity
+for their helplessness. Nor was he by any means anxious to pursue them,
+for he feared lest a victory so easily won, might be a stratagem of the
+enemy, and that by venturing to pursue, he might fall into an ambuscade.
+Contenting himself, therefore, with the advantage he had already gained,
+he remained behind his entrenchment, determined to wait patiently for
+the morrow, before he commenced another attack upon the town.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Let's leave this town; for they are hairbrained slaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hunger will enforce them to be more eager.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of old I know them; rather with their teeth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The walls they'll tear down, than forsake the siege.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i34"><i>King Henry VI.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>It was very late, but there were few in Jamestown on that last night of
+its existence that cared to sleep. Those who were not kept awake by the
+cares of state or military duties, were yet suffering from an intense
+apprehension, which denied them repose. There was “hurrying to and fro,”
+along Stuart street, and “whispering with white lips,” among the
+thronging citizens. Ever siding with the stronger party, and inclined to
+attribute to the besieged Governor the whole catalogue of evils under
+which the colony was groaning, many of the lower classes of the citizens
+expressed their sympathy with Nathaniel Bacon, and only awaited a secret
+opportunity to desert to his ranks. A conspiracy was ripening among the
+soldiery to open the gates to the insurgents, and surrender at once the
+town and the Governor into their hands—but over-awed by the resolute
+boldness of their leader, and wanting in the strength of will to act for
+themselves, they found it difficult to carry their plan into execution.</p>
+
+<p>Sir William Berkeley, with a few of his steady adherents and faithful
+friends, was anxiously awaiting, in the large hall of the palace, the
+tidings of the recent sally upon the besiegers. Notwithstanding the
+superior numbers of his men, he had but little confidence either in
+their loyalty or courage, while he was fully conscious of the desperate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>
+bravery of the insurgents. While hope whispered that the little band of
+rebels must yield to the overwhelming force of the garrison, fear
+interposed, to warn him of the danger of defection and cowardice in his
+ranks. As thus he sat anxiously endeavouring to guess the probable
+result of his sally, heavy footsteps were heard ascending the stairs.
+The heart of the old Governor beat thick with apprehension, and the damp
+drops wrung from him by anxiety and care, stood in cold beads upon his
+brow.</p>
+
+<p>“What news?” he cried, in a hoarse, agitated voice, as Colonel Ludwell,
+Robert Beverley, and Alfred Bernard entered the room. “But I read it in
+your countenances! All is lost!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, Governor Berkeley,” said Philip Ludwell, “all is lost! we have not
+even the melancholy consolation of Francis, 'that our honour is
+preserved.' The cowardly hinds who followed us, fled from the first
+charge of the rebels, like frightened hares. All attempts to rally them
+were in vain, and many of them we understand have joined with the
+rebels.”</p>
+
+<p>As the fatal tidings fell upon his ear, Berkeley pressed his hand to his
+forehead, and sobbed aloud. The heart of the brave old loyalist could
+bear no more—and all the haughty dignity of his nature gave way in a
+flood of bitter tears. But the effect was only transient, and nerving
+himself, he controlled his feelings once more by the energy of his iron
+will.</p>
+
+<p>“How many still remain with us?” he asked, anxiously, of Ludwell.</p>
+
+<p>“Alas! sir, if the rumour which we heard as we came hither be
+true—none, absolutely none. There was an immense crowd gathered around
+the tavern, listening to the news of our defeat from one of the
+soldiers, and as we passed a loud and insulting cry went up of “Long
+live Bacon! and down with tyranny!” The soldiers declared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> that they
+would not stain their hands with the blood of their fellow-subjects; the
+citizens as vehemently declared that the town itself should not long
+harbour those who had trampled on their rights. Treason stalks abroad
+boldly and openly, and I fear that the loyalty of Virginia is confined
+to this room.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, Heaven help me,” said Berkeley, sadly, “for the world has well
+nigh deserted me. And yet, if I fall, I shall fall at my post, and the
+trust bestowed upon me by my king shall be yielded only with my life.”</p>
+
+<p>“It were madness to think of remaining longer here,” said Beverley; “the
+rebels, with the most consummate courage, evince the most profound
+prudence and judgment. Before the dawn they will bring their cannon to
+bear upon our ships and force them to withdraw from the harbour, and
+then all means of escape being cut off, we will be forced to surrender
+on such terms as the enemy may dictate.”</p>
+
+<p>“We will yield to no terms,” replied Berkeley. “For myself, death is far
+preferable to dishonour. Rather than surrender the trust which I have in
+charge, let us remain here, until, like the brave senators of Rome, we
+are hacked to pieces at our posts by the swords of these barbarians.”</p>
+
+<p>“But what can you expect to gain by such a desperate course,” said old
+Ballard, who, though not without a sufficient degree of courage, would
+prefer rather to admire the heroism of the Roman patriots in history,
+than to vie with them in their desperate resolution.</p>
+
+<p>“I expect to retain my honour,” cried the brave old Governor. “A brave
+man may suffer death—he can never submit to dishonour.”</p>
+
+<p>“My honoured Governor,” said Major Beverley, whose well-known courage
+and high-toned chivalry gave great effect to his counsel; “believe me,
+that we all admire your steady loyalty and your noble heroism. But
+reflect, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> you gain nothing by desperation, and it is the part of
+true courage not to hazard a desperate risk without any hope of success.
+God knows that I would willingly yield up my own life to preserve
+unsullied the honour of my country, and the dignity of my king; but I
+doubt how far we serve his real interests by a deliberate sacrifice of
+all who are loyal to his cause.”</p>
+
+<p>“And what then would you advise?” said the Governor, in an irritated
+manner. “To make a base surrender of our persons and our cause, and to
+grant to these insolent rebels every concession which their insolence
+may choose to demand? No! gentlemen, sooner would William Berkeley
+remain alone at his post, until his ashes mingled with the ashes of this
+palace, than yield one inch to rebels in arms.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is not necessary,” returned Beverley. “You may escape without loss
+of life or compromise of honour, and reserve until a future day your
+vengeance on these disloyal barbarians.”</p>
+
+<p>Berkeley was silent.</p>
+
+<p>“Look,” continued Beverley, leading the old loyalist to the window which
+overlooked the river; “by the light of dawn you can see the white sails
+of the Adam and Eve, as she rests at anchor in yonder harbor. There is
+still time to escape before the rebels can suspect our design. Once upon
+the deck of that little vessel, with her sails unfurled to this rising
+breeze, you may defy the threats of the besiegers. Then once more to
+your faithful Accomac, and when the forces from England shall arrive,
+trained bands of loyal and brave Britons, your vengeance shall then be
+commensurate with the indignities you have suffered.”</p>
+
+<p>Still Berkeley hesitated, but his friends could see by the quiver of his
+lip, that the struggle was still going on, and that he was thinking with
+grim satisfaction of that promised vengeance.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>“Let me urge you,” continued Beverley, encouraged by the effect which he
+was evidently producing; “let me urge you to a prompt decision. Will you
+remain longer in Jamestown, this nest of traitors, and expose your
+faithful adherents to certain death? Is loyalty so common in Virginia,
+that you will suffer these brave supporters of your cause to be
+sacrificed? Will you leave their wives and daughters, whom they can no
+longer defend, to the insults and outrages of a band of lawless
+adventurers, who have shown that they disregard the rights of men, and
+the more sacred deference due to a woman? We have done all that became
+us, as loyal citizens, to do. We have sustained the standard of the king
+until it were madness, not courage, further to oppose the designs of the
+rebels. Beset by a superior force, and with treason among our own
+citizens, and defection among our own soldiers—with but twenty stout
+hearts still true and faithful to their trust—our alternative is
+between surrender and death on the one hand, and flight and future
+vengeance on the other. Can you longer hesitate between the two? But
+see, the sky grows brighter toward the east, and the morning comes to
+increase the perils of the night. I beseech you, by my loyalty and my
+devotion to your interest, decide quickly and wisely.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will go,” replied Berkeley, after a brief pause, in a voice choking
+with emotion. “But God is my witness, that if I only were concerned,
+rebellion should learn that there was a loyalist who held his sacred
+trust so near his heart, that it could only be yielded with his
+life-blood. But why should I thus boast? Do with me as you please—I
+will go.”</p>
+
+<p>No sooner was Berkeley's final decision known, than the whole palace was
+in a state of preparation. Hurriedly putting up such necessaries as
+would be needed in their temporary exile, the loyalists were soon ready
+for their sudden departure. Lady Frances, stately as ever, remained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>
+perhaps rather longer before her mirror, in the arrangement of her tire,
+than was consistent with their hasty flight. Virginia Temple scarcely
+devoted a moment for her own preparations, so constantly was her
+assistance required by her mother, who bustled about from trunk to
+trunk, in a perfect agony of haste—found she had locked up her mantle,
+which was in the very bottom of an immense trunk, and finally, when she
+had put her spectacles and keys in her pocket, declared that they were
+lost, and required Virginia to search in every hole and corner of the
+room for them. But with all these delays—ever incident to ladies, and
+old ones especially, when starting on a journey—the little party were
+at length announced to be ready for their “moonlight flitting.” Sadly
+and silently they left the palace to darkness and solitude, and
+proceeded towards the river. At the bottom of the garden, which ran down
+to the banks of the river, were two large boats, belonging to the
+Governor, and which were often used in pleasure excursions. In these the
+fugitives embarked, and under the muscular efforts of the strong
+oarsmen, the richly freighted boats scudded rapidly through the water
+towards the good ship “Adam and Eve,” which lay at a considerable
+distance from the shore, to avoid the guns of the insurgents.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred Bernard had the good fortune to have the fair Virginia under his
+immediate charge; but the hearts of both were too full to improve the
+opportunity with much conversation. The young intriguer, who cared but
+little in his selfish heart for either loyalists or rebels, still felt
+that he had placed his venture on a wrong card, and was about to lose.
+The hopes of preferment which he had cherished were about to be
+dissipated by the ill fortune of his patron, and the rival of his love,
+crowned with success, he feared, might yet bear away the prize which he
+had so ardently coveted. Virginia Temple had more generous cause for
+depression than he. Hers was the hard lot to occupy a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> position of
+neutrality in interest between the contending parties. Whichever faction
+in the State succeeded, she must be a mourner; for, in either case, she
+was called upon to sacrifice an idol which she long had cherished, and
+which she must now yield for ever. They sat together near the stern of
+the boat, and watched the moonlight diamonds which sparkled for a moment
+on the white spray that dropped from the dripping oar, and then passed
+away.</p>
+
+<p>“It is thus,” said Bernard, with a heavy sigh. “It is thus with this
+present transient life. We dance for a moment upon the white waves of
+fortune, rejoicing in light and hope and joy—but the great, unfeeling
+world rolls on, regardless of our little life, while we fade even while
+we sparkle, and our places are supplied by others, who in their turn,
+dance and shine, and smile, and pass away, and are forgotten!”</p>
+
+<p>“It is even so,” said Virginia, sadly—then turning her blue eyes
+upward, she added, sweetly, “but see, Mr. Bernard, the moon which shines
+so still and beautiful in heaven, partakes not of the changes of these
+reflected fragments of her brightness. So we, when reunited to the
+heaven from which our spirits came, will shine again unchangeable and
+happy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, my sweet one,” replied her lover passionately, “and were it my
+destiny to be ever thus with you, and to hear the sweet eloquence of
+your pure lips, I would not need a place in heaven to be happy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Bernard,” said Virginia, “is this a time or place to speak thus?
+The circumstances by which we are surrounded should check every selfish
+thought for the time, in our care for the more important interests at
+stake.”</p>
+
+<p>“My fair, young loyalist,” said Bernard, “and is it because of the
+interest excited in your bosom by the fading cause of loyalty, that you
+check so quickly the slightest word of admiration from one whom you have
+called your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> friend? Nay, fair maiden, be truthful even though you
+should be cruel.”</p>
+
+<p>“To be candid, then, Mr. Bernard,” returned Virginia, “I thought we had
+long ago consented not to mention that subject again. I hope you will be
+faithful to your promise.”</p>
+
+<p>“My dearest Virginia, that compact was made when your heart had been
+given to another whom you thought worthy to reign there. Surely, you
+cannot, after the events of to-night oppose such an obstacle to my suit.
+Your gentle heart, my girl, is too pure and holy a shrine to afford
+refuge to a rebel, and a profaner of woman's sacred rights.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Bernard,” said Virginia, “another word on this subject, and I seek
+refuge myself from your insults. You, who are the avowed champion of
+woman's rights, should know that she owns no right so sacred as to
+control the affections of her own heart. I have before told you in terms
+too plain to be misunderstood, that I can never love you. Force me not
+to repeat what you profess may give you pain, and above all force me not
+by your unwelcome and ungenerous assaults upon an absent rival to
+substitute for the real interest which I feel in your happiness, a
+feeling more strong and decided, but less friendly.”</p>
+
+<p>“You mean that you would hate me,” said Bernard, cut to the heart at her
+language, at once so firm and decided, yet so guarded and courteous.
+“Very well,” he added, with an hauteur but illy assumed. “I trust I have
+more independence and self-respect than to intrude my attentions or
+conversation where they are unwelcome. But see, our journey is at an
+end, and though Miss Temple might have made it more pleasant, I am glad
+that we are freed from the embarrassment that we both must feel in a
+more extended interview.”</p>
+
+<p>And now the loud voice of Captain Gardiner is heard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> demanding their
+names and wishes, which are soon told. The hoarse cable grates harshly
+along the ribs of the vessel, and the boats are drawn up close to her
+broadside, and the loyal fugitives ascending the rude and tremulous
+rope-ladder, stand safe and sound upon the deck of the Adam and Eve.</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely had Berkeley and his adherents departed on their flight from
+Jamestown, when some of the disaffected citizens of the town, seeing the
+lights in the palace so suddenly extinguished, shrewdly suspected their
+design. Without staying to ascertain the truth of their suspicions, they
+hastened with the intelligence to General Bacon, and threw open the
+gates to the insurgents. Highly elated with the easy victory they had
+gained over the loyalists, the triumphant patriots forgetting their
+fatigue and hunger, marched into the city, amid the loud acclamations of
+the fickle populace. But to the surprise of all there was still a gloom
+resting upon Bacon and his officers. That cautious and far-seeing man
+saw at a glance, that although he had gained an immense advantage over
+the royalists, in the capture of the metropolis, it was impossible to
+retain it in possession long. As soon as his army was dispersed, or
+engaged in another quarter of the colony, it would be easy for Berkeley,
+with the navy under his command, to return to the place, and erect once
+more the fallen standard of loyalty.</p>
+
+<p>While then, the soldiery were exulting rapturously over their triumph,
+Bacon, surrounded by his officers, was gravely considering the best
+policy to pursue.</p>
+
+<p>“My little army is too small,” he said, “to leave a garrison here, and
+so long as they remain thus organized peace will be banished from the
+colony; and yet I cannot leave the town to become again the harbour of
+these treacherous loyalists.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can suggest no policy that is fit to pursue, in such an emergency,”
+said Hansford, “except to retain possession<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> of the town, at least until
+the Governor is fairly in Accomac again.”</p>
+
+<p>“That, at best,” said Bacon, “will only be a dilatory proceeding, for
+sooner or later, whenever the army is disbanded, the stubborn old
+governor will return and force us to continue the war. And besides I
+doubt whether we could maintain the place with Brent besieging us in
+front, and the whole naval force of Virginia, under the command of such
+expert seamen as Gardiner and Larimore, attacking us from the river. No,
+no, the only way to untie the Gordian knot is to cut it, and the only
+way to extricate ourselves from this difficulty is to burn the town.”</p>
+
+<p>This policy, extreme as it was, in the necessities of their condition
+was received with a murmur of assent. Lawrence and Drummond, devoted
+patriots, and two of the wealthiest and most enterprising citizens of
+the town, evinced their willingness to sacrifice their private means to
+secure the public good, by firing their own houses. Emulating an example
+so noble and disinterested, other citizens followed in their wake. The
+soldiers, ever ready for excitement, joined in the fatal work. A stiff
+breeze springing up, favored their design, and soon the devoted town was
+enveloped in the greedy flames.</p>
+
+<p>From the deck of the Adam and Eve, the loyalists witnessed the stern,
+uncompromising resolution of the rebels. The sun was just rising, and
+his broad, red disc was met in his morning glory with flames as bright
+and as intense as his own. The Palace, the State House, the large Garter
+Tavern, the long line of stores, and the Warehouse, all in succession
+were consumed. The old Church, the proud old Church, where their fathers
+had worshipped, was the last to meet its fate. The fire seemed unwilling
+to attack its sacred walls, but it was to fall with the rest; and as the
+broad sails of the gay vessel were spread to the morning breeze, which
+swelled them, that devoted old Church was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> seen in its raiment of fire,
+like some old martyr, hugging the flames which consumed it, and pointing
+with its tapering steeple to an avenging Heaven.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“We take no note of time but by its loss.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Young.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>It is permitted to the story teller, like the angels of ancient
+metaphysicians, to pass from point to point, and from event to event,
+without traversing the intermediate space or time. A romance thus
+becomes a moving panorama, where the prominent objects of interest pass
+in review before the eyes of the spectator, and not an atlas or chart,
+where the toiling student, with rigid scrutiny must seek the latitude
+and longitude of every object which meets his view.</p>
+
+<p>Availing ourselves of this privilege, we will pass rapidly over the
+events which occurred subsequently to the burning of Jamestown, and
+again resume the narrative where it more directly affects the fortunes
+of Hansford and Virginia. We will then suppose that it is about the
+first of January, 1677, three months after the circumstances detailed in
+the last chapter. Nathaniel Bacon, the arch rebel, as the loyal
+historians and legislators of his day delighted to call him, has passed
+away from the scenes of earth. The damp trenches of Jamestown, more
+fatal than the arms of his adversaries, have stilled the restless
+beating of that bold heart, which in other circumstances might have
+insured success to the cause of freedom. An industrious compiler of the
+laws of Virginia, and an ingenious commentator on her Colonial History,
+has suggested from the phraseology<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> of one of the Acts of the Assembly,
+that Bacon met his fate by the dagger of the assassin, employed by the
+revengeful Berkeley. But the account of his death is too authentic to
+admit of such a supposition, and the character of Sir William Berkeley,
+already clouded with relentless cruelty, is happily freed from the foul
+imputation, that to the prejudices and sternness of the avenging
+loyalist he added the atrocity of a malignant fiend. We have the most
+authentic testimony, that Nathaniel Bacon died of a dysentery,
+contracted by his exposure in the trenches of Jamestown, at the house of
+a Dr. Pate, in the county of Gloucester; and that the faithful Lawrence,
+to screen his insensate clay from the rude vengeance of the Governor,
+gave the young hero a grave in some unknown forest, where after life's
+fitful fever he sleeps well.</p>
+
+<p>The cause of freedom, having lost its head, fell a prey to discord and
+defection. In the selection of a leader to succeed the gallant Bacon,
+dissensions prevailed among the insurgents, and disgusted at last with
+the trials to which they were exposed, and wearied with the continuance
+of a civil war, the great mass of the people retired quietly to their
+homes. Ingram and Walklate, who attempted to revive the smouldering
+ashes of the rebellion, were the embodiments of frivolity and stupidity,
+and were unable to retain that influence over the stern and high-toned
+patriots which was essential to united action. Deprived of their
+support, as may be easily conjectured, there was no longer any
+difficulty in suppressing the ill-fated rebellion; and Walklate,
+foreseeing the consequences of further resistance, resolved to make a
+separate peace for himself and a few personal friends, and to leave his
+more gallant comrades to their fate. The terms of treaty proposed by
+Berkeley were dispatched by Captain Gardiner to the selfish leader, who,
+with the broken remnant of the insurgents, was stationed at West Point.
+He acceded to the terms with avidity, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> thus put a final end to a
+rebellion, which, even at that early day, was so near securing the
+blessings of rational freedom to Virginia.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime, the long expected aid from England had arrived, and Berkeley,
+with an organized and reliable force at his command, prepared, with grim
+satisfaction, to execute his terrible vengeance upon the proscribed and
+fugitive insurgents. Major Beverley, at the head of a considerable
+force, was dispatched in pursuit of such of the unhappy men as might
+linger secreted in the woods and marshes near the river—and smaller
+parties were detailed for the same object in other parts of the colony.
+Many of the fugitives were captured and brought before the relentless
+Governor. There, mocked and insulted in their distress, the devoted
+patriots were condemned by a court martial, and with cruel haste hurried
+to execution. The fate of the gallant Lawrence, to whom incidental
+allusion has been frequently made in the foregoing pages, was long
+uncertain—but at last those interested in his fate were forced to the
+melancholy conclusion, that well nigh reduced to starvation in his
+marshy fastness, with Roman firmness, the brave patriot fell by his own
+hand, rather than submit to the ruthless cruelty of the vindictive
+Governor.</p>
+
+<p>Thomas Hansford was among those who were proscribed fugitives from the
+vengeance of the loyalists. He had in vain endeavoured to rally the
+dispirited insurgents, and to hazard once more the event of a battle
+with the royal party. He indignantly refused to accept the terms, so
+readily embraced by Walklate, and determined to share the fate of those
+brave comrades, in whose former triumph he had participated. And now, a
+lonely wanderer, he eluded the vigilant pursuit of his enemies, awaiting
+with anxiety, the respite which royal interposition would grant, to the
+unabating vengeance of the governor. He was not without strong hope that
+the clemency which reflected honour on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> Charles the Second, towards the
+enemies of his father, would be extended to the promoters of the
+ill-fated rebellion in Virginia. In default of this, he trusted to make
+his escape into Maryland, after the eagerness of pursuit was over, and
+there secretly to embark for England—where, under an assumed name, he
+might live out the remnant of his days in peace and security, if not in
+happiness. It was with a heavy heart that he looked forward to even this
+remote chance of escape and safety—for it involved the necessity of
+leaving, for ever, his widowed mother, who leaned upon his strong arm
+for support; and his beloved Virginia, in whose smiles of favour, he
+could alone be happy. Still, it was the only honourable chance that
+offered, and while as a brave man he had nerved himself for any fate, as
+a good man, he could not reject the means of safety which were extended
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>While these important changes were taking place in the political world,
+the family at Windsor Hall were differently affected by the result.
+Colonel Temple, in the pride of his gratified loyalty, could not
+disguise his satisfaction even from his unhappy daughter, and rubbed his
+hands gleefully as the glad tidings came that the rebellion had been
+quelled. The old lady shared his happiness with all her heart, but
+mingled with her joy some of the harmless vanity of her nature. She
+attributed the happy result in a good degree to the counsel and wisdom
+of her husband, and recurred with great delight to her own bountiful
+hospitality to the fugitive loyalists. Nay, in the excess of her
+self-gratulation, she even hinted an opinion, that if Colonel Temple had
+remained in England, the cause of loyalty would have been much advanced,
+and that General Monk would not have borne away the palm of having
+achieved the glorious restoration.</p>
+
+<p>But these loyal sentiments of gratulation met with no response in the
+heart of Virginia Temple. The exciting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> scenes through which she had
+lately passed had left their traces on her young heart. No more the
+laughing, thoughtless, happy girl whom we have known, shedding light and
+gaiety on all around her, she had gained, in the increased strength and
+development of her character, much to compensate for the loss. The
+furnace which evaporates the lighter particles of the ore, leaves the
+precious metal in their stead. Thus is it with the trying furnace of
+affliction in the formation of the human character, and such was its
+effect upon Virginia. She no longer thought or felt as a girl. She felt
+that she was a woman, called upon to act a woman's part; and relying on
+her strengthened nature, but more upon the hand whose protection she had
+early learned to seek, she was prepared to act that part. The fate of
+Hansford was unknown to her. She had neither seen nor heard from him
+since that awful night, when she parted from him at the gate of
+Jamestown. Convinced of his high sense of honour, and his heroic daring,
+she knew that he was the last to desert a falling cause, and she
+trembled for his life, should he fall into the hands of the enraged and
+relentless Berkeley. But even if her fears in this respect were
+groundless, the future was still dark to her. The bright dream which she
+had cherished, that he to whom, in the trusting truth of her young
+heart, she had plighted her troth, would share with her the joys and
+hopes of life, was now, alas! dissipated forever. A proscribed rebel, an
+outcast from home, her father's loyal prejudices were such that she
+could never hope to unite her destiny with Hansford. And yet, dreary as
+the future had become, she bore up nobly in the struggle, and, with
+patient submission, resigned her fate to the will of Heaven.</p>
+
+<p>Her chief employment now was to train the mind of the young Mamalis to
+truth, and in this sacred duty she derived new consolation in her
+affliction. The young Indian girl had made Windsor Hall her home since
+the death of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> brother. The generous nature of Colonel Temple could
+not refuse to the poor orphan, left alone on earth without a protector,
+a refuge and a home beneath his roof. Nor were the patient and prayerful
+instructions of Virginia without their reward. The light which had long
+been struggling to obtain an entrance to her heart, now burst forth in
+the full effulgence of the truth, and the trusting Mamalis had felt, in
+all its beauty and reality, the assurance of the promise, “Come unto me
+all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Her
+manners, which, with all of her association with Virginia, had something
+of the wildness of the savage, were now softened and subdued. Her
+picturesque but wild costume, which reminded her of her former life, was
+discarded for the more modest dress which the refinement of civilization
+had prescribed. Her fine, expressive countenance, which had often been
+darkened by reflecting the wild passions of her unsubdued heart, was now
+radiant with peaceful joy; and as you gazed upon the softened
+expression, the tranquil and composed bearing of the young girl, you
+might well “take knowledge of her that she had been with Jesus.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>”</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Farewell and blessings on thy way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where'r thou goest, beloved stranger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Better to sit and watch that ray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And think thee safe though far away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Than have thee near me and in danger.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i26"><i>Lalla Roohk.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>Moonlight at Windsor Hall! The waning, January moon shone coldly and
+brightly, as it rose above the dense forest which surrounded the once
+more peaceful home of Colonel Temple. The tall poplars which shaded the
+quiet yard were silvered with its light, and looked like medieval
+knights all clad in burnished and glistening mail. The crisp hoarfrost
+that whitened the frozen ground sparkled in the mellow beams, like
+twinkling stars, descended to earth, and drinking in with rapture the
+clear light of their native heaven. Not a sound was heard save the
+dreary, wintry blast, as it sighed its mournful requiem over the dead
+year, “gone from the earth for ever.”</p>
+
+<p>Virginia Temple had not yet retired to rest, although it was growing
+late. She was sitting alone, in her little chamber, and watching the
+glowing embers on the hearth, as they sparkled for a moment, and shed a
+ruddy light around, and then were extinguished, throwing the whole room
+into dark shadow. Sad emblem, these fleeting sparks, of the hopes that
+had once been bright before her, assuming fancied shapes of future joy
+and peace and love, and then dying to leave her sad heart the darker for
+their former presence. In the solitude of her own thoughts she was
+taking a calm review of her past life—her early childhood—when she
+played in innocent mirth beneath the shade of the oaks and poplars that
+still stood unchanged in the yard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>her first acquaintance with Hansford,
+which opened a new world to her young heart, replete with joys and
+treasures unknown before—all the thrilling events of the last few
+months—her last meeting with her lover, and his prayer that she at
+least would not censure him, when he was gone—her present despondency
+and gloom—all these thoughts came in slow and solemn procession across
+her mind, like dreary ghosts of the buried past.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she was startled from her reverie by the sound of a low, sweet,
+familiar voice, beneath her window, and, as she listened, the melancholy
+spirit of the singer sought and found relief in the following tender
+strains:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Once more I seek thy quiet home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My tale of love to tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Once more from danger's field I come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To breathe a last farewell!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Though hopes are flown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Though friends are gone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet wheresoe'r I flee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">I still retain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And hug the chain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which binds my soul to thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“My heart, like some lone chamber left,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Must, mouldering, fall at last;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of hope, of love, of thee bereft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It lives but in the past.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With jealous care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">I cherish there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The web, however small,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">That memory weaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And mercy leaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Upon that ruined wall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Though Tyranny, with bloody laws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May dig my early grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet death, when met in Freedom's cause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is sweetest to the brave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Wedded to her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Without a fear,<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">I'll mount her funeral pile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Welcome the death<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Which seals my faith,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And meet it with a smile.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“While, like the tides, that softly swell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To kiss their mother moon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy gentle soul will soar to dwell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In visions with mine own;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">As skies distil<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The dews that fill<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The blushing rose at even,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">So blest above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">I'll mourn thy love<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And weep for thee in heaven.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It needed not the well-known voice of Hansford to assure the weeping
+girl that he was near her. The burden of that sad song, which found an
+echo in her own heart, told her too plainly that it could be only he. It
+was no time for delicate scruples of propriety. She only knew that he
+was near her and in danger. Rising from her chair, and throwing around
+her a shawl to protect her from the chill night air, she hastened to the
+door. In another moment they were in each other's arms.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, my own Virginia,” said Hansford, “this is too, too kind. I had only
+thought to come and breathe a last farewell, and then steal from your
+presence for ever. I felt that it was a privilege to be near you, to
+watch, unseen, the flickering light reflected from your presence. This
+itself had been reward sufficient for the peril I encounter. How sweet
+then to hear once more the accents of your voice, and to feel once more
+the warm beating of your faithful heart.”</p>
+
+<p>“And could you think,” said Virginia, as she wept upon his shoulder,
+“that knowing you to be in danger, I could fail to see you. Oh,
+Hansford! you little know the truth of woman's love if you can for a
+moment doubt that your misfortune and your peril have made you doubly
+dear.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>“Yet how brief must be my stay. The avenger is behind me, and I must
+soon resume my lonely wandering.”</p>
+
+<p>“And will you again leave me?” asked Virginia, in a reproachful tone.</p>
+
+<p>“Leave you, dearest, oh, how sweet would be my fate, after all my cares
+and sufferings, if I could but die here. But this must not be. Though I
+trust I know how to meet death as a brave man, yet it is my duty, as a
+good man, to leave no honourable means untried to save my life.”</p>
+
+<p>“But your danger cannot be so great, dearest,” said Virginia, tenderly.
+“Surely my father—”</p>
+
+<p>“Would feel it his duty,” said Hansford, interrupting her, “to deliver
+me up to justice; and feeling it to be such, he would have the moral
+firmness to discharge it. Poor old gentleman! like many of his party,
+his prejudice perverts his true and generous heart. My poor country must
+suffer long before she can overcome the opposition of bigoted loyalty.
+Forgive me for speaking thus of your noble father, Virginia—but
+prejudices like these are the thorns which spring up in his heart and
+choke the true word of freedom, and render it unfruitful. Is it not so,
+dearest?”</p>
+
+<p>“You mistake his generous nature,” said Virginia, earnestly. “You
+mistake his love for me. You mistake his sound judgment. You mistake his
+high sense of honour. Think you that he sees no difference between the
+man who, impelled by principle, asserts what he believes to be a right,
+and him, who for his own selfish ends and personal advancement, would
+sacrifice his country. Yes, my dear friend, you mistake my father. He
+will gladly interpose with the Governor and restore you to happiness, to
+freedom, and to—”</p>
+
+<p>She paused, unable to proceed for the sobs that choked her utterance,
+and then gave vent to a flood of passionate grief.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>“You would add, 'and to thee,'” said Hansford, finishing the sentence.
+“God knows, my girl, that such a hope would make me dare more peril than
+I have yet encountered. But, alas! if it were even as you say, what
+weight would his remonstrance have with that imperious old tyrant,
+Berkeley? It would be but the thistle-down against the cannon ball in
+the scales of his justice.”</p>
+
+<p>“He dare not refuse my father's demands,” said Virginia. “One who has
+been so devoted to his cause, who has sacrificed so much for his king,
+and who has afforded shelter and protection to the Governor himself in
+the hour of his peril and need, is surely entitled to this poor favour
+at his hands. He dare not refuse to grant it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Alas! Virginia, you little know the character of Sir William Berkeley,
+when you say he dares not. But the very qualities which you claim, and
+justly claim, for your father, would prevent him from exerting that
+influence with the Governor which your hopes whisper would be so
+successful—'His noble nature' would prompt him at any sacrifice to
+yield personal feeling to a sense of public duty. 'His love for you'
+would prompt him to rescue you from the <i>rebel</i> who dared aspire to your
+hand. 'His sound judgment' would dictate the maxim, that it were well
+for one man to die for the people; and his 'high sense of honour' would
+prevent him from interposing between a condemned <i>traitor</i> and his
+deserved doom. Be assured, Virginia, that thus would your father reason;
+and with his views of loyalty and justice, I could not blame him for the
+conclusion to which he came.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then in God's name,” cried Virginia, in an agony of desperation, for
+she saw the force of Hansford's views, “how can you shun this
+threatening danger? Whither can you fly?”</p>
+
+<p>“My only hope,” said Hansford, gloomily, “is to leave the Colony and
+seek refuge in Maryland, though I fear that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> this is hopeless. If I fail
+in this, then I must lurk in some hiding place until instructions from
+England may arrive, and check the vindictive Berkeley in his ruthless
+cruelty.”</p>
+
+<p>“And is there a hope of that!” said Virginia, quickly.</p>
+
+<p>“There is a faint hope, and that slender thread is all that hangs
+between me and a traitor's doom. But I rely with some confidence upon
+the mild and humane policy pursued by Charles toward the enemies of his
+father. At any rate, it is all that is left me, and you know the
+proverb,” he added, with a sad smile, “'A drowning man catches at
+straws.' Any chance, however slight, appears larger when seen through
+the gloom of approaching despair, just as any object seems greater when
+seen through a mist.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is not, it shall not be slight,” said the hopeful girl, “we will lay
+hold upon it with firm and trusting hearts, and it will cheer us in our
+weary way, and then—”</p>
+
+<p>But here the conversation was interrupted by the sound of approaching
+footsteps, and the light, graceful form of Mamalis stood before them.
+The quick ear of the Indian girl had caught the first low notes of
+Hansford's serenade, even while she slept, and listening attentively to
+the sound, she had heard Virginia leave the room and go down stairs.
+Alarmed at her prolonged absence, Mamalis could no longer hesitate on
+the propriety of ascertaining its cause, and hastily dressing herself,
+she ran down to the open door and joined the lovers as we have stated.</p>
+
+<p>“We are discovered,” said Hansford, in a surprised but steady voice.
+“Farewell, Virginia.” And he was about to rush from the place, when
+Virginia interposed.</p>
+
+<p>“Fear nothing from her,” she said. “Her trained ear caught the sounds of
+our voices more quickly than could the duller senses of the European.
+You are in no danger; and her opportune presence suggests a plan for
+your escape.”</p>
+
+<p>“What is that?” asked Hansford, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>“First tell me,” said Virginia, “how long it will probably be before the
+milder policy of Charles will arrest the Governor in his vengeance.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is impossible to guess with accuracy—if, indeed, it ever should
+come. But the king has heard for some time of the suppression of the
+enterprise, and it can scarcely be more than two weeks before we hear
+from him. But to what does your question tend?”</p>
+
+<p>“Simply this,” returned Virginia. “The wigwam of Mamalis is only about
+two miles from the hall, and in so secluded a spot that it is entirely
+unknown to any of the Governor's party. There we can supply your present
+wants, and give you timely warning of any approaching danger. The old
+wigwam is a good deal dilapidated, but then it will at least afford you
+shelter from the weather.”</p>
+
+<p>“And from that ruder storm which threatens me,” said Hansford, gloomily.
+“You are right. I know the place well, and trust it may be a safe
+retreat, at least for the present. But, alas! how sad is my fate,—to be
+skulking from justice like a detected thief or murderer, afraid to show
+my face to my fellow in the open day, and starting like a frightened
+deer at every approaching sound. Oh, it is too horrible!”</p>
+
+<p>“Think not of it thus,” said Virginia, in an encouraging voice.
+“Remember it only as the dull twilight that divides the night from the
+morning. This painful suspense will soon be over; and then, safe and
+happy, we will smile at the dangers we have passed.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, Virginia,” said Hansford, in the same gloomy voice, “you are too
+hopeful. There is a whispering voice within that tells me that this plan
+will not succeed, and that we cannot avoid the dangers which threaten
+me. No,” he cried, throwing off the gloom which hung over him, while his
+fine blue eye flashed with pride. “No! The decree has gone forth! Every
+truth must succeed with blood.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> If the blood of the martyrs be the seed
+of the Church, it may also enrich the soil where liberty must grow; and
+far rather would I that my blood should be shed in such a cause, than
+that it should creep sluggishly in my veins through a long and useless
+life, until it clotted and stagnated in an ignoble grave.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, there spoke that fearful pride again,” said Virginia, with a deep
+sigh; “the pride that pursues its mad career, unheeding prudence,
+unguided by judgment, until it is at last checked by its own
+destruction. And would you not sacrifice the glory that you speak of,
+for me?”</p>
+
+<p>“You have long since furnished me the answer to that plea, my girl,” he
+replied, pressing her tenderly to his heart. “Do you remember, Lucasta,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'I had not loved thee, dear, so much,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Loved I not honour more.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Believe me, my Virginia, it is an honourable and not a glorious name I
+seek. Without the latter, life still would be happy and blessed when
+adorned by your smiles. Without the former, your smile and your love
+would add bitterness to the cup that dishonour would bid me quaff. And
+now, Virginia, farewell. The night air has chilled you, dearest—then
+go, and remember me in your dreams. One fond kiss, to keep virgined upon
+my lips till we meet again. Farewell, Mamalis—be faithful to your kind
+mistress.” And then imprinting one long, last kiss upon the fair cheek
+of the trusting Virginia, he turned from the door, and was soon lost
+from their sight in the dense forest.</p>
+
+<p>Once more in her own little room, Virginia, with a grateful heart, fell
+upon her knees, and poured forth her thanks to Him, who had thus far
+prospered her endeavours to minister to the cares and sorrows of her
+lover. With a calmer heart she sought repose, and wept herself to sleep
+with almost happy tears. Hansford, in the mean time,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> pursued his quiet
+way through the forest, his pathway sufficiently illumined by the pale
+moonlight, which came trembling through the moaning trees. The thoughts
+of the young rebel were fitfully gloomy or pleasant, as despondency and
+hope alternated in his breast. In that lonely walk he had an opportunity
+to reflect calmly and fully upon his past life. The present was indeed
+clouded with danger, and the future with uncertainty and gloom. Yet, in
+this self-examination, he saw nothing to justify reproach or to awaken
+regret. He scanned his motives, and he felt that they were pure. He
+reviewed his acts, and he saw in them but the struggles of a brave, free
+man in the maintenance of the right. The enterprise in which he had
+engaged had indeed failed, but its want of success did not affect the
+holiness of the design. Even in its failure, he proudly hoped that the
+seeds of truth had been sown in the popular mind, which might hereafter
+germinate and be developed into freedom. As these thoughts passed
+through his mind, a dim dream of the future glories of his country
+flashed across him. The bright heaven of the future seemed to open
+before him, as before the eyes of the dying Stephen—but soon it closed
+again, and all was dark.</p>
+
+<p>The wigwam which he entered, after a walk of about half an hour, was
+desolate enough, but its very loneliness made it a better safeguard
+against the vigilance of his pursuers. He closed the aperture which
+served for the door, with the large mat used for the purpose; then
+carefully priming his pistols, which he kept constantly by him in case
+of surprise, and wrapping his rough horseman's coat around him, he flung
+himself upon a mat in the centre of the wigwam, and sank into a profound
+slumber.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a>CHAPTER XL.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“He should be hereabouts. The doubling hare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When flying from the swift pursuit of hounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Baying loud triumph, leaves her wonted path,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seeks security within her nest.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i24"><i>The Captive.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>On the evening which followed the events narrated in the last chapter, a
+party of half a dozen horsemen might be seen riding leisurely along the
+road which led to Windsor Hall. From their dress and bearing they might
+at once be recognized as military men, and indeed it was a detachment of
+the force sent by Sir William Berkeley in search of such of the rebels
+as might be lurking in different sections of the country. At their head
+was Alfred Bernard, his tall and graceful form well set off by the
+handsome military dress of the period. Dignified by a captaincy of
+dragoons, the young intriguer at last thought himself on the high road
+to success, and his whole course was marked by a zealous determination
+to deserve by his actions the confidence reposed in him. For this his
+temper and his cold, selfish nature eminently fitted him. The vindictive
+Governor had no fear but that his vengeance would be complete, so long
+as Alfred Bernard acted as his agent.</p>
+
+<p>As the party approached the house, Colonel Temple, whose attention was
+arrested by such an unusual appearance in the then peaceful state of the
+country, came out to meet them, and with his usual bland courtesy
+invited them in, at the same time shaking Bernard warmly by the hand.
+The rough English soldiers, obeying the instructions of their host,
+conducted their horses to the stable, while the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> young captain followed
+his hospitable entertainer into the hall. Around the blazing fire, which
+crackled and roared in the broad hearth, the little family were gathered
+to hear the news.</p>
+
+<p>“Prythee, Captain Bernard, for I must not forget your new title,” said
+the colonel, “what is the cause of this demonstration? No further
+trouble with the rebels?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no,” replied Bernard, “except to smoke the cowardly fellows out of
+their holes. In the words of your old bard, we have only scotched the
+snake, not killed it—and we are now seeking to bring the knaves to
+justice.”</p>
+
+<p>“And do you find them difficult to catch?” said the Colonel. “Is the
+scotched snake an 'anguis in herba?'”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, but they cannot escape us. These worshippers of liberty, who would
+fain be martyrs to her cause, shall not elude the vigilance of justice.
+I need not add, that you are not the object of our search, Colonel.”</p>
+
+<p>“Scarcely, my lad,” returned Temple, with a smile, “for my mythology has
+taught me, that these kindred deities are so nearly allied that the true
+votaries of liberty will ever be pilgrims to the shrine of justice.”</p>
+
+<p>“And the pseudo votaries of freedom,” continued Bernard, “who would
+divide the sister goddesses, should be offered up as a sacrifice to
+appease the neglected deity.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, maybe so,” returned Temple; “but neither religion nor government
+should demand human sacrifices to a great extent. A few of the prominent
+leaders might well be cut off to strike terror into the hearts of the
+rest. Thus the demands of justice would be satisfied, consistently with
+clemency which mercy would dictate.”</p>
+
+<p>“My dear sir, a hecatomb would not satisfy Berkeley. I am but his
+minister, and could not, if I would, arrest his arm. Even now I come by
+his express directions to ascertain whether any of the rebels may be
+secreted near your residence. While he does not for a moment suspect
+your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> loyalty, yet one of the villains, and he among the foremost in the
+rebellion, has been traced in this direction.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sir,” cried Temple, colouring with honest indignation; “dare you
+suspect that I could harbour a rebel beneath my roof! But remember, that
+I would as lief do that, abhorrent though it be to my principles, as to
+harbour a spy.”</p>
+
+<p>“My dear sir,” said Bernard, softly, “you mistake me most strangely, if
+you suppose that I could lodge such a suspicion for a moment in my
+heart; nor have I come as a spy upon your privacy, but to seek your
+counsel. Sir William Berkeley is so well convinced of your stern and
+unflinching faith, that he enjoins me to apply to you early for advice
+as to how I should proceed in my duty.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, my dear boy,” said Temple, relapsing into good humour, for he was
+not proof against the tempting bait of flattery, “you must pardon the
+haste of an old man, who cannot bear any imputation upon his devotion to
+the cause of his royal master. While I cannot aid you in your search, my
+house is freely open to yourself and your party for such time as you may
+think proper to use it.”</p>
+
+<p>“You have my thanks, my dear sir,” said Bernard, “and indeed you are
+entitled to the gratitude of the whole government. Sir William Berkeley
+bade me say that he could never forget your kindness to him and his
+little band of fugitives; and Lady Frances often says that she scarcely
+regrets the cares and anxiety attending her flight, since they afforded
+her an opportunity of enjoying the society of Mrs. Temple in her own
+home, where she so especially shines.”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed, we thank them both most cordially,” said Mrs. Temple. “It was a
+real pleasure to us to have them, I am sure; and though we hardly had
+time to make them as comfortable as they might have been, yet a poor
+feast, seasoned with a warm welcome, is fit for a king.”</p>
+
+<p>“I trust,” said Bernard, “that Miss Virginia unites with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> you in the
+interest which you profess in the cause of loyalty. May I hope, that
+should it ever be our fortune again to be thrown like stranded wrecks
+upon your hospitality, her welcome will not be wanting to our
+happiness.”</p>
+
+<p>“It will always give me pleasure,” said Virginia, “to welcome the guests
+of my parents, and to add, as far as I can, to their comfort, whoever
+they may be—more particularly when those guests are among my own
+special friends.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of which number I am proud to consider myself, though unworthy of such
+an honour,” said Bernard. “But excuse me for a few moments, ladies, I
+have somewhat to say to my sergeant before dinner. I will return
+anon—as soon as possible; but you know, Colonel, duty should ever be
+first served, and afterwards pleasure may be indulged. Duty is the prim
+old wife, who must be duly attended to, and then Pleasure, the fair
+young damsel, may claim her share of our devotion. Aye, Colonel?”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, if you enter the marriage state with such ideas of its duties as
+that,” returned the Colonel, smiling, “I rather think you will have a
+troublesome career before you. But your maxim is true, though clothed in
+an allegory a little too licentious. So, away with you, my boy, and
+return as soon as you can, for I have much to ask you.”</p>
+
+<p>Released from the restraints imposed by the presence of the Colonel and
+the ladies, Bernard rubbed his hands and chuckled inwardly as he went in
+search of his sergeant.</p>
+
+<p>“I am pretty sure we are on the right scent, Holliday,” he said,
+addressing a tall, strapping old soldier of about six feet in height.
+“This prejudiced old steed seemed disposed to kick before he was
+spurred—and, indeed, if he knew nothing himself, there is a pretty
+little hind here, who I'll warrant is not so ignorant of the
+hiding-place of her young hart.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I tell you what, Cap'n, it's devilish hard to worm a secret out of
+these women kind. They'll tell any body<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> else's secret, fast enough, but
+d—n me if it don't seem as how they only do that to give more room to
+keep their own.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, we must try at any rate. It is not for you to oppose with your
+impertinent objections what I may choose order. I hope you are soldier
+enough to have learned that it is only your duty to obey.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! yes, Cap'n. I've learned that lesson long ago—and what's more, I
+learned it on horseback, but, faith, it was one of those wooden steeds
+that made me do all the travelling. Why, Lord bless me, to obey! It's
+one of my ten commandments. I've got it written in stripes that's
+legible on my shoulders now. 'Obey your officers in all things that your
+days may be long and your back unskinned.'”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, stop your intolerable nonsense,” said Bernard, “and hear what I
+would say. We stay here to-night. There is an Indian girl who lives
+here, a kind of upper servant. You must manage to see her and talk with
+her. But mind, nothing of our object, or your tongue shall be blistered
+for it. Tell her that I wish to see her, beneath the old oak tree to
+night, at ten o'clock. If she refuses, tell her to 'remember
+Berkenhead.' These words will act as a charm upon her. Remember—Hush,
+here comes the Colonel.”</p>
+
+<p>It will be remembered by the reader that the magic of these two words,
+which were to have such an influence upon the young Mamalis, was due to
+the shrewd suspicion of Alfred Bernard, insinuated at the time, that she
+was the assassin of the ill-fated Berkenhead. By holding this simple
+rod, <i>in terrorem</i>, over the poor girl, Bernard now saw that he might
+wield immense power over her, and if the secret of Hansford's
+hiding-place had been confided to her, he might easily extort it either
+by arousing her vengeance once more, or in default of that by a menace
+of exposure and punishment for the murder. But first he determined to
+see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> Virginia, and make his peace with her; and under the plausible
+guise of sympathy in her distress and pity for Hansford, to excite in
+her an interest in his behalf, even while he was plotting the ruin of
+her lover.</p>
+
+<p>With his usual pliancy of manner, and control over his feelings, he
+engaged in conversation with Colonel Temple, humouring the well-known
+prejudices of the old gentleman, and by a little dexterous flattery
+winning over the unsuspicious old lady to his favor. Even Virginia,
+though her heart misgave her from the first that the arrival of Bernard
+boded no good to her lover, was deceived by his plausible manners and
+attracted by his brilliant conversation. So the tempter, with the
+graceful crest, and beautiful colours of the subtle serpent beguiled Eve
+far more effectually, than if in his own shape he had attempted to
+convince her by the most specious sophisms.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a>CHAPTER XLI.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Was ever woman in this humour wooed?”<br /></span>
+<span class="i28"><i>Richard III.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>Dinner being over, the gentlemen remained according to the good old
+custom, to converse over their wine, while Virginia retired to the quiet
+little parlour, and with some favourite old author tried to beguile her
+thoughts from the bitter fears which she felt for the safety of
+Hansford. But it was all in vain. Her eyes often wandered from her book,
+and fixed upon the blazing, hickory fire, she was lost in a painful
+reverie. As she weighed in her mind the many chances in favour of, and
+against his escape, she turned in her trouble<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> to Him, who alone could
+rescue her, and with the tears streaming down her pale cheeks, she
+murmured in bitter accents, “Oh, Lord! in Thee have I trusted, let me
+never be confounded.” Even while she spoke, she was surprised to hear
+immediately behind her, the well-known voice of Alfred Bernard, for so
+entirely lost had she been in meditation that she had not heard his step
+as he entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>“Miss Temple, and in tears!” he said, with well assumed surprise. “What
+can have moved you thus, Virginia?”</p>
+
+<p>“Alas! Mr. Bernard, you who have known my history and my troubles for
+the last few bitter months, cannot be ignorant that I have much cause
+for sadness. But,” she added, with a faint attempt to smile, “had I
+known of your presence, I would not have sought to entertain you with my
+sorrows.”</p>
+
+<p>“The troubles that you speak of are passed, Miss Temple,” said Bernard,
+affecting to misunderstand her, “and as the Colony begins to smile again
+in the beams of returning peace, you, fair Virginia, should also smile
+in sympathy with your namesake.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mr. Bernard, you must jest. You at least should have known, ere this,
+that my individual sorrows are not so dependent upon the political
+condition of the Colony. You at least should have known, sir, that the
+very peace you boast of may be the knell of hopes more dear to a woman's
+heart than even the glory and welfare of her country.”</p>
+
+<p>“Miss Temple,” returned Bernard, with a grave voice, “since you are
+determined to treat seriously what I have said, I will change my tone.
+Though you choose to doubt my sincerity, I must express the deep
+sympathy which I feel in your sorrows, even though I know that these
+sorrows are induced by your apprehensions for the fate of a rival.”</p>
+
+<p>“And that sympathy, sir, is illustrated by your present actions,” said
+Virginia, bitterly. “You would be at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> same time the Judean robber
+and the good Samaritan, and while inflicting a deadly wound upon your
+victim, and stripping him of cherished hopes, you would administer the
+oil and wine of your mocking sympathy.”</p>
+
+<p>“I might choose to misunderstand your unkind allusions, Miss Temple,”
+replied Bernard, “but there is no need of concealment between us. You
+have rightly judged the object of my mission, but in this I act as the
+officer of government, not as the ungenerous rival of Major Hansford.”</p>
+
+<p>“So does the public executioner,” replied Virginia, “but I am not aware
+that in its civil and military departments as well as in the navy, our
+government impresses men into her service against their will.”</p>
+
+<p>“You seem determined to misunderstand me, Virginia,” said Alfred, with
+some warmth; “but you shall learn that I am not capable of the want of
+generosity which you attribute to me. Know then, that it was from a
+desire to serve you personally through your friend, that I urged the
+governor to let me come in pursuit of Major Hansford. Suppose, instead,
+he should fall in the hands of Beverley. Cruel and relentless as that
+officer has already shown himself to be, his prisoner would suffer every
+indignity and persecution, even before he was delivered to the tender
+mercies of Sir William Berkeley—while in me, as his captor, you may
+rest assured that for your sake, he would meet with kindness and
+indulgence, and even my warm mediation with the governor in his behalf.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, then,” cried Virginia, trusting words so softly and plausibly
+spoken, “if you are indeed impelled by a motive so generous and
+disinterested, it is still in your power to save him. Your influence
+with the Governor is known, and one word from your lips might control
+the fate of a brave man, and restore happiness and peace to a
+broken-hearted girl. Oh! would not this amply compensate even for the
+neglect of duty? Would it not be far nobler to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> secure the happiness of
+two grateful hearts, than to shed the blood of a brave and generous man,
+and to wade through that red stream to success and fame? Believe me, Mr.
+Bernard, when you come to die, the recollection of such an act will be
+sweeter to your soul than all the honour and glory which an admiring
+posterity could heap above your cold, insensate ashes. If I am any thing
+to you; if my happiness would be an object of interest to your heart;
+and if my love, my life-long love, would be worthy of your acceptance,
+they are yours. Forgive the boldness, the freedom with which I have
+spoken. It may be unbecoming in a young girl, but let it be another
+proof of the depth, the sincerity of my feelings, when I can forget a
+maiden's delicacy in the earnestness of my plea.”</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible not to be moved with the earnest and touching manner
+of the weeping girl, as with clasped hands and streaming eyes, she
+almost knelt to Bernard in the fervent earnestness of her feelings.
+Machiavellian as he was, and accustomed to disguise his heart, the young
+man was for a moment almost dissuaded from his design. Taking Virginia
+gently by the hand, he begged her to be calm. But the feeling of
+generosity which for a moment gleamed on his heart, like a brief sunbeam
+on a stormy day, gave way to the wonted selfishness with which that
+heart was clouded.</p>
+
+<p>“And can you still cling with such tenacity to a man who has proven
+himself so unworthy of you,” he said; “to one who has long since
+sacrificed you to his own fanatical purposes. Even should he escape the
+fate which awaits him, he can never be yours. Your own independence of
+feeling, your father's prejudices, every thing conspires to prevent a
+union so unnatural. Hansford may live, but he can never live to be your
+husband.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who empowered you to prohibit thus boldly the bans<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> between us, and to
+dissolve our plighted troth?” said Virginia, with indignation.</p>
+
+<p>“You again mistake me,” replied Bernard. “God forbid that I should thus
+intrude upon what surely concerns me not. I only expressed, my dear
+friend, what you know full well, that whatever be the fate of Major
+Hansford, you can never marry him. Why, then, this strange interest in
+his fate?”</p>
+
+<p>“And can you think thus of woman's love? Can you suppose that her heart
+is so selfish that, because her own cherished hopes are blasted, she can
+so soon forget and coldly desert one who has first awakened those sweet
+hopes, and who is now in peril? Believe me, Mr. Bernard, dear as I hold
+that object to my soul, sad and weary as life would be without one who
+had made it so happy, I would freely, aye, almost cheerfully yield his
+love, and be banished for ever from his presence, if I could but save
+his life.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are a noble girl,” said Alfred, with admiration; “and teach me a
+lesson that too few have learned, that love is never selfish. But, yet,
+I cannot relinquish the sweet reward which you have promised for my
+efforts in behalf of Hansford. Then tell me once more, dear girl, if I
+arrest the hand of justice which now threatens his life; if he be once
+more restored to liberty and security, would you reward his deliverer
+with your love?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes!” cried the trusting girl, mistaking his meaning; “and more, I
+would pledge his lasting gratitude and affection to his generous
+preserver.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay,” said Bernard, rather coldly, “that would not add much inducement
+to me. But you, Virginia,” he added, passionately, “would you be
+mine—would the bright dream of my life be indeed realized, and might I
+enshrine you in my faithful heart, as a sacred idol, to whom in hourly
+adoration I might bow?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>“How mean you, sir,” exclaimed Virginia, with surprise. “I fear you have
+misunderstood my words. My love, my gratitude, my friendship, I
+promised, but not my heart.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then, indeed, am I strangely at fault,” said Bernard, with a sneering
+laugh. “The love you would bestow, would be such as you would feel
+towards the humblest boor, who had done you a service; and your
+gratitude but the natural return which any human being would make to the
+dog who saves his life. Nay, mistress mine, not so platonic, if you
+please. Think you that, for so cold a feeling as friendship and
+gratitude, I would rescue this skulking hound from the lash of his
+master, which he so richly deserves, or from the juster doom of the
+craven cur, the rope and gallows. No, Virginia Temple, there is no
+longer any need of mincing matters between us. It is a simple question
+of bargain and sale. You have said that you would renounce the love of
+Hansford to save his life. Very well, one step more and all is
+accomplished. The boon I ask, as the reward of my services, is your
+heart, or at least your hand. Yield but this, and I will arrest the
+malice of that doting old knight, who, with his fantastic tricks, has
+made the angels laugh instead of weep. Deny me, and by my troth, Thomas
+Hansford meets a traitor's doom.”</p>
+
+<p>So complete was the revulsion of feeling from the almost certainty of
+success, to the despair and indignation induced by so base a
+proposition, that it was some moments before Virginia Temple could
+speak. Bernard mistaking the cause of her silence, deemed that she was
+hesitating as to her course, and pursuing his supposed advantage, he
+added, tenderly,—“Cheer, up Virginia; cheer up, my bride. I read in
+those silent tears your answer. I know the struggle is hard, and I love
+you the more that it is so. It is an earnest of your future constancy.
+In a short time the trial will be over, and we will learn to forget our
+sorrows in our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> love. He who is so unworthy of you will have sought in
+some distant land solace for your loss, which will be easily attained by
+his pliant nature. A traitor to his country, will not long mourn the
+loss of his bride.”</p>
+
+<p>“'Tis thou who art the traitor, dissembling hypocrite,” cried Virginia,
+vehemently. “Think you that my silence arose from a moment's
+consideration of your base proposition? I was stunned at beholding such
+a monster in the human form. But I defy you yet. The governor shall
+learn how the fawning favourite of his palace, tears the hand that feeds
+him—and those who can protect me from your power, shall chastise your
+insolence. Instead of the love and gratitude I promised, there, take my
+lasting hate and scorn.”</p>
+
+<p>And the young girl proudly rising erect as she spoke, her eyes flashing,
+but tearless, her bosom heaving with indignation, her nostrils dilated,
+and her hand extended in bitter contempt towards the astonished Bernard,
+shouted, “Father, father!” until the hall rung with the sound.</p>
+
+<p>Happily for Alfred Bernard, Colonel Temple and his wife had left the
+house for a few moments, on a visit to old Giles' cabin, the old man
+having been laid up with a violent attack of the rheumatics. The wily
+intriguer was for once caught in his own springe. He had overacted his
+part, and had grossly mistaken the character of the brave young girl,
+whom he had so basely insulted. He felt that if he lost a moment, the
+house would be alarmed, and his miserable hypocrisy exposed. Rushing to
+Virginia, he whispered, in an agitated voice, which he failed to control
+with his usual self-command,</p>
+
+<p>“For God's sake, be silent. I acknowledge I have done wrong; but I will
+explain. Remember Hansford's life is in your hands. Come, now, dear
+Virginia, sit you down, I will save him.”</p>
+
+<p>The proud expression of scorn died away from the curled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> lips of the
+girl, and interest in her lover's fate again took entire possession of
+her heart. She paused and listened. The wily Jesuit had again conquered,
+and He who rules the universe with such mysterious justice, had
+permitted evil once more to triumph over innocence.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” repeated Bernard, regaining his composure with his success; “I
+will save him. I mistook your character, Miss Temple. I had thought you
+the simple-hearted girl, who for the sake of her lover's life would sell
+her heart to his preserver. I now recognize in you the high-spirited
+woman, who, conscious of right, would meet her own despair in its
+defence. Alas! in thus losing you for ever, I have just found you
+possessed of qualities which make you doubly worthy to be won. But I
+resign you to him whom you have chosen, and in my admiration for the
+woman, I have almost lost my hatred for the man. For your sake, Miss
+Temple, Major Hansford shall not want my warm interposition with the
+Governor in his behalf. Let my reward be your esteem or your contempt,
+it is still my duty thus to atone for the wound which I have
+unfortunately inflicted on your feelings. You will excuse and respect my
+wish to end this painful interview.”</p>
+
+<p>And so he left the room, and Virginia once more alone, gave vent to her
+emotions so long suppressed, in a flood of bitter tears.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Holliday,” said Bernard, as he met that worthy in the hall, “I
+hope you have been more fortunate with the red heifer than I with the
+white hind—what says Mamalis?”</p>
+
+<p>“The fact is, Cap'n, that same heifer is about as troublesome a three
+year old as I ever had the breaking on. She seemed bent on hooking me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did you not make use of the talisman I told you of?” asked Bernard.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I don't know what you call a tell-us-man,” said Holliday, “but I
+told her that you said she must remember<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> Backinhead, and I'll warrant
+it was tell-us-woman soon enough. Bless me, if she didn't most turn
+white, for all her red skin, and she got the trimbles so that I began to
+think she was going to have the high-strikes—and so says she at last;
+says she, in kind of choking voice like, 'Well, tell him I will meet him
+under the oak tree, as he wishes.'”</p>
+
+<p>“Very well,” said Bernard, “we will succeed yet, and then your hundred
+pounds are made—my share is yours already if you be but faithful to
+me—I am convinced he has been here,” he continued, musing, and half
+unconscious of Holliday's presence. “The hopeful interest that Virginia
+feels, her knowledge of the fact that he still lives and is at large,
+and the apprehensions which mingle with her hopes, all convince me that
+I'm on the right track. Well, I'll spoil a pretty love affair yet,
+before it approaches its consummation. Fine girl, too, and a pity to
+victimize her. Bless me, how majestic she looked; with what a queen-like
+scorn she treated me, the cold, insensate intriguer, as they call me. I
+begin to love her almost as much as I love her land—but, beware, Alfred
+Bernard, love might betray you. My game is a bold and desperate one, but
+the stake for which I play repays the risk. By God, I'll have her yet;
+she shall learn to bow her proud head, and to love me too—and then the
+fair fields of Windsor Hall will not be less fertile for the price which
+I pay for them in a rival's blood—and such a rival. He scorned and
+defied me when the overtures of peace were extended to him; let him look
+to it, that in rejecting the olive, he has not planted the cypress in
+its stead. Thus revenge is united with policy in the attainment of my
+object, and—What are you staring at, you gaping idiot?” he cried,
+seeing the big, pewter coloured eyes of Holliday fixed upon him in mute
+astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, Cap'n, damme if I don't believe you are talking in your sleep with
+your eyes open.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>“And what did you hear me say, knave?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, nothing that will ever go the farther for my hearing it. It's all
+one to me whether you're working for your country or yourself in this
+matter, so long as my pretty pounds are none the less heavy and safe.”</p>
+
+<p>“I'm working for both, you fool,” returned Bernard. “Did you ever know a
+general or a patriot who did not seek to serve himself as well as his
+country?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, no,” retorted the soldier, “for what the world calls honour, and
+what the rough soldier calls money, is at last only different kinds of
+coin of the same metal.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, hush your impudence,” said Bernard, “and mind, not a word of what
+you have heard, or you shall feel my power as well as others. In the
+meantime, here is a golden key to lock your lips,” and he handed the
+fellow a sovereign, which he greedily accepted.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you, Cap'n,” said Holliday, touching his hat and pocketing the
+money; “you need not be afraid of me, for I've seen tricks in my time
+worth two of that. And for the matter of taking this yellow boy, which
+might look to some like hush-money, the only difference between the
+patriot and me is, that he gets paid for opening his mouth, and I for
+keeping mine shut.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are a saucy knave,” said Bernard, reassured by the fellow's manner;
+“and I'll warrant you never served under old Noll's Puritan standard.
+But away with you, and remember to be in place at ten o'clock to-night,
+and come to me at this signal,” and he gave a shrill whistle, which
+Holliday promised to understand and obey.</p>
+
+<p>And so they separated, Bernard to while away the tedious hours, by
+conversing with the old Colonel, and by endeavouring to reinstate
+himself in the good opinion of Virginia, while Holliday repaired to the
+kitchen, where, in company with his comrades and the white servants of
+the hall, he emptied about a half gallon of brown October ale.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>
+</div>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a>CHAPTER XLII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i4">“He sat her on a milk-white steed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And himself upon a grey;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">He never turned his face again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">But he bore her quite away.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i14"><i>The Knight of the Burning Pestle.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Oh, woe is me for Gerrard! I have brought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Confusion on the noblest gentleman<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That ever truly loved.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i20"><i>The Triumph of Love.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>The night, though only starry, was scarce less lovely for the absence of
+the moon. So bright indeed was the milky way, the white girdle, with
+which the night adorns her azure robe, that you might almost imagine the
+moon had not disappeared, but only melted and diffused itself in the
+milder radiance of that fair circlet.</p>
+
+<p>As was always the custom in the country, the family had retired at an
+early hour, and Bernard quietly left the house to fulfil his engagement
+with Mamalis. They stood, he and the Indian girl, beneath the shade of
+the old oak, so often mentioned in the preceding pages. With his
+handsome Spanish cloak of dark velvet plush, thrown gracefully over his
+shoulders, his hat looped up and fastened in front with a gold button,
+after the manner of the times, Alfred Bernard stood with folded arms,
+irresolute as to how he should commence a conversation so important, and
+requiring such delicate address. Mamalis stood before him, with that air
+of nameless but matchless grace so peculiar to those, who unconstrained
+by the arts and affectations of society, assume the attitude of ease and
+beauty which nature<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> can alone suggest. She watched him with a look of
+eagerness, anxious on her part for the silence to be broken, that she
+might learn the meaning and the object of this strange interview.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred Bernard was too skillful an intriguer to broach abruptly the
+subject which, most absorbed his thoughts, and which had made him seek
+this interview, and when at last he spoke, Mamalis was at a loss to
+guess what there was in the commonplaces which he used, that could be of
+interest to him. But the wily hypocrite led her on step by step, until
+gradually and almost unconsciously to herself he had fully developed his
+wishes.</p>
+
+<p>“You live here altogether, now, do you not?” he asked, kindly.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are they kind to you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh yes, they are kind to all.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you are happy?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, as happy as those can be who are left alone on earth.”</p>
+
+<p>“What! are there none of your family now living?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no!” she replied, bitterly; “the blood of Powhatan now runs in this
+narrow channel,” and she held out her graceful arms, as she spoke, with
+an expressive gesture.</p>
+
+<p>“Alas! I pity you,” said Bernard, sighing. “We are alike in this—for my
+blood is reduced to as narrow a channel as your own. But your family was
+very numerous?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, numerous as those stars—and bright and beautiful as they.”</p>
+
+<p>“Judging from the only Pleiad that remains,” thought Bernard, “you may
+well say so—and can you,” he added, aloud, “forgive those who have thus
+injured you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Forgive, oh yes, or how shall I be forgiven! Look at those stars! They
+shine the glory of the night. They vanish before the sun of the morning.
+So faded my people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> before the arms of the white man—and yet I can
+freely forgive them all!”</p>
+
+<p>“What, even those who have quenched those stars!” said Bernard, with a
+sinister meaning in his tone.</p>
+
+<p>“You mistake,” replied Mamalis, touchingly. “They are not quenched. The
+stars we see to-night, though unseen on the morrow, are still in
+heaven.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, Mamalis,” said Bernard, “the creed of your fathers taught not
+thus. I thought the Indian maxim was that blood alone could wipe out the
+stain of blood.”</p>
+
+<p>“I love the Christian lesson better,” said Mamalis, softly. “And you,
+Mr. Bernard, should not try to shake my new born faith. 'Love your
+enemies—bless them that curse you—pray for them that despitefully use
+you and persecute you—that you may be the children of your Father which
+is in heaven.' The orphan girl on earth would love to be the child of
+her father in heaven.”</p>
+
+<p>The sweet simplicity with which the poor girl thus referred to the
+precepts and promises of her new religion, derived more touching beauty
+from the broken English with which she expressed them. An attempt to
+describe her manner and accent would be futile, and would detract from
+the simple dignity and sweetness with which she uttered the words. We
+leave the reader from his own imagination to fill up the picture which
+we can only draw in outline. Bernard saw and felt the power of religion
+in the heart of this poor savage, and he hesitated what course he should
+pursue. He knew that her strongest feeling in life had been her
+affection for her brother. That had been the chord which earliest
+vibrated in her heart, and which as her heart expanded only increased in
+tension that added greater sweetness to its tone. It was on this broken
+string, so rudely snapped asunder, that he resolved to play—hoping thus
+to strike some harsh and discordant notes in her gentle heart.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>“You had a brother, Mamalis,” he said, abruptly; “the voice of your
+brother's blood calls to you from the ground.”</p>
+
+<p>“My brother!” shrieked the girl, startled by the suddenness of the
+allusion.</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, your murdered brother,” said Bernard, marking with pleasure the
+effect he had produced, “and it is in your power to avenge his death.
+Dare you do it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, my brother, my poor lost brother,” she sobbed, the stoical
+indifference of the savage, pressed out by the crushed heart of the
+sister, “if by this hand thy death could be avenged.”</p>
+
+<p>“By your hand he can be avenged,” said Bernard, seeing her pause. “It
+has not yet been done. That stupid knave, in a moment of vanity, claimed
+for himself the praise of having murdered a chieftain, but the brave
+Manteo fell by more noble hands than his.”</p>
+
+<p>“In God's name, who do you mean?” asked Mamalis.</p>
+
+<p>“I can only tell you that it is now in your power to surrender his
+murderer to justice, and to his deserved fate.”</p>
+
+<p>Mamalis was silent. She guessed that it was Hansford to whom Bernard had
+thus vaguely alluded. The struggle seemed to be a desperate one. There
+in the clear starlight, with none to help, save Him, in whom she had
+learned to trust, she wrestled with the tempter. But that dark scene of
+her life, which still threw its shadow on her redeemed heart, again rose
+up before her memory. The lesson was a blessed one. How often thus does
+the recollection of a former sin guard the soul from error in the
+future. Surely, in this, too, God has made the wrath of man to praise
+him. With the aid thus given from on high, the trusting soul of Mamalis
+triumphed over temptation.</p>
+
+<p>“I know not why you tempt me thus, Mr. Bernard,” she said, more calmly,
+“nor why you have brought me here to-night. But this I know, that I
+have learned that vengeance belongs to God. It were a crime for mortal
+man,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> frail at best, to usurp the right of God. My brother is already
+fearfully avenged.”</p>
+
+<p>Twice beaten in his attempt to besiege the strong heart of the poor
+Indian, by stratagem, the wily Bernard determined to pursue a more
+determined course, and to take the resisting citadel by a coup d'etat.
+He argued, and argued rightly, that a sudden charge would surprise her
+into betraying a knowledge of Hansford's movements. No sooner,
+therefore, had the last words fallen from her lips, than he seized her
+roughly by the arm, and exclaimed,</p>
+
+<p>“So you, then, with all your religious cant, are the murderess of Thomas
+Hansford!”</p>
+
+<p>“The murderess! Of Hansford! Is he then dead,” cried the girl,
+bewildered by the sudden charge, “How did they find him?”</p>
+
+<p>“Find him!” cried Bernard, triumphantly, “It is easy finding what we
+hide ourselves. We have proven that you alone are aware of his hiding
+place, and you alone, therefore, are responsible for his safety. It was
+for this confession that I brought you here to-night.”</p>
+
+<p>“So help me Heaven,” said the trembling girl, terrified by the web thus
+woven around her, “If he be dead, I am innocent of his death.”</p>
+
+<p>“The assassin of Berkenhead may well be the murderess of Hansford,” said
+Bernard. “It is easier to deny than to prove. Come, my mistress, tell me
+when you saw him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, but this morning, safe and well,” said Mamalis. “Indeed, my hand is
+guiltless of his blood.”</p>
+
+<p>“Prove it, then, if you can,” returned Bernard. “You must know our
+English law presumes him guilty, who is last with the murdered person,
+unless he can prove his innocence. Show me Hansford alive, and you are
+safe. If I do not see him by sunrise, you go with me to answer for his
+death, and to learn that your accursed race is not the only people who
+demand blood for blood.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>Overawed by his threats, and his stern manner, so different from the
+mild and respectful tone in which he had hitherto addressed her, Mamalis
+sank upon the ground in an agony of alarm. Bernard disregarded her meek
+and silent appeal for mercy, and sternly menaced her when she attempted
+to scream for assistance.</p>
+
+<p>“Hush your savage shrieking, you bitch, or you'll wake the house; and
+then, by God, I'll choke you before your time. I tell you, if the man is
+alive, you need fear no danger; and if he be dead, you have only saved
+the sheriff a piece of dirty work, or may be have given him another
+victim.”</p>
+
+<p>“For God's sake, do me no harm,” cried Mamalis, imploringly. “I am
+innocent—indeed I am. Think you that I would hurt a hair of the head of
+that man whom Virginia Temple loves?”</p>
+
+<p>This last remark was by no means calculated to make her peace with
+Bernard; but his only reply was by the shrill whistle which had been
+agreed upon as a signal between Holliday and himself. True to his
+promise, and obedient to the command of his superior, the soldier made
+his appearance on the scene of action with a promptitude that could only
+be explained by the fact that he had concealed himself behind a corner
+of the house, and had heard every word of the conversation. Too much
+excited to be suspicious, Bernard did not remark on his punctuality, but
+said, in a low voice:</p>
+
+<p>“Go wake Thompson, saddle the horses, and let's be off. We have work
+before us. Go!” And Holliday, with habitual obedience, retired to
+execute the order.</p>
+
+<p>“And now,” said Bernard, in an encouraging tone, to Mamalis, “you must
+go with me. But you have nothing to fear, if Hansford be alive. If,
+however, my suspicions be true, and he has been murdered by your hand, I
+will still be your friend, if you be but faithful.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>The horses were quickly brought, and Bernard, half leading, half
+carrying the poor, weeping, trembling maiden, mounted his own powerful
+charger, and placed her behind him. The order of march was soon given,
+and the heavy sound of the horses' feet was heard upon the hard, crisp,
+frozen ground. Mamalis, seeing her fate inevitable, whatever it might
+be, awaited it patiently and without a murmur. Never suspecting the true
+motive of Bernard, and fully believing that he was <i>bona fide</i> engaged
+in searching for the perpetrators of some foul deed, she readily
+consented, for her own defence, to conduct the party to the hiding place
+of the hapless Hansford. Surprised and shocked beyond measure at the
+intelligence of his fate, she almost forgot her own situation in her
+concern for him, and was happy in aiding to bring to justice those who,
+as she feared, had murdered him. She was surprised, indeed, that she had
+heard nothing of the circumstance from Virginia, as she would surely
+have done, had Bernard mentioned it to the family. But in her ignorance
+of the rules of civilized life, she attributed this to the forms of
+procedure, to the necessity for secrecy—to anything rather than the
+true cause. Nor could she help hoping that there might be still some
+mistake, and that Hansford would be found alive and well, thus
+establishing her own innocence, and ending the pursuit.</p>
+
+<p>Arrived nearly at the wigwam, she mentioned the fact to Bernard, who in
+a low voice commanded a halt, and dismounting with his men, he directed
+Mamalis to guide them the remaining distance on foot. Leaving Thompson
+in charge of the horses, until he might be called to their assistance,
+Bernard and Holliday silently followed the unsuspecting Indian girl
+along the narrow path. A short distance ahead, they could discern the
+faint smoke, as it curled through the opening at the top of the wigwam
+and floated towards the sky. This indication rendered it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> probable that
+the object of their search was still watching, and thus warned them to
+greater caution in their approach. Bernard's heart beat thick and loud,
+and his cheek blanched with excitement, as he thus drew near the lurking
+place of his enemy. He shook Holliday by the arm with impatient anger,
+as the heavy-footed soldier jarred the silence by the crackling of
+fallen leaves and branches. And now they are almost there, and Mamalis,
+whose excitement was also intense, still in advance, saw through a
+crevice in the door the kneeling form of the noble insurgent, as he
+bowed himself by that lonely fire, and committed his weary soul to God.</p>
+
+<p>“He is here! he lives!” she shouted. “I knew that he was safe!” and the
+startled forest rang with the echoes of her voice.</p>
+
+<p>“The murder is out,” cried Bernard, as followed by Holliday, he rushed
+forward to the door, which had been thrown open by their guide; but ere
+he gained his entrance, the sharp report of a pistol was heard, and the
+beautiful, the trusting Mamalis fell prostrate on the floor, a bleeding
+martyr to her constancy and faith. Hansford, roused by the sudden sound
+of her voice, had seized the pistol which, sleeping and waking, was by
+his side, and hearing the voice of Bernard, he had fired. Had the ball
+taken effect upon either of the men, he might yet have been saved, for
+in an encounter with a single man he would have proved a formidable
+adversary. But inscrutable are His ways, whose thoughts are not as our
+thoughts, and all that the puzzled soul can do, is humbly to rely on the
+hope that</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“God is his own interpreter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he will make it plain.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And she, the last of her dispersed and ruined lineage, is gone. In the
+lone forest, where the wintry blast swept unobstructed, the giant trees
+moaned sadly and fitfully over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> their bleeding child; and the bright
+stars, that saw the heavy deed, wept from their place in heaven, and
+bathed her lovely form in night's pure dews. She did not long remain
+unburied in that forest, for when Virginia heard the story of her faith
+and loyalty from the rude lips of Holliday, the pure form of the Indian
+girl, still fresh and free from the polluting touch of the destroyer,
+was borne to her own home, and followed with due rites and fervent grief
+to the quiet tomb. In after days, when her sad heart loved to dwell upon
+these early scenes, Virginia placed above the sacred ashes of her friend
+a simple marble tablet, long since itself a ruin; and there, engraven
+with the record of her faith, her loyalty and her love, was the sweet
+assurance, that in her almost latest words, the trusting Indian girl had
+indeed become one of “the children of her Father which is in Heaven.”</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a>CHAPTER XLIII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Let some of the guard be ready there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i24">For me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must I go like a traitor thither?”<br /></span>
+<span class="i26"><i>Henry VIII.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>The reader need not be told that Hansford, surprised and unarmed, for
+his remaining pistol was not at hand, and his sword had been laid aside
+for the night, was no match for the two powerful men who now rushed upon
+him. To pinion his arms closely behind him, was the work of a moment,
+and further resistance was impossible. Seeing that all hope of
+successful defence was gone, Hansford maintained in his bearing the
+resolute fortitude and firm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span>ness which can support a brave man in
+misfortune, when active courage is no longer of avail.</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose, I need not ask Mr. Bernard,” he said, “by what authority he
+acts—and yet I would be glad to learn for what offence I am arrested.”</p>
+
+<p>“The memory of your former acts should teach you,” returned Bernard,
+coarsely, “that your offence is reckoned among the best commentators of
+the law as high treason.”</p>
+
+<p>“A grievous crime, truly,” replied Hansford, “but one of which I am
+happily innocent, unless, indeed, a skirmish with the hostile Indians
+should be reckoned as such, or Sir William Berkeley should be
+presumptuous enough to claim to be a king; in which latter case, he
+himself would be the traitor.”</p>
+
+<p>“He is at least the deputy of the king,” said Bernard, haughtily, “and
+in his person the majesty of the king has been assailed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Unfortunately, for your reasoning,” replied Hansford, “the term for
+which Berkeley was appointed governor has expired some years since.”</p>
+
+<p>“That miserable subterfuge will scarcely avail, since you tacitly
+acknowledged his authority by acting under his commission. But I have no
+time to be discussing with you on the nature of your offence, of which,
+at least, I am not the judge. I will only add, that conscious innocence
+is not found skulking in dark forests, and obscure hiding places. Call
+Thompson, with the horses, Holliday. It is time we were off.”</p>
+
+<p>“One word, before we leave,” said Hansford, sadly. “My pistol ball took
+effect, I know; who is its victim?”</p>
+
+<p>“A poor Indian girl, who conducted us to your fastness,” said Bernard.
+“I had forgotten her myself, till now. Look, Holliday, does she still
+live?”</p>
+
+<p>“Dead as a herring, your honour,” said the man, as he bent over the
+body, with deep feeling, for, though accus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span>tomed to the flow of blood,
+he had taken a lively interest in the poor girl, from what he had seen
+and overheard. “And by God, Cap'n, begging your honour's pardon, a brave
+girl she was, too, although she was an Injin.”</p>
+
+<p>“Poor Mamalis,” said Hansford, tenderly, “you have met with an early and
+a sad fate. I little thought that she would betray me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, wrong not the dead,” interposed Bernard, “I assure you, she knew
+nothing of the object of our coming. But all's fair in war, Major, and a
+little intrigue was necessary to track you to this obscure hold.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, farewell, poor luckless maiden! And so I've killed my friend,”
+said Hansford, sorrowfully. “Alas! Mr. Bernard, my arm has been felt in
+battle, and has sent death to many a foe. But, God forgive me! this is
+the first blood I have ever spilt, except in battle, and this, too,
+flows from a woman.”</p>
+
+<p>“Think not of it thus,” said Bernard, whose hard nature could not but be
+touched by this display of unselfish grief on the part of his prisoner.
+“It was but an accident, and should not rest heavily on your soul. Stay,
+Holliday, I would not have the poor girl rot here, either. Suppose you
+take the body to Windsor Hall, where it will be treated with due
+respect. Thompson and myself can, meantime, attend the prisoner.”</p>
+
+<p>“Look ye, Cap'n,” said Holliday, with the superstition peculiar to
+vulgar minds; “'taint that I'm afeard exactly neither, but its a mighty
+dissolute feeling being alone in a dark night with a corp. I'd rather
+kill fifty men, than to stay by myself five minutes, with the smallest
+of the fifty after he was killed.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then, you foolish fellow, go to the hall to-night and inform them
+of her death, and excuse me to Colonel Temple for my abrupt departure,
+and meet me with the rest of the men at Tindal's Point as soon as
+possible. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> will bide there for you. But first help me to take the poor
+girl's body into the wigwam. I suppose she will rest quietly enough here
+till morning. Major Hansford,” he added, courteously, “our horses are
+ready I perceive. You can take Holliday's there. He can provide himself
+with another at the hall. Shall we ride, sir?”</p>
+
+<p>With a sad heart the captive-bound Hansford mounted with difficulty the
+horse prepared for him, which was led by Thompson, while Bernard rode by
+his side, and with more of courtesy than could be expected from him,
+endeavoured to beguile the way with conversation with his prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Holliday, whistling for company, and ever and anon looking
+behind him warily, to see whether the disembodied Mamalis was following
+him, bent his steps towards the hall, to communicate to the unsuspecting
+Virginia the heavy tidings of her lover's capture. The rough soldier,
+although his nature had been blunted by long service and familiarity
+with scenes of distress, was not without some feelings, and showed even
+in his rude, uncultivated manners, the sympathy and tenderness which was
+wanting in the more polished but harder heart of Alfred Bernard.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a>CHAPTER XLIV.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i16">“Go to Lord Angelo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All their petitions are as freely theirs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they themselves would owe them.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i20"><i>Measure for Measure.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>It were impossible to describe the silent agony of Virginia Temple, when
+she learned from Holliday, on the following morning, the capture of
+Hansford. She felt that it was the wreck of all her hopes, and that the
+last thread which still hung between her and despair was snapped. But
+even in that dark hour, her strength of mind, and her firmness of
+purpose forsook her not. There was still a duty for her to perform in
+endeavouring to procure his pardon, and she entertained, with the
+trusting confidence of her young heart, the strong hope that Berkeley
+would grant her request. On this sacred errand she determined to go at
+once. Although she did not dream of the full extent of Bernard's
+hypocrisy, yet all his efforts had been unavailing to restore full
+confidence in his sincerity. She dared not trust a matter of such
+importance to another, especially when she had reason to suspect that
+that other was far from being friendly in his feelings towards her
+lover. Once determined on her course, she lost no time in informing her
+parents of her resolution; and so, when they were all seated around the
+breakfast-table, she said quietly, but firmly—</p>
+
+<p>“I am going to Accomac to-day, father.”</p>
+
+<p>“To where!” cried her mother; “why surely, child, you must be out of
+your senses.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, dearest mother, my calmness is not an indication<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> of insanity. If I
+should neglect this sacred duty, you might then indeed tremble for my
+reason.”</p>
+
+<p>“What in the world are you thinking of, Jeanie!” said her father, in his
+turn surprised at this sudden resolution; “what duties can call you to
+Accomac?”</p>
+
+<p>“I go to save life,” replied Virginia. “Can you wonder, my father, that
+when I see all that I hold dearest in life just trembling on the verge
+of destruction, I should desire to do all in my power to save it.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are right, my child,” replied her father, tenderly; “if it were
+possible for you to accomplish any good. But what can you do to rescue
+Hansford from the hand of justice?”</p>
+
+<p>“Of justice!” said Virginia, “and can you unite with those, my dear
+father, who profane the name of justice by applying it to the relentless
+cruelty with which blind vengeance pursues its victims?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, Jeanie!” said her father, smiling, as he pressed her hand tenderly;
+“you should remember, in language of the quaint old satirist, Butler,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'No thief e'er felt the halter draw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With good opinion of the law;'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>and although I would not apply the bitter couplet to my little Jeanie in
+its full force, yet she must own that her interest in its present
+application, prevents her from being a very competent judge of its
+propriety and justice.”</p>
+
+<p>“But surely, dear father, you cannot think that these violent measures
+against the unhappy parties to the late rebellion, are either just or
+politic?”</p>
+
+<p>“I grant, my child, that to my own mind, a far more humane policy might
+be pursued consistent with the ends of justice. To inspire terror in a
+subject is not the surest means to secure his allegiance or his love for
+government. I am sure, if you were afraid of your old father, and
+always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> in dread of his wrath and authority, you would not love him as
+you do, Jeanie—and government is at last nothing but a larger family.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then,” returned the artless girl, “why should I not go to Sir
+William Berkeley, and represent to him the harshness of his course, and
+the propriety of tempering his revenge with mercy?”</p>
+
+<p>“First, my daughter, because I have only expressed my private opinion,
+which would have but little weight with the Governor, or any one else
+but you and mother, there. Remember that we are neither the framers nor
+the administrators of the law. And then you would make but a poor
+mediator, my darling, if you were to attempt to dissuade the Governor
+from his policy, by charging him with cruelty and injustice. Think no
+more of this wild idea, my dear child. It can do no good, and reflects
+more credit on your warm, generous heart, than on your understanding or
+experience.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hinder me not, my father,” said Virginia, earnestly, her blue eyes
+filling with tears. “I can but fail, and if you would save me from the
+bitterness of self-reproach hereafter, let me go. Oh, think how it would
+add bitterness to the cup of grief, if, when closing the eyes of a dead
+friend, we should think that we had left some remedy untried which might
+have saved his life! If I fail, it will at least be some consolation,
+even in despair, that I did all that I could to avert his fate; and if I
+succeed—oh! how transporting the thought that the life of one I love
+had been spared through my interposition. Then hinder me not, father,
+mother—if you would not destroy your daughter's peace forever, oh, let
+me go!”</p>
+
+<p>The solemn earnestness with which the poor girl thus urged her parents
+to grant her request, deeply affected them both; and the old lady,
+forgetting in her love for her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> daughter the indelicacy and impropriety
+of her plan, volunteered her very efficient advocacy of Virginia's
+cause.</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed, Colonel Temple,” she said, “you should not oppose Virginia in
+this matter. You will have enough to reproach yourself for, if by your
+means you should prevent her from doing what she thinks best. And,
+indeed, I like to see a young girl show so much spirit and interest in
+her lover's fate. It is seldom you see such things now-a-days, though it
+used to be common enough in England. Now, just put it to yourself.”</p>
+
+<p>The Colonel accordingly did “put it to himself,” and, charmed with his
+daughter's affection and heroism, concluded himself to accompany her to
+Accomac, and exert his own influence with the Governor in procuring the
+pardon of the unhappy Hansford.</p>
+
+<p>“Now that's as it should be,” said the old lady, gratified at this
+renewed assurance of her ascendency over her husband. “And now,
+Virginia, cheer up. All will be right, my dear, for your father has
+great influence with the Governor—and, indeed, well he might have, for
+he has received kindness enough at our hands in times past. I should
+like to see him refuse your father a favour. And I will write a note to
+Lady Frances myself, for all the world knows that she is governor and
+all with her husband.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ladies generally are,” said the Colonel, with a smile, which however
+could not disguise the sincerity with which he uttered the sentiment.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no, not at all,” retorted the old lady, bridling up. “You are
+always throwing up your obedience to me, and yet, after all said and
+done, you have your own way pretty much, too. But you are not decent to
+go anywhere. Do, pray, Colonel Temple, pay more respect to society, and
+fix yourself up a little. Put on your blue coat and your black stock,
+and dress your hair, and shave, and look genteel for once in your life.”
+Then, seeing by the patient shrug of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> her good old husband that she had
+wounded his feelings, she patted him tenderly on the shoulder, and
+added, “You know I always love to see you nice and spruce, and when you
+do attend to your dress, and fix up, I know of none of them that are
+equal to you. Do you, Virginia?”</p>
+
+<p>Before the good Colonel had fully complied with all the toilet
+requisitions of his wife, the carriage was ready to take the travellers
+to Tindal's Point, where there was luckily a small sloop, just under
+weigh for Accomac. And Virginia, painfully alternating between hope and
+fear, but sustained by a consciousness of duty, was borne away across
+the broad Chesapeake, on her pious pilgrimage, to move by her tears and
+prayers the vindictive heart of the stern old Governor.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a>CHAPTER XLV.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Why, there's an end then! I have judged deliberately, and the
+result is death.”</span>
+<span class="i30"><i>The Gamester.</i></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>Situated, as nearly as might be, in the centre of each of the counties
+of Virginia, was a small settlement, which, although it aspired to the
+dignity of a town, could scarcely deserve the name. For the most part,
+these little country towns, as they were called, were composed of about
+four houses, to wit: The court house, dedicated to justice, where sat,
+monthly, the magistrates of the county, possessed of an unlimited
+jurisdiction in all cases cognizable in law or chancery, not touching
+life or murder, and having the care of orphans' persons and estates; the
+jail, wherein prisoners<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> committed for any felony were confined, until
+they could be brought before the general court, which had the sole
+criminal jurisdiction in the colony; the tavern, a long, low wooden
+building, generally thronged with loafers and gossips, and reeking with
+the fumes of tobacco smoke, apple-brandy and rye-whiskey; and, finally,
+the store, which shared, with the tavern, the patronage of the loafers,
+and which could be easily recognized by the roughly painted board sign,
+containing a catalogue of the goods within, arranged in alphabetical
+order, without reference to any other classification. Thus the
+substantial farmer, in search of a pound of <i>candy</i> for his little white
+headed barbarians, whom he had left at play, must needs pass his finger
+over “cards, chains, calico, cowhides, and candy;” or, if he had come to
+“town” to purchase a bushel of meal for family use, his eye was greeted
+with the list of M's, containing meal, mustard, mousetraps, and
+molasses.</p>
+
+<p>It was to the little court house town of the county of Accomac, that Sir
+William Berkeley had retired after the burning of Jamestown; and here he
+remained, since the suppression of the rebellion, like a cruel old
+spider, in the centre of his web, awaiting, with grim satisfaction, the
+capture of such of the unwary fugitives as might fall into his power.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, gentlemen, the court martial is set,” said Sir William Berkeley,
+as he gazed upon the gloomy faces of the military men around him, in the
+old court house of Accomac. In that little assembly, might be seen the
+tall and manly form of Colonel Philip Ludwell, who had been honoured, by
+the especial confidence of Berkeley, as he was, afterwards, by the
+constant and tender love of the widowed Lady Frances. There, too, was
+the stern, hard countenance of Major Robert Beverley, whose unbending
+loyalty had shut his eyes to true merit in an opponent. The names of the
+remaining members of the court, have, unfortunately,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> not found a place
+in the history of the rebellion. Alfred Bernard, on whom the governor
+had showered, with a lavish hand, the favours which it was in his power
+to bestow, had been promoted to the office of Major, in the room of
+Thomas Hansford, outlawed, and was, therefore, entitled to a seat at the
+council which was to try the life of his rival. But as his evidence was
+of an important character, and as he had been concerned directly in the
+arrest of the prisoner, he preferred to act in the capacity of a
+witness, rather than as a judge.</p>
+
+<p>“Let the prisoner be brought before the court,” said Berkeley; and in a
+few moments, Hansford, with his hands manacled, was led, between a file
+of soldiers, to the seat prepared for him. His short confinement had
+made but little change in his appearance. His face, indeed, was paler
+than usual, and his eye was brighter, for the exciting and solemn scene
+through which he was about to pass. But prejudged, though he was, his
+firmness never forsook him, and he met with a calm, but respectful gaze,
+the many eyes which were bent upon him. Conspicuous among the rebels,
+and popular and beloved in the colony, his trial had attracted a crowd
+of spectators; some impelled by vulgar curiosity, some by their loyal
+desire to witness the trial of a rebel to his king, but not a few by
+sympathy for his early and already well known fate.</p>
+
+<p>As might well be expected, there was but little difficulty in
+establishing his participation in the late rebellion. There were many of
+the witnesses, who had seen him in intimate association with Bacon, and
+several who recognized him as among the most active in the trenches at
+Jamestown. To crown all, the irresistible evidence was introduced by
+Bernard, that the prisoner had actually brought a threatening message to
+the governor, while at Windsor Hall, which had induced the first flight
+to Accomac. It was useless to resist the force of such accumulated
+testi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span>mony, and Hansford saw that his fate was settled. It were folly to
+contend before such a tribunal, that his acts did not constitute
+rebellion, or that the court before whom he was arraigned was
+unconstitutional. The devoted victim of their vengeance, therefore,
+awaited in silence the conclusion of this solemn farce, which they had
+dignified by the name of a trial.</p>
+
+<p>The evidence concluded, Sir William Berkeley, as Lord President of the
+Court, collected the suffrages of its members. It might easily be
+anticipated by their gloomy countenances, what was the solemn import of
+their judgment. Thomas Ludwell, the secretary of the council, acted as
+the clerk, and in a voice betraying much emotion, read the fatal
+decision. The sympathizing bystanders, who in awful silence awaited the
+result, drew a long breath as though relieved from their fearful
+suspense, even by having heard the worst. And Hansford was to die! He
+heard with much emotion the sentence which doomed him to a traitor's
+death the next day at noon; and those who were near, heard him sob, “My
+poor, poor mother!” But almost instantly, with a violent effort he
+controlled his feelings, and asked permission to speak.</p>
+
+<p>“Surely,” said the Governor, “provided your language be respectful to
+the Court, and that you say nothing reflecting on his majesty's
+government at home or in the Colony of Virginia.”</p>
+
+<p>“These are hard conditions,” said Hansford, rising from his seat, “as
+with such limitations, I can scarcely hope to justify my conduct. But I
+accept your courtesy, even with these conditions. A dying man has at
+last but little to say, and but little disposition to mingle again in
+the affairs of a world which he must so soon leave. In the short, the
+strangely short time allotted to me, I have higher and holier concerns
+to interest me. Ere this hour to-morrow, I will have passed from the
+scenes of earth to appear before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> a higher tribunal than yours, and to
+answer for the forgotten sins of my past life. But I thank my God, that
+while that awful tribunal is higher, it is also juster and more merciful
+than yours. Even in this sad moment, however, I cannot forget the
+country for which I have lived, and for which I must so soon die. I see
+by your countenances that I am already transcending your narrow limits.
+But it cannot be treason to pray for her, and as my life has been
+devoted to her service, so will my prayers for her welfare ascend with
+my petitions for forgiveness.</p>
+
+<p>“I would say a word as to the offence with which I have been charged,
+and the evidence on which I have been convicted. That evidence amounts
+to the fact that I was in arms, by the authority of the Governor,
+against the common enemies of my country. Is this treason? That I was
+the bearer of a threatening message to the Governor from General Bacon,
+which caused the first flight into Accomac. And here I would say,” and
+he fixed his eyes full on Alfred Bernard, as he spoke, who endeavoured
+to conceal his feelings by a smile of scorn, “that the evidence on this
+point has been cruelly, shamefully garbled and perverted. It was never
+stated that, while as the minister of another, I bore the message
+referred to, I urged the Governor to consider and retract the
+proclamation which he had made, and offered my own mediation to restore
+peace and quiet to the Colony. Had my advice been taken the beams of
+peace would have once more burst upon Virginia, the scenes which are
+constantly enacted here, and which will continue to be enacted, would
+never have disgraced the sacred name of justice; and the name of Sir
+William Berkeley would not be handed down to the execrations of
+posterity as a dishonoured knight, and a brutal, bloody butcher.”</p>
+
+<p>“Silence!” cried the incensed old Governor, in tones of thunder, “or by
+the wounds of God, I'll shorten the brief<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> space which now interposes
+between you and eternity. Is this redeeming your promise of respect?”</p>
+
+<p>“I beg pardon,” said Hansford, undaunted by the menace. “Excuse me, if I
+cannot speak patiently of cruelty and oppression. But let this pass.
+That perfidious wretch who would rise above my ruins, never breathed a
+word of this, when on the evangelist of Almighty God he was sworn to
+speak the truth. But if such evidence be sufficient to convict me of
+treason now, why was it not sufficient then? Why, with the same facts
+before you, did you, Sir William Berkeley, discharge the traitor in
+arms, and now seek his death when disarmed and impotent? One other link
+remains in the chain, this feeble chain of evidence. I aided in the
+siege of Jamestown, and once more drove the Governor and his fond
+adherents from their capital, to their refuge in the Accomac. I cannot,
+I will not deny it. But neither can this be treason, unless, indeed, Sir
+William Berkeley possesses in his own person the sacred majesty of
+Virginia. For when he abdicated the government by his first flight from
+the soil of Virginia, the sovereign people of the Colony, assembled in
+solemn convention, declared his office vacant. In that convention, you,
+my judges, well know, for you found it to your cost, were present a
+majority of the governor's council, the whole army, and almost the
+entire chivalry and talent of the colony. In their name writs were
+issued for an assembly, which met under their authority, and the
+commission of governor was placed in the hands of Nathaniel Bacon.”</p>
+
+<p>“By an unauthorized mob,” said Berkeley, unable to restrain his
+impatience.</p>
+
+<p>“By an organized convention of sovereign people,” returned Hansford,
+proudly. “You, Sir William Berkeley, deemed it not an unauthorized mob,
+when confiding in your justice, and won by your soft promises, a similar
+convention, composed of cavaliers and rich landholders, confided<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> to
+your hands, in 1659, the high trust which you now hold. If such a
+proceeding were unauthorized then, were you not guilty in accepting the
+commission? If authorized, were not the same people competent to bestow
+the trust upon another, whom they deemed more worthy to hold it? If this
+be so, the insurgents, as you have chosen to call them, were not in arms
+against the government at the siege of Jamestown. And thus the last
+strand in the coil of evidence, with which you have involved me, is
+broken, as withs are severed at the touch of fire. But light as is the
+testimony against me, it is sufficient to turn the beam of justice, when
+the sword of Brennus is cast into the scale.</p>
+
+<p>“One word more and I am done; for I see you are impatient for the
+sacrifice. I had thought that I would have been tried by a jury of my
+peers. Such I deemed my right as a British subject. But condemned by the
+extraordinary and unwarranted proceedings of this Star Chamber”—</p>
+
+<p>“Silence!” cried Berkeley, again waxing wroth at such an imputation.</p>
+
+<p>“I beg pardon once more,” continued Hansford, “I thought the favourite
+institution of Charles the First would not have met with so little
+favour from such loyal cavaliers. But I demand in the name of Freedom,
+in the name of England, in the name of God and Justice, when was Magna
+Charta or the Petition of Right abolished on the soil of Virginia? Is
+the Governor of Virginia so little of a lawyer that he remembers not the
+language of the stout Barons of Runnymede, unadorned in style, but
+pregnant with freedom. 'No freeman may be taken or imprisoned, or be
+disseised of his freehold or liberties, or his free-customs, or be
+outlawed or exiled, or in any manner destroyed, but by the lawful
+judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land.' Excuse me, gentlemen,
+for repeating to such sage judges so old and hackneyed a fragment of the
+law. But until to-day, I had been taught to hold those words as sacred,
+and as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> indeed containing the charter of the liberties of an Englishman.
+Alas! it will no longer be hackneyed nor quoted by the slaves of
+England, except when they mourn with bitter but hopeless tears, for the
+higher and purer freedom of their ruder fathers. Why am I thus arraigned
+before a court-martial in time of peace? Am I found in arms? Am I even
+an officer or a soldier? The commission which I once held has been torn
+from me, and given, as his thirty pieces, to you dissembling Judas, for
+the price of my betrayal. But I am done. Your tyranny and oppression
+cannot last for ever. The compressed spring will at last recoil with
+power proportionate to the force by which it has been restrained—and
+freed posterity will avenge on a future tyrant my cruel and unnatural
+murder.”</p>
+
+<p>Hansford sat down, and Sir William Berkeley, flushed with indignation,
+replied,</p>
+
+<p>“I had hoped that the near approach of death, if not a higher motive,
+would have saved us from such treasonable sentiments. But, sir, the
+insolence of your manner has checked any sympathy which I might have
+entertained for your early fate. I, therefore, have only to pronounce
+the judgment of the court; that you be taken to the place whence you
+came, and there safely kept until to-morrow noon, when you will be
+taken, with a rope about your neck, to the common gallows, and there
+hung by the neck until you are dead. And may the Lord Jesus Christ have
+mercy on your soul!”</p>
+
+<p>“Amen!” was murmured, in sad whispers, by the hundreds of pale
+spectators who crowded around the unhappy prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>“How is this!” cried Hansford, once more rising to his feet, with strong
+emotion. “Gentlemen, you are soldiers, as such I may claim you as
+brethren, as such you should be brave and generous men. On that
+generosity, in this hour of peril, I throw myself, and ask as a last
+indulgence,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> as a dying favour, that I may die the death of a soldier,
+and not of a felon.”</p>
+
+<p>“You have lived a traitor's, not a soldier's life,” said Berkeley, in an
+insulting tone. “A soldier's life is devoted to his king and country;
+yours to a rebel and to treason. You shall die the death of a traitor.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then, I have done,” said Hansford, with a sigh, “and must look to
+Him alone for mercy, who can make the felon's gallows as bright a
+pathway to happiness, as the field of glory.”</p>
+
+<p>Many a cheek flushed with indignation at the refusal of the governor to
+grant this last petition of a brave man. A murmur of dissatisfaction
+arose from the crowd, and even some sturdy loyalists were heard to
+mutter, “shame.” The other members of the court were seen to confer
+together, and to remonstrate with the governor.</p>
+
+<p>“'Fore God, no,” said Berkeley, in a whisper to his advisers. “Think of
+the precedent it will establish. Traitor he has lived, and as far as my
+voice can go, traitor he shall die. I suppose the sheep-killing hound,
+and the egg-sucking cur, will next whine out their request to be shot
+instead of hung.”</p>
+
+<p>So great was the influence of Berkeley, over the minds of the court,
+that, after a feeble remonstrance, the petition of the prisoner was
+rejected. Old Beverley alone, was heard to mutter in the ear of Philip
+Ludwell, that it was a shame to deny a brave man a soldier's death, and
+doom him to a dog's fate.</p>
+
+<p>“And for all this,” he added, “its a damned hard lot, and blast me, but
+I think Hansford to be worth in bravery and virtue, fifty of that
+painted popinjay, Bernard, whose cruelty is as much beyond his years as
+his childish vanity is beneath them.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, gentlemen, I trust you are now satisfied,” said Berkeley.
+“Sheriff, remove your prisoner, and,” looking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> angrily around at the
+malecontents, “if necessary, summon an additional force to assist you.”</p>
+
+<p>The officer, however, deemed no such precaution necessary, and the
+hapless Hansford was conducted back to his cell under the same guard
+that brought him thence; there to await the execution on the morrow of
+the fearful sentence to which he had been condemned.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a>CHAPTER XLVI.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0"><i>Isabella.</i>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Yet show some pity."</span>
+</div></div></div>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0"><i>Angelo.</i>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I show it most of all when I show justice.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>Measure for Measure.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>That evening Sir William Berkeley was sitting in the private room at the
+tavern, which had been fitted up for his reception. He had strictly
+commanded his servants to deny admittance to any one who might wish to
+see him. The old man was tired of counsellors, advisers, and
+petitioners, who harassed him in their attempt to curb his impatient
+ire, and he was determined to act entirely for himself. He had thus been
+sitting for more than an hour, looking moodily into the fire, without
+even the officious Lady Frances to interfere with his reflections, when
+a servant in livery entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>“If your Honour please,” said the obsequious servitor, “there is a lady
+at the door who says she must see you on urgent business. I told her
+that you could not be seen, but she at last gave me this note, which she
+begged me to hand you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span>”</p>
+
+<p>Berkeley impatiently tore open the note and read as follows:—</p>
+
+<div class="narrow">
+<p>“By his friendship for my father, and his former kindness to me, I
+ask for a brief interview with Sir William Berkeley.</p>
+
+<p class="sig">
+“<span class="smcap">Virginia Temple.</span>”
+</p></div>
+
+<p>“Fore God!” said the Governor, angrily, “they beset me with an
+importunity which makes me wretched. What the devil can the girl want!
+Some favour for Bernard, I suppose. Well, any thing for a moment's
+respite from these troublesome rebels. Show her up, Dabney.”</p>
+
+<p>In another moment the door again opened, and Virginia Temple, pale and
+trembling, fell upon her knees before the Governor, and raised her soft,
+blue eyes to his face so imploringly, that the heart of the old man was
+moved to pity.</p>
+
+<p>“Rise, my daughter,” he said, tenderly; “tell me your cause of grief. It
+surely cannot be so deep as to bring you thus upon your knees to an old
+friend. Rise then, and tell me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, thank you,” she said, with a trembling voice, “I knew that you were
+kind, and would listen to my prayer.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Virginia,” said the Governor, in the same mild tone, “let me hear
+your request? You know, we old servants of the king have not much time
+to spare at best, and these are busy times. Is your father well, and
+your good mother? Can I serve them in any thing?”</p>
+
+<p>“They are both well and happy, nor do they need your aid,” said
+Virginia; “but I, sir, oh! how can I speak. I have come from Windsor
+Hall to ask that you will be just and merciful. There is, sir, a brave
+man here in chains, who is doomed to die—to die to-morrow. Oh,
+Hansford, Hansford!” and unable longer to control her emotion, the poor,
+broken-hearted girl burst into an agony of tears.</p>
+
+<p>Berkeley's brow clouded in an instant.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span>“And is it for that unhappy man, my poor girl, that you have come alone
+to sue?”</p>
+
+<p>“I did not come alone,” replied Virginia; “my father is with me, and
+will himself unite in my request.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will be most happy to see my old friend again, but I would that he
+came on some less hopeless errand. Major Hansford must die. The laws
+alike of his God and his country, which he has trampled regardless under
+foot, require the sacrifice of his blood.”</p>
+
+<p>“But, for the interposition of mercy,” urged the poor girl, “the laws of
+God require the death of all—and the laws of his country have vested in
+you the right to arrest their rigour at your will. Oh, how much sweeter
+to be merciful than sternly just!”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, my poor girl,” said Sir William, “you speak of what you cannot
+understand, and your own griefs have blinded your mind. Justice,
+Virginia, is mercy; for by punishing the offender it prevents the
+repetition of the offence. The vengeance of the law thus becomes the
+safeguard of society, and the sword of justice becomes the sceptre of
+righteousness.”</p>
+
+<p>“I cannot reason with you,” returned Virginia. “You are a statesman, and
+I am but a poor, weak girl, ignorant of the ways of the world.”</p>
+
+<p>“And therefore you have come to advocate this suit instead of your
+father,” said Berkeley, smiling. “I see through your little plot
+already. Come, tell me now, am I not right in my conjecture? Why have
+you come to urge the cause of Hansford, instead of your father?”</p>
+
+<p>“Because,” said Virginia, with charming simplicity, “we both thought,
+that as Sir William Berkeley had already decided upon the fate of this
+unhappy man, it would be easier to reach his heart, than to affect the
+mature decision of his judgment.”</p>
+
+<p>“You argued rightly, my dear girl,” said Berkeley,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> touched by her
+frankness and simplicity, as well as by her tears. “But it is the hard
+fate of those in power to deny themselves often the luxury of mercy,
+while they tread onward in the rough but straight path of justice. It is
+ours to follow the stern maxim of our old friend Shakspeare:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Mercy but murders, pardoning those who kill.'”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“But it does seem to me,” said the resolute girl, losing all the native
+diffidence of her character in the interest she felt in her cause—“it
+does seem to me that even stern policy would sometimes dictate mercy.
+May not a judicious clemency often secure the love of the misguided
+citizen, while harsh justice would estrange him still farther from
+loyalty?”</p>
+
+<p>“There, you are trenching upon your father's part, my child,” said the
+Governor. “You must not go beyond your own cue, you know—for believe me
+that your plea for mercy would avail far more with me than your reasons,
+however cogent. This rebellion proceeded too far to justify any clemency
+toward those who promoted it.”</p>
+
+<p>“But it is now suppressed,” said Virginia, resolutely; “and is it not
+the sweetest attribute of power, to help the fallen? Oh, remember,” she
+added, carried away completely by her subject,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“'Less pleasure take brave minds in battles won,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than in restoring such as are undone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tigers have courage, and the rugged bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But man alone can, when he conquers, spare.'”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“I did not expect to hear your father's daughter defend her cause by
+such lines as these. Do you know where they are found?”</p>
+
+<p>“They are Waller's, I believe,” said Virginia, blushing at this
+involuntary display of learning; “but it is their truth, and not their
+author, which suggested them to me.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span>“Your memory is correct,” said Berkeley, with a smile, “but they are
+found in his panegyric on the Protector. A eulogy upon a traitor is bad
+authority with an old cavalier like me.”</p>
+
+<p>“If, then, you need authority which you cannot question,” the girl
+replied, earnestly, “do you think that the royal cause lost strength by
+the mild policy of Charles the Second? That is authority that even you
+dare not question.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, and what if I should say,” replied Berkeley, “that this very
+leniency was one of the causes that encouraged the recent rebellion? But
+go, my child; I would rejoice if I could please you, but Hansford's fate
+is settled. I pity you, but I cannot forgive him.” And with a courteous
+inclination of his head, he signified his desire that their interview
+should end.</p>
+
+<p>“Nay,” shrieked Virginia, in desperation, “I will not let you go, except
+you bless me,” and throwing herself again upon her knees, she implored
+his mercy. Berkeley, who, with all his sternness, was not an unfeeling
+man, was deeply moved. What the result might have been can never be
+known, for at that moment a voice was heard from the street exclaiming,
+“Drummond is taken!” In an instant the whole appearance of the Governor
+changed. His cheek flushed and his eye sparkled, as with hasty strides
+he left the room and descended the stairs. No more the fine specimen of
+a cavalier gentleman, his manner became at once harsh and irritable.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Mr. Drummond,” he cried, as he saw the proud rebel led manacled
+to the door. “'Fore God, and I am more delighted to see you than any man
+in the colony. You shall hang in half an hour.”</p>
+
+<p>“And if he do,” shrieked the wild voice of a woman from the crowd,
+“think you that with your puny hand you can arrest the current of
+liberty in this colony? And when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> you appear before the dread bar of
+God, the spirits of these martyred patriots will rise up to condemn you,
+and fiends shall snatch at your blood-stained soul, perfidious tyrant!
+And I will be among them, for such a morsel of vengeance would sweeten
+hell. Ha! ha! ha!”</p>
+
+<p>With that wild, maniac laugh, Sarah Drummond disappeared from the crowd
+of astounded spectators.</p>
+
+<p>History informs us that the deadly threat of Berkeley was carried into
+effect immediately. But it was not until two days afterwards that
+William Drummond met a traitor's doom upon the common gallows.</p>
+
+<p>Virginia Temple, thus abruptly left, and deprived of all hope, fell
+senseless on the floor of the room. The hope which had all along
+sustained her brave young heart, had now vanished forever, and kindly
+nature relieved the agony of her despair by unconsciousness. And there
+she lay, pale and beautiful, upon that floor, while the noisy clamour
+without was hailing the capture of another victim, whose fate was to
+bring sorrow and despair to another broken heart.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XLVII" id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a>CHAPTER XLVII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“His nature is so far from doing harm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My practices ride easy.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i30"><i>King Lear.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>When Virginia aroused again to consciousness, her eyes met the features
+of Alfred Bernard, as he knelt over her form. Not yet realizing her
+situation, she gazed wildly about her, and in a hoarse, husky whisper,
+which fell horridly on the ear, she said, “Where is my father?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span>“At home, Virginia,” replied Bernard, softly, chafing her white temples
+the while—“And you are here in Accomac. Look up, Virginia, and see that
+you are not without a friend even here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, now, yes, now I know it all,” she shrieked, springing up with a
+wild bound, and rushing like a maniac toward the door. “They have killed
+him! I have slept here, instead of begging his life. I have murdered
+him! Ha! you, sir, are you the jailer? I should know your face.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, do not speak thus, Virginia,” said Bernard, holding her gently in
+his arms, “Hansford is yet alive. Be calm.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hansford! I thought he was dead!” said the poor girl, her mind still
+wandering. “Did not Mamalis—no—she is dead—all are dead—ha? where am
+I? Sure this is not Windsor Hall. Nay, what am I talking about. Let me
+see;” and she pressed her hand to her forehead, and smoothed back her
+fair hair, as she strove to collect her thoughts. “Ah! now I know,” she
+said at length, more calmly, “I beg your pardon, Mr. Bernard, I have
+acted very foolishly, I fear. But you will forgive a poor distracted
+girl.”</p>
+
+<p>“I promised you my influence with the governor,” said Bernard, “and I do
+not yet despair of effecting my object. And so be calm.”</p>
+
+<p>“Despair!” said Virginia, bitterly, “as well might you expect to turn a
+river from the sea, as to turn the relentless heart of that bigoted old
+tyrant from blood. And yet, I thank you, Mr. Bernard, and beg that you
+will leave no means untried to preserve my poor doomed Hansford. You see
+I am quite calm now, and should you fail in your efforts to procure a
+pardon, may I ask one last melancholy favour at your hands! I would see
+him once more before we part, forever.” And to prove how little she knew
+her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> own heart, the poor girl burst into a renewed agony of grief.</p>
+
+<p>“Calm your feelings, then, dear Virginia,” said Bernard, “and you shall
+see him. But by giving way thus, you would unman him.”</p>
+
+<p>“You remind me of my duty, my friend,” said Virginia, controlling
+herself, with a strong effort, “and I will not again forget it in my
+selfish grief. Shall we go now?”</p>
+
+<p>“Remain here, but a few moments, patiently,” he replied, “and I will
+seek the governor, and urge him to relent. If I fail, I will return to
+you.”</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the young girl once more to her own sad reflections, Alfred
+Bernard left the room.</p>
+
+<p>“Virtue has its own reward,” he muttered, as he walked slowly along. “I
+wonder how many would be virtuous if it were not so! Self is at last the
+mainspring of action, and when it produces good, we call it virtue; when
+it accomplishes evil, we call it vice; wherein, then, am I worse than my
+fellow man? Here am I, now, giving this poor girl a interview with her
+rebel lover, and extracting some happiness for them, even from their
+misery. And yet I am not a whit the worse off. Nay, I am benefited, for
+gratitude is a sure prompter of love; and when Hansford is out of the
+way, who so fit to supply the niche, left vacant in her heart, as Alfred
+Bernard, who soothed their mutual grief. Thus virtue is often a valuable
+handmaid to success, and may be used for our purposes, when we want her
+assistance, and afterwards be whistled to the winds as a pestilent jade.
+Machiavelli in politics, Loyola in religion, Rochefoucault in society,
+ye are the mighty three, who, seeing the human heart in all its
+nakedness, have dared to tear the mask from its deformed and hideous
+features.”</p>
+
+<p>“What in the world are you muttering about, Alfred?” said Governor
+Berkeley, as they met in the porch, as Bernard had finished this
+diabolical soliloquy.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span>“Oh nothing,” replied the young intriguer. “But I came to seek your
+excellency.”</p>
+
+<p>“And I to seek for you, my sage young counsellor; I have to advise with
+you upon a subject which lies heavy on my heart, Alfred.”</p>
+
+<p>“You need only command my counsel and it is yours,” said Bernard, “but I
+fear that I can be of little assistance in your reflections.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes you can, my boy,” returned Berkeley, “I know not whether you will
+esteem it a compliment or not, Alfred, but yours is an old head on young
+shoulders, and the heart, which in the season of youth often flits away
+from the sober path of judgment, seems with you to follow steadily in
+the wake of reason.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you mean that I am ever ready to sacrifice my own selfish impulses
+to my duty, I do esteem it as a compliment, though I fear not altogether
+deserved.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then,” said the Governor, “this poor boy, Hansford, who is to
+suffer death to-morrow, I have had a strange interview concerning him
+since I last saw you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, with Miss Temple,” returned Bernard. “She told me she had seen
+you, and that you were as impregnable to assault as the rock of
+Gibraltar.”</p>
+
+<p>“I thought so too, where treason was concerned,” said Berkeley. “But
+some how, the leaven of the poor girl's tears is working strangely in my
+heart; and after I had left her, who should I meet but her old father.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is Colonel Temple here?” asked Bernard, surprised.</p>
+
+<p>“Aye is he, and urged Hansford's claims to pardon with such force, that
+I had to fly from temptation. Nay he even put his plea for mercy upon
+the ground of his own former kindness to me.”</p>
+
+<p>“The good old gentleman seems determined to be paid for that
+hospitality,” said Bernard, with a sneer. “Well!”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, altogether I am almost determined to interpose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> my reprieve,
+until the wishes of his majesty are known,” said Berkeley, with some
+hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>Bernard was silent, for some moments, and the Governor continued.</p>
+
+<p>“What do you say to this course Alfred?”</p>
+
+<p>“Simply, that if you are determined, I have nothing to say.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, but I am not determined, my young friend.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I must ask you what are the grounds of your hesitation, before I
+can express an opinion?” said Bernard.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, first,” said the Governor, “because it will be a personal favour
+to Colonel Temple, and will dry the tears in those blue eyes of his
+pretty daughter. His kindness to me in this unhappy rebellion would be
+but poorly requited, if I refused the first and only favour that he has
+ever asked of me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then hereafter,” returned Bernard, quietly, “it would be good policy in
+a rebellion, for half the rebels to remain at home and entertain the
+Governor at their houses. They would thus secure the pardon of the
+rest.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, you young Solomon,” said Berkeley, laughing, “I believe you are
+right there. It would be a dangerous precedent. But then, a reprieve is
+not a pardon, and while I might thus oblige my friends, the king could
+hereafter see the cause of justice vindicated.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you would shift your own responsibility upon the king,” replied
+Bernard. “Has not Charles Stuart enough to trouble him, with his
+rebellious subjects at home, without having to supervise every petty
+felony or treason that occurs in his distant colonies? This provision of
+our charter, denying to the Governor the power of absolute pardon, but
+granting him power to reprieve, was only made, that in doubtful cases,
+the minister might rely upon the wisdom of majesty. It was never
+intended to shift all the trouble and vexation of a colonial executive
+upon the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> overloaded hands of the king. If you have any doubt of
+Hansford's guilt, I would be the last to turn your heart from clemency,
+by a word of my mouth. If he be guilty, I only ask whether Sir William
+Berkeley is the man to shrink from responsibility, and to fasten upon
+his royal master the odium, if odium there be, attending the execution
+of the sentence against a rebel.”</p>
+
+<p>“Zounds, no, Bernard, you know I am not. But then there are a plenty of
+rebels to sate the vengeance of the law, besides this poor young fellow.
+Does justice demand that all should perish?”</p>
+
+<p>“My kind patron,” said Bernard, “to whom I owe all that I have and am,
+do not further urge me to oppose feelings so honorable to your heart.
+Exercise your clemency towards this unhappy young man, in whose fate I
+feel as deep an interest as yourself. If harm should flow from your
+mercy, who can censure you for acting from motives so generous and
+humane. If by your mildness you should encourage rebellion again,
+posterity will pardon the weakness of the Governor in the benevolence of
+the man.”</p>
+
+<p>“Stay,” said Berkeley, his pride wounded by this imputation, “you know,
+Alfred, that if I thought that clemency towards this young rebel would
+encourage rebellion in the future, I would rather lose my life than
+spare his. But speak out, and tell me candidly why you think the
+execution of this sentence necessary to satisfy justice.”</p>
+
+<p>“You force me to an ungrateful duty,” replied the young hypocrite, “for
+it is far more grateful to the heart of a benevolent man to be the
+advocate of mercy, than the stern champion of justice. But since you ask
+my reasons, it is my duty to obey you. First, then, this young man, from
+his talent, his bravery, and his high-flown notions about liberty, is
+far more dangerous than any of the insurgents who have survived
+Nathaniel Bacon. Then, he has shown that so far from repenting of his
+treason, he is ready to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> justify it, as witness his speech, wherein he
+predicted the triumph of revolution in Virginia, and denounced the
+vengeance of future generations upon tyranny and oppression. Nay, he
+even went farther, and characterized as brutal bloody butchers the
+avengers of the broken laws of their country.”</p>
+
+<p>“I remember,” said Berkeley, turning pale at the recollection.</p>
+
+<p>“But there is another cogent reason why he should suffer the penalty
+which he has so richly incurred. If your object be to secure the
+returning loyalty and affection of the people, you should not incense
+them by unjust discrimination in favour of a particular rebel. The
+friends of Drummond, of Lawrence, of Cheeseman, of Wilford, of Bland, of
+Carver, will all say, and say with justice, that you spared the
+principal leader in the rebellion, the personal friend and adviser of
+Bacon, while their own kinsmen were doomed to the scaffold. Nor will
+those ghosts walk unavenged.”</p>
+
+<p>“I see, I see,” cried Berkeley, grasping Bernard warmly by the hand.
+“You have saved me, Alfred, from a weakness which I must ever afterwards
+have deplored, and at the expense of your own feelings, my boy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, my dear patron,” replied Bernard, with a sigh, “you may well say
+at the expense of my own feelings. For I too, have just witnessed a
+scene which would have moved a heart of stone; and it was at the request
+of that poor, weeping, broken-hearted girl, to save whom from distress,
+I would willingly lay down my life—it was at her request that I came to
+beg at your hands the poor privilege of a last interview with her lover.
+Even Justice, stern as are her decrees, cannot deny this boon to Mercy.”</p>
+
+<p>“You have a generous heart, my dear boy,” said the Governor, with the
+tears starting from his eyes. “There are not many men who would thus
+take delight in ministering consolation to the heart of a successful
+rival. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> have my full and free permission. Go, my son, and through
+life may your heart be ever thus awake to such generous impulses, yet
+sustained and controlled by your unwavering devotion to duty and
+justice.”</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XLVIII" id="CHAPTER_XLVIII"></a>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“My life, my health, my liberty, my all!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How shall I welcome thee to this sad place—<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How speak to thee the words of joy and transport?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How run into thy arms, withheld by fetters,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or take thee into mine, while I'm thus manacled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pinioned like a thief or murderer?”<br /></span>
+<span class="i22"><i>The Mourning Bride.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>How different from the soliloquy of the dark and treacherous Bernard,
+seeking in the sophistry and casuistry of philosophy to justify his
+selfishness, were the thoughts of his noble victim! Too brave to fear
+death, yet too truly great not to feel in all its solemnity the grave
+importance of the hour; with a soul formed for the enjoyment of this
+world, yet fully prepared to encounter the awful mysteries of another,
+the heart of Thomas Hansford beat calmly and healthfully, unappalled by
+the certainty that on the morrow it would beat no more. He was seated on
+a rude cot, in the room which was prepared for his brief confinement,
+reading his Bible. The proud man, who relying on his own strength had
+braved many dangers, and whose cheek had never blanched from fear of an
+earthly adversary, was not ashamed in this, his hour of great need, to
+seek consolation and support from Him who alone could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> conduct him
+through the dark valley of the shadow of death.</p>
+
+<p>The passage which he read was one of the sublime strains of the rapt
+Isaiah, and never had the promise seemed sweeter and dearer to his soul
+than now, when he could so fully appropriate it to himself.</p>
+
+<p>“Fear not for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by my name; thou
+art mine.</p>
+
+<p>“When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee; and through
+the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the
+fire thou shalt not be burnt; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.</p>
+
+<p>“For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy one of Israel, thy Saviour.”</p>
+
+<p>As he read and believed the blessed assurance contained in the sacred
+promise, he learned to feel that death was indeed but the threshold to a
+purer world. So absorbed was he in the contemplation of this sublime
+theme, that he did not hear the door open, and it was some time before
+he looked up and saw Alfred Bernard and Virginia Temple, who had quietly
+entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>Virginia's resolution entirely gave way, and violently trembling from
+head to foot, her hands and brow as white and cold as marble, she well
+nigh sank under the sickening effect of her agony. For all this she did
+not weep. There are wounds which never indicate their existence by
+outward bleeding, and such are esteemed most dangerous. 'Tis thus with
+the spirit-wounds which despair inflicts upon its victim. Nature yields
+not to the soul the sad relief of tears, but falling in bitter drops
+they petrify and crush the sad heart, which they fail to relieve.</p>
+
+<p>Hansford, too, was much moved, but with a greater control of his
+feelings he said, “And so, you have come to take a last farewell,
+Virginia. This is very, very kind.”</p>
+
+<p>“I regret,” said Alfred Bernard, “that the only condi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span>tion on which I
+gained admittance for Miss Temple was, that I should remain during the
+interview. Major Hansford will see the necessity of such a precaution,
+and will, I am sure, pardon an intrusion as painful to me as to
+himself.”</p>
+
+<p>The reader, who has been permitted to see the secret workings of that
+black heart, which was always veiled from the world, need not be told
+that no such precaution was proposed by the Governor. Bernard's object
+was more selfish; it was to prevent his victim from prejudicing the mind
+of Virginia towards him, by informing her of the prominent part that he
+had taken in Hansford's trial and conviction.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, certainly, sir,” replied Hansford, gratefully, “and I thank you,
+Mr. Bernard, for thus affording me an opportunity of taking a last
+farewell of the strongest tie which yet binds me to earth. I had thought
+till now,” he added, with emotion, “that I was fully prepared to meet my
+fate. Well, Virginia, the play is almost over, and the last dread scene,
+tragic though it be, cannot last long.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, God!” cried the trembling girl, “help me—help me to bear this
+heavy blow.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nay, speak not thus, my own Virginia,” he said. “Remember that my lot
+is but the common destiny of mankind, only hastened a few hours. The
+leaves, that the chill autumn breath has strewn upon the earth, will be
+supplied by others in the spring, which in their turn will sport for a
+season in the summer wind, and fade and die with another year. Thus one
+generation passes away, and another comes, like them to live, like them
+to die and be forgotten. We need not fear death, if we have discharged
+our duty.”</p>
+
+<p>With such words of cold philosophy did Hansford strive to console the
+sad heart of Virginia.</p>
+
+<p>“'Tis true, the death I die,” he added with a shudder,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> “is what men
+call disgraceful—but the heart need feel no fear which is sheltered by
+the Rock of Ages.”</p>
+
+<p>“And yours is sheltered there, I know,” she said. “The change for you,
+though sudden and awful, must be happy; but for me! for me!—oh, God, my
+heart will break!”</p>
+
+<p>“Virginia, Virginia,” said Hansford, tenderly, as he tried with his poor
+manacled hands to support her almost fainting form, “control yourself.
+Oh, do not add to my sorrows by seeing you suffer thus. You have still
+many duties to perform—to soothe the declining years of your old
+parents—to cheer with your warm heart the many friends who love
+you—and, may I add,” he continued, with a faltering voice, “that my
+poor, poor mother will need your consolation. She will soon be without a
+protector on earth, and this sad news, I fear, will well nigh break her
+heart. To you, and to the kind hands of her merciful Father in heaven, I
+commit the charge of my widowed mother. Oh, will you not grant the last
+request of your own Hansford?”</p>
+
+<p>And Virginia promised, and well and faithfully did she redeem that
+promise. That widowed mother gained a daughter in the loss of her noble
+boy, and died blessing the pure-hearted girl, whose soothing affection
+had sweetened her bitter sorrows, and smoothed her pathway to the quiet
+grave.</p>
+
+<p>“And now, Mr. Bernard,” said Hansford, “it is useless to prolong this
+sad interview. We have been enemies. Forgive me if I have ever done you
+wrong—the prayers of a dying man are for your happiness. Farewell,
+Virginia, remember me to your kind old father and mother; and look you,”
+he added, with a sigh, “give this lock of my hair to my poor mother, and
+tell her that her orphan boy, who died blessing her, requested that she
+would place it in her old Bible, where I know she will often see it, and
+remember me when I am gone forever. Once more, Virginia, fare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> well!
+Remember, dearest, that this brief life is but a segment of the great
+circle of existence. The larger segment is beyond the grave. Then live
+on bravely, as I know you will virtuously, and we will meet in Heaven.”</p>
+
+<p>Without a word, for she dared not speak, Virginia received his last kiss
+upon her pale, cold forehead, and cherished it there as a seal of love,
+sacred as the sign of the Redeemer's cross, traced on the infant brow at
+the baptismal font.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XLIX" id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a>CHAPTER XLIX.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><div class="chap">
+<span class="i0">“Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With a woeful agony,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which forced me to begin my tale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And then it left me free.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since then, at an uncertain hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That agony returns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And till this ghastly tale is told<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My heart within me burns.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i14"><i>Rime of the Ancient Mariner.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>The sun shone brightly the next morning, as it rose above the forest of
+tall pines which surrounded the little village of Accomac; and as its
+rays stained the long icicles on the evergreen branches of the trees,
+they looked like the pendant jewels of amber which hung from the ears of
+the fierce, untutored chieftains of the forest. The air was clear and
+frosty, and the broad heaven, that hung like a blue curtain above the
+busy world, seemed even purer and more beautiful than ever. There, calm
+and eternal, it spread in its unclouded glory, above waters,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> woods,
+wilds, as if unmindful of the sorrows and the cares of earth. So hovers
+the wide providence of the eternal God over his creation, unmoved in its
+sublime depths by the joys and woes which agitate the mind of man, yet
+shining over him still, in its clear beauty, and beckoning him upwards!</p>
+
+<p>But on none did the sun shine with more brightness, or the sky smile
+with more bitter mockery, on that morning, than on the dark forms of
+Arthur Hutchinson and his young pupil, Alfred Bernard, as they sat
+together in the embrasure of the window which lightened the little room
+of the grave old preacher. A terrible revelation was that morning to be
+made, involving the fate of the young jesuit, and meting out a dread
+retribution for the crime that he had committed. Arthur Hutchinson had
+reserved for this day the narrative of the birth and history of Alfred
+Bernard. It had been a story which he long had desired to know, but to
+all his urgent inquiries the old preacher had given an evasive reply.
+But now there was no longer need for mystery. The design of that long
+silence had been fully accomplished, and thus the stern misanthrope
+began his narrative:</p>
+
+<p>“It matters little, Alfred Bernard, to speak of my own origin and
+parentage. Suffice it to say, that though not noble, by the accepted
+rules of heraldry, my parents were noble in that higher sense, in which
+all may aspire to true nobility, a patent not granted for bloody feats
+in arms, nor by an erring man, but granted to true honesty and virtue
+from the court of heaven. I was not rich, and yet, by self-denial on the
+part of my parents, and by strict economy on my own part, I succeeded in
+entering Baliol College, Oxford, where I pursued my studies with
+diligence and success. This success was more essential, because I could
+look only to my own resources in my struggle with the world. But, more
+than this, I had already learned to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> think and care for another than
+myself; for I had yielded my young heart to one, who requited my
+affection with her own. I have long denied myself the luxury of looking
+back upon the bright image of that fair creature, so fair, and yet so
+fatal. But for your sake, and for mine own, I will draw aside the veil,
+which has fallen upon those early scenes, and look at them again.</p>
+
+<p>“Mary Howard was just eighteen years of age, when she plighted her troth
+to me; and surely never has Heaven placed a purer spirit in a more
+lovely form. Trusting and affectionate, her warm heart must needs fasten
+upon something it might love; and because we had been reared together,
+and she was ignorant of the larger world around her, her love was fixed
+on me. I will not go back to those bright, joyous days of innocence and
+happiness. They are gone forever, Alfred Bernard, and I have lived, and
+now live for another object, than to indulge in the recollection of joy
+and love. The saddest day of my whole life, except one, and that has
+darkened all the rest, was when I first left her side to go to college.
+But still we looked onward with high hope, and many were the castles in
+the air, or rather the vine clad cottages, which we reared in fancy, for
+our future home. Hope, Alfred Bernard, though long deferred, it may
+sicken the heart, yet hope, however faint, is better than despair.</p>
+
+<p>“Well! I went to college, and my love for Mary spurred me on in my
+career, and honours came easily, but were only prized because she would
+be proud of them. But though I was a hard student, I was not without my
+friends, for I had a trusting heart then. Among these, yes, chief among
+these, was Edward Hansford.”</p>
+
+<p>Bernard started at the mention of that name. He felt that some dark
+mystery was about to be unravelled, which would establish his connection
+with the unhappy rebel.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> Yet he was lost in conjecture as to the
+character of the revelation.</p>
+
+<p>“I have never in my long experience,” continued Hutchinson, smiling
+sadly, as he observed the effect produced, “known any man who possessed,
+in so high a degree, the qualities which make men beloved and honoured.
+Brave, generous, and chivalrous; brilliant in genius, classical in
+attainment, profound in intellect. His person was a fit palace for such
+a mind and such a heart. Yes, I can think of him now as he was, when I
+first knew him, before crime of the deepest dye had darkened his soul. I
+loved him as I never had loved a man before, as I never can love a man
+again. I might forgive the past, I could never trust again.</p>
+
+<p>“Edward returned my love, I believe, with his whole heart. Our studies
+were the same, our feelings and opinions were congenial, and, in short,
+in the language of our great bard, we grew 'like a double cherry, only
+seeming parted.' I made him my confidant, and he used to laugh, in his
+good humoured way, at my enthusiastic description of Mary. He threatened
+to fall in love with her, himself, and to win her heart from me, and I
+dared him to do so, if he could; and even, in my joyous triumph, invited
+him home with me in vacation, that he might see the lovely conquest I
+had made. Well, home we went together, and his welcome was all that I or
+he could wish. Mary, my sweet, confiding Mary, was so kind and gentle,
+that I loved her only the more, because she loved my friend so much. I
+never dreamed of jealousy, Alfred Bernard, or I might have seen
+beforehand the wiles of the insidious tempter. How often have I looked
+with transport on their graceful forms, as they stood to watch the
+golden sunset, from that sweet old porch, over which the roses clambered
+so thickly.</p>
+
+<p>“But why do I thus delay. The story is at last a brief<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> one. It wanted
+but two days of our return to Oxford, and we were all spending the day
+together at old farmer Howard's. Mary seemed strangely sad that evening,
+and whenever I spoke to her, her eyes filled with tears, and she
+trembled violently. Fool that I was, I attributed her tears and her
+agitation to her regret at parting from her lover. Little did I suspect
+the terrible storm which awaited me. Well, we parted, as lovers part,
+with sighs and tears, but with me, and alas! with me alone in hope.
+Edward himself looked moody and low-spirited, and I recollect that to
+cheer him up, I rallied him on being in love with Mary. Never will I
+forget his look, now that the riddle is solved, as he replied, fixing
+his clear, intense blue eyes upon me, 'Arthur, the wisest philosophy is,
+not to trust your all in one venture. He who embarks his hopes and
+happiness in the heart of one woman, may make shipwreck of them all.'</p>
+
+<p>“'And so you, Mr. Philosopher,' I replied, gaily, 'would live and die an
+old bachelor. Now, for mine own part, with little Mary's love, I promise
+you that my baccalaureate degree at Oxford will be the only one to which
+I will aspire.'</p>
+
+<p>“He smiled, but said nothing, and we parted for the night.</p>
+
+<p>“Early the next morning, even before the sun had risen, I went to his
+room to wake him—for on that day we were to have a last hunt. We had
+been laying up a stock of health, by such manly exercises for the coming
+session. Intimate as I was with him, I did not hesitate to enter his
+room without announcing myself. To my surprise he was not there, and the
+bed had evidently not been occupied. As I was about to leave the room,
+in some alarm, my eye rested upon a letter, which was lying on the
+table, and addressed to me. With a trembling hand I tore it open,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> and
+oh, my God! it told me all—the faithlessness of my Mary, the villainy
+of my friend.”</p>
+
+<p>“The perfidious wretch,” cried Bernard, with indignation.</p>
+
+<p>“Beware, Alfred Bernard,” said the clergyman; “you know not what you
+say. My tale is not yet done. I remember every word of that brief letter
+now—although more than thirty years have since passed over me. It ran
+thus:</p>
+
+<p>“'Forgive me, Arthur; I meant not to have wronged you when I came, but
+in an unhappy moment temptation met me, and I yielded. My perfidy cannot
+be long concealed. Heaven has ordained that the fruit of our mutual
+guilt shall appear as the witness of my baseness and of Mary's shame.
+Forgive me, but above all, forgive her, Arthur.'</p>
+
+<p>“This was all. No name was even signed to the death warrant of all my
+hopes. At that moment a cold chill came over my heart, which has never
+left it since. That letter was the Medusa which turned it into stone. I
+did not rave—I did not weep. Believe me, Alfred Bernard, I was as calm
+at that moment as I am now. But the calmness was more terrible than open
+wrath. It was the sure indication of deep-rooted, deliberate revenge. I
+wrote a letter to my father, explaining every thing, and then saddling
+my horse, I turned his head towards old Howard's cottage, and rode like
+the lightning.</p>
+
+<p>“The old man was sitting in his shirt sleeves, in the porch. He saw me
+approach, and in his loud, hearty voice, which fell like fiendish
+mockery upon my ear, he cried out, 'Hallo, Arthur, my boy, come to say
+good-bye to your sweetheart again, hey! Well, that's right. You couldn't
+part like loveyers before the stranger and the old folks. Shall I call
+my little Molly down?”</p>
+
+<p>“'Old man,' I said, in a hollow, sepulchral voice, 'you have no
+daughter'—and throwing myself from my horse, I rushed into the house.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span>“I will not attempt to describe the scene which followed. How the old
+man rushed to her room, and the truth flashed upon his mind that she had
+fled with her guilty lover. How he threw himself upon the bed of his
+lost and ruined daughter, and a stranger before to tears, now wept
+aloud. And how he prayed with the fervor of one who prays for the
+salvation of a soul, that God would strike with the lightning of his
+wrath the destroyer of his peace, the betrayer of his daughter's virtue.
+Had Edward Hansford witnessed that scene, he had been punished enough
+even for his guilt.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, he deserted the trusting girl, and she returned to her now
+darkened home; but, alas, how changed! When her child was born, the
+innocent offspring of her guilt, in the care attending its nurture, the
+violent grief of the mother gave way to a calm and settled melancholy.
+All saw that the iron had entered her soul. Her old father died,
+blessing and forgiving her, and with touching regard for his memory, she
+refused to desecrate his pure name, by permitting the child of shame to
+bear it. She called it after a distant relation, who never heard of the
+dishonour thus attached to his name. A heart so pure as was the heart of
+Mary Howard, could not long bear up beneath this load of shame. She
+lingered about five years after the birth of her boy, and on her dying
+bed confided the child to me. There in that sacred hour, I vowed to rear
+and protect the little innocent, and by God's permission I have kept
+that vow.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, tell me, tell me,” said Bernard, wildly, “am I that child of guilt
+and shame.”</p>
+
+<p>“Alas! Alfred, my son, you are,” said the preacher, “but oh, you know
+not all the terrible vengeance which a mysterious heaven will this day
+visit on the children of your father.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span>As the awful truth gradually dawned upon him, Bernard cried with deep
+emotion.</p>
+
+<p>“And Edward Hansford! tell me what became of him?”</p>
+
+<p>“With the most diligent search I could hear nothing of him for years. At
+length I learned that he had come to Virginia, married a young lady of
+some fortune and family, and had at last been killed in a skirmish with
+the Indians, leaving an only son, an infant in arms, the only remaining
+comfort of his widowed mother.”</p>
+
+<p>“And that son,” cried Bernard, the perspiration bursting from his brow
+in the agony of the moment.</p>
+
+<p>“Is Thomas Hansford, who, I fear, this day meets his fate by a brother's
+and a rival's hand.”</p>
+
+<p>“I demand your proof,” almost shrieked the agitated fratricide.</p>
+
+<p>“The name first excited my suspicion,” returned Hutchinson, “and made me
+warn you from crossing his path, when I saw you the night of the ball at
+Jamestown. But confirmation was not wanting, for when this morning I
+visited his cell to administer the last consolations of religion to him,
+I saw him gazing upon the features in miniature of that very Edward, who
+was the author of Mary Howard's wrongs.”</p>
+
+<p>With a wild spring, Alfred Bernard bounded through the door, and as he
+rushed into the street, he heard the melancholy voice of the preacher,
+as he cried, “Too late, too late.”</p>
+
+<p>Regardless of that cry, the miserable fratricide rushed madly along the
+path which led to the place of execution, where the Governor and his
+staff in accordance with the custom of the times had assembled to
+witness the death of a traitor. The slow procession with the rude sledge
+on which the condemned man was dragged, was still seen in the distance,
+and the deep hollow sound of the muffled drum, told him too plainly that
+the brief space of time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> which remained, was drawing rapidly to a close.
+On, on, he sped, pushing aside the surprised populace who were
+themselves hastening to the gallows, to indulge the morbid passion to
+see the death and sufferings of a fellow man. The road seemed
+lengthening as he went, but urged forward by desperation, regardless of
+fatigue, he still ran swiftly toward the spot. He came to an angle of
+the road, where for a moment he lost sight of the gloomy spectacle, and
+in that moment he suffered the pangs of unutterable woe. Still the
+muffled drum, in its solemn tones assured him that there was yet a
+chance. But as he strained his eyes once more towards the fatal spot,
+the sound of merry music and the wild shouts of the populace fell like
+horrid mockery on his ear, for it announced that all was over.</p>
+
+<p>“Too late, too late,” he shrieked, in horror, as he fell prostrate and
+lifeless on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>And above that dense crowd, unheeding the wild shout of gratified
+vengeance that went up to heaven in that fearful moment, the soul of the
+generous and patriotic Hansford soared gladly on high with the spirits
+of the just, in the full enjoyment of perfect freedom.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Reader my tale is done! The spirits I have raised abandon me, and as
+their shadows pass slowly and silently away, the scenes that we have
+recounted seem like the fading phantoms of a dream.</p>
+
+<p>Yet has custom made it a duty to give some brief account of those who
+have played their parts in this our little drama. In the present case,
+the intelligent reader, familiar with the history of Virginia, will
+require our services but little.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span>History has relieved us of the duty of describing how bravely Thomas
+Hansford met his early fate, and how by his purity of life, and his
+calmness in death, he illustrated the noble sentiment of Corneile, that
+the crime and not the gallows constitutes the shame.</p>
+
+<p>History has told how William Berkeley, worn out by care and age, yielded
+his high functions to a milder sway, and returned to England to receive
+the reward of his rigour in his master's smile; and how that Charles
+Stuart, who with all his faults was not a cruel man, repulsed the stern
+old loyalist with a frown, and made his few remaining days dark and
+bitter.</p>
+
+<p>History has recorded the tender love of Berkeley for his wife, who long
+mourned his death, and at length dried her widowed tears on the warm and
+generous bosom of Philip Ludwell.</p>
+
+<p>And lastly, history has recorded how the masculine nature of Sarah
+Drummond, broken down with affliction and with poverty, knelt at the
+throne of her king to receive from his justice the broad lands of her
+husband, which had been confiscated by the uncompromising vengeance of
+Sir William Berkeley.</p>
+
+<p>Arthur Hutchinson, the victim of the treachery of his early friends,
+returned to England, and deprived of the sympathy of all, and of the
+companionship of Bernard, whose society had become essential to his
+happiness, pined away in obscurity, and died of a broken heart.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred Bernard, the treacherous friend, the heartless lover, the
+remorseful fratricide, could no longer raise his eyes to the betrothed
+mistress of his brother. He returned, with his patron, Sir William
+Berkeley, to his native land; and in the retirement of the old man's
+desolate home, he led a few years of deep remorse. Upon the death of his
+patron, his active spirit became impatient of the seclusion in which he
+had been buried, and true to his religion, if to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> naught else, he
+engaged in one of the popish plots, so common in the reign of Charles
+the Second, and at last met a rebel's fate.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel and Mrs. Temple, lived long and happily in each other's love;
+administering to the comfort of their bereaved child, and mutually
+sustaining each other, as they descended the hill of life, until they
+“slept peacefully together at its foot.” The events of the Rebellion,
+having been consecrated by being consigned to the glorious <i>past</i>,
+furnished a constant theme to the old lady—and late in life she was
+heard to say, that you could never meet now-a-days, such loyalty as then
+prevailed, nor among the rising generation of powdered fops, and
+flippant damsels, could you find such faithful hearts as Hansford's and
+Virginia's.</p>
+
+<p>And Virginia Temple, the gentle and trusting Virginia, was not entirely
+unhappy. The first agony of despair subsided into a gentle melancholy.
+Content in the performance of the quiet duties allotted to her, she
+could look back with calmness and even with a melancholy pleasure to the
+bright dream of her earlier days. She learned to kiss the rod which had
+smitten her, and which blossomed with blessings—and purified by
+affliction, her gentle nature became ripened for the sweet reunion with
+her Hansford, to which she looked forward with patient hope. The human
+heart, like the waters of Bethesda, needs often to be troubled to yield
+its true qualities of health and sweetness. Thus was it with Virginia,
+and in a peaceful resignation to her Father's will, she lived and passed
+away, moving through the world, like the wind of the sweet South,
+receiving and bestowing blessings.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<p class="center">THE END.<br /><br /><br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<p class="notes">Transciber's Notes:<br />
+Left inconsistent use of punctuation.<br />
+Page 19: Changed Virgnia to Virginia.<br />
+Page 210: Changed wantlng to wanting.<br />
+Page 228: Changed afaid to afraid.<br />
+Page 233: Changed Britian to Britain.<br />
+Page 242: Changed beseiged to besieged.<br />
+ Page 246: Left quote as: It is the cry of women, good, my lord<br />
+Page 278: Changed tinings to tidings.<br />
+Page 281: Changed requium to requiem.<br />
+Page 351: Changed pefidious to perfidious</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion, by 
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion, by
+St. George Tucker
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion
+
+Author: St. George Tucker
+
+Release Date: April 3, 2010 [EBook #31866]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BACON'S REBELLION ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Curtis Weyant, Joseph R. Hauser and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
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+
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+ +--------------------------------------------------------------------+
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+ +--------------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+Hansford:
+
+A TALE OF BACON'S REBELLION.
+
+
+
+
+BY ST. GEORGE TUCKER.
+
+
+
+
+    Rebellion! foul dishonouring word--
+      Whose wrongful blight so oft has stained
+    The holiest cause that, tongue or sword
+      Of mortal ever lost or gained.
+    How many a spirit, born to bless,
+      Hath sank beneath that withering name;
+    Whom but a day's, an hour's success,
+      Had wafted to eternal fame!
+                                      MOORE.
+
+
+
+
+RICHMOND, VA.:
+PUBLISHED BY GEORGE M. WEST
+BOSTON: PHILLIPS, SAMPSON & CO.
+1857.
+
+
+
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857,
+BY GEORGE M. WEST,
+In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Virginia.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+It is the design of the author, in the following pages, to illustrate
+the period of our colonial history, to which the story relates, and to
+show that this early struggle for freedom was the morning harbinger of
+that blessed light, which has since shone more and more unto the perfect
+day.
+
+Most of the characters introduced have their existence in real
+history--Hansford lived, acted and died in the manner here narrated, and
+a heart as pure and true as Virginia Temple's mourned his early doom.
+
+In one of those quaint old tracts, which the indefatigable antiquary,
+Peter Force, has rescued from oblivion, it is stated that Thomas
+Hansford, although a son of Mars, did sometimes worship at the shrine of
+Venus. It was his unwillingness to separate forever from the object of
+his love that led to his arrest, while lurking near her residence in
+Gloucester. From the meagre materials furnished by history of the
+celebrated rebellion of Nathaniel Bacon the following story has been
+woven.
+
+It were an object to be desired, both to author and to reader, that the
+fate of Thomas Hansford had been different. This could not be but by a
+direct violation of history. Yet the lesson taught in this simple story,
+it is hoped, is not without its uses to humanity. Though vice may
+triumph for a season, and virtue fail to meet its appropriate reward,
+yet nothing can confer on the first, nor snatch from the last, that
+substantial happiness which is ever afforded to the mind conscious of
+rectitude. The self-conviction which stings the vicious mind would make
+a diadem a crown of thorns. The _mens sibi conscia recti_ can make a
+gallows as triumphant as a throne. Such is the moral which the author
+designs to convey. If a darker punishment awaits the guilty, or a purer
+reward is in reserve for the virtuous, we must look for them to that
+righteous Judge, whose hand wields at once the sceptre of mercy and the
+sword of justice.
+
+And now having prepared this brief preface, to stand like a portico
+before his simple edifice, the author would cordially and respectfully
+make his bow, and invite his guests to enter. If his little volume is
+read, he will be amply repaid; if approved, he will be richly rewarded.
+
+
+
+
+HANSFORD.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1.
+
+    "The rose of England bloomed on Gertrude's cheek;
+    What though these shades had seen her birth? Her sire
+    A Briton's independence taught to seek
+    Far western worlds."
+                        _Gertrude of Wyoming._
+
+
+Among those who had been driven, by the disturbances in England, to seek
+a more quiet home in the wilds of Virginia, was a gentleman of the name
+of Temple. An Englishman by birth, he was an unwilling spectator of the
+revolution which erected the dynasty of Cromwell upon the ruins of the
+British monarchy. He had never been able to divest his mind of that
+loyal veneration in which Charles Stuart was held by so many of his
+subjects, whose better judgments, if consulted, would have prompted them
+to unite with the revolutionists. But it was a strong principle with
+that noble party, who have borne in history the distinguished name of
+Cavaliers, rarely to consult the dictates of reason in questions of
+ancient prejudice. They preferred rather to err blindly with the long
+line of their loyal forbears in submission to tyranny, than to subvert
+the ancient principles of government in the attainment of freedom. They
+saw no difference between the knife of the surgeon and the sword of the
+destroyer--between the wholesome medicine, administered to heal, and the
+deadly poison, given to destroy.
+
+Nor are these strong prejudices without their value in the
+administration of government, while they are absolutely essential to the
+guidance of a revolution. They retard and moderate those excesses which
+they cannot entirely control, and even though unable to avoid the
+_descensus Averni_, they render that easy descent less fatal and
+destructive. Nor is there anything in the history of revolutions more
+beautiful than this steady adherence to ancient principles--this
+faithful devotion to a fallen prince, when all others have forsaken him
+and fled. While man is capable of enjoying the blessings of freedom, the
+memory of Hampden will be cherished and revered; and yet there is
+something scarcely less attractive in the disinterested loyalty, the
+generous self-denial, of the devoted Hyde, who left the comforts of
+home, the pride of country and the allurements of fame, to join in the
+lonely wanderings of the banished Stuart.
+
+When at last the revolution was accomplished, and Charles and the hopes
+of the Stuarts seemed to sleep in the same bloody grave, Colonel Temple,
+unwilling longer to remain under the government of a usurper, left
+England for Virginia, to enjoy in the quiet retirement of this infant
+colony, the peace and tranquillity which was denied him at home. From
+this, the last resting place of the standard of loyalty, he watched the
+indications of returning peace, and with a proud and grateful heart he
+hailed the advent of the restoration. For many years an influential
+member of the House of Burgesses, he at last retired from the busy
+scenes of political life to his estate in Gloucester, which, with a
+touching veneration for the past, he called Windsor Hall. Here, happy in
+the retrospection of a well spent life, and cheered and animated by the
+affection of a devoted wife and lovely daughter, the old Loyalist looked
+forward with a tranquil heart to the change which his increasing years
+warned him could not be far distant.
+
+His wife, a notable dame of the olden time, who was selected, like the
+wife of the good vicar, for the qualities which wear best, was one of
+those thrifty, bountiful bodies, who care but little for the government
+under which they live, so long as their larders are well stored with
+provisions, and those around them are happy and contented. Possessed of
+a good mind, and of a kind heart, she devoted herself to the true
+objects of a woman's life, and reigned supreme at home. Even when her
+husband had been immersed in the cares and stirring events of the
+revolution, and she was forced to hear the many causes of complaint
+urged against the government and stoutly combatted by the Colonel, the
+good dame had felt far more interest in market money than in ship
+money--in the neatness of her own chamber, than in the purity of the
+Star Chamber--and, in short, forgot the great principles of political
+economy in her love for the more practical science of domestic economy.
+We have said that at home Mrs. Temple reigned supreme, and so indeed she
+did. Although the good Colonel held the reins, she showed him the way to
+go, and though he was the nominal ruler of his little household, she was
+the power behind the throne, which even the throne submissively
+acknowledged to be greater than itself.
+
+Yet, for all this, Mrs. Temple was an excellent woman, and devoted to
+her husband's interests. Perhaps it was but natural that, although with
+a willing heart, and without a murmur, she had accompanied him to
+Virginia, she should, with a laudable desire to impress him with her
+real worth, advert more frequently than was agreeable to the heavy
+sacrifice which she had made. Nay more, we have but little doubt that
+the bustle and self-annoyance, the flurry and bluster, which always
+attended her domestic preparations, were considered as a requisite
+condiment to give relish to her food. We are at least certain of this,
+that her frequent strictures on the dress, and criticisms on the manners
+of her husband, arose from her real pride, and from her desire that to
+the world he should appear the noble perfection which he was to her.
+This the good Colonel fully understood, and though sometimes chafed by
+her incessant taunts, he knew her real worth, and had long since learned
+to wear his fetters as an ornament.
+
+Since their arrival in Virginia, Heaven had blessed the happy pair with
+a lovely daughter--a bliss for which they long had hoped and prayed, but
+hoped and prayed in vain. If hope deferred, however, maketh the heart
+sick, it loses none of its freshness and delight when it is at last
+realized, and the fond hearts of her parents were overflowing with love
+for this their only child. At the time at which our story commences,
+Virginia Temple (she was called after the fair young colony which gave
+her birth) had just completed her nineteenth year. Reared for the most
+part in the retirement of the country, she was probably not possessed of
+those artificial manners, which disguise rather than adorn the gay
+butterflies that flutter in the fashionable world, and which passes for
+refinement; but such conventional proprieties no more resemble the
+innate refinement of soul which nature alone can impart, than the
+plastered rouge of an old faded dowager resembles the native rose which
+blushes on a healthful maiden's cheek. There was in lieu of all this, in
+the character of Virginia Temple, a freshness of feeling and artless
+frankness, and withal a refined delicacy of sentiment and expression,
+which made the fair young girl the pride and the ornament of the little
+circle in which she moved.
+
+Under the kind tuition of her father, who, in his retired life,
+delighted to train her mind in wholesome knowledge, she possessed a
+great advantage over the large majority of her sex, whose education, at
+that early period, was wofully deficient. Some there were indeed (and in
+this respect the world has not changed much in the last two centuries),
+who were tempted to sneer at accomplishments superior to their own, and
+to hint that a book-worm and a bluestocking would never make a useful
+wife. But such envious insinuations were overcome by the care of her
+judicious mother, who spared no pains to rear her as a useful as well as
+an accomplished woman. With such a fortunate education, Virginia grew up
+intelligent, useful and beloved; and her good old father used often to
+say, in his bland, gentle manner, that he knew not whether his little
+Jeanie was more attractive when, with her favorite authors, she stored
+her mind with refined and noble sentiments, or when, in her little check
+apron and plain gingham dress, she assisted her busy mother in the
+preparation of pickles and preserves.
+
+There was another source of happiness to the fair Virginia, in which she
+will be more apt to secure the sympathy of our gentler readers. Among
+the numerous suitors who sought her hand, was one who had early gained
+her heart, and with none of the cruel crosses, as yet, which the young
+and inexperienced think add piquancy to the bliss of love; with the full
+consent of her parents, she had candidly acknowledged her preference,
+and plighted her troth, with all the sincerity of her young heart, to
+the noble, the generous, the brave Thomas Hansford.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+    "Heaven forming each on other to depend,
+    A master, or a servant, or a friend,
+    Bids each on other for assistance call,
+    Till one man's weakness grows the strength of all.
+    Wants, frailties, passions, closer still ally
+    The common interest, or endear the tie.
+    To these we owe true friendship, love sincere,
+    Each homefelt joy that life inherits here."
+                                            _Essay on Man._
+
+
+Begirt with love and blessed with contentment, the little family at
+Windsor Hall led a life of quiet, unobtrusive happiness. In truth, if
+there be a combination of circumstances peculiarly propitious to
+happiness, it will be found to cluster around one of those old colonial
+plantations, which formed each within itself a little independent
+barony. There first was the proprietor, the feudal lord, proud of his
+Anglo-Saxon blood, whose ambition was power and personal freedom, and
+whose highest idea of wealth was in the possession of the soil he
+cultivated. A proud feeling was it, truly, to claim a portion of God's
+earth as his own; to stand upon his own land, and looking around, see
+his broad acres bounded only by the blue horizon walls,[1] and feel in
+its full force the whole truth of the old law maxim, that he owned not
+only the surface of the soil, but even to the centre of the earth, and
+the zenith of the heavens.[2] There can be but little doubt that the
+feelings suggested by such reflections are in the highest degree
+favorable to the development of individual freedom, so peculiar to the
+Anglo-Saxon race, and so stoutly maintained, especially among an
+agricultural people. This respect for the ownership of land is
+illustrated by the earliest legislation, which held sacred the title to
+the soil even from the grasp of the law, and which often restrained the
+freeholder from alienating his land from the lordly but unborn
+aristocrat to whom it should descend.
+
+Next in the scale of importance in this little baronial society, were
+the indented servants, who, either for felony or treason, were sent over
+to the colony, and bound for a term of years to some one of the
+planters. In some cases, too, the poverty of the emigrant induced him to
+submit voluntarily to indentures with the captain of the ship which
+brought him to the colony, as some compensation for his passage. These
+servants, we learn, had certain privileges accorded to them, which were
+not enjoyed by the slave: the service of the former was only temporary,
+and after the expiration of their term they became free citizens of the
+colony. The female servants, too, were limited in their duties to such
+employments as are generally assigned to women, such as cooking, washing
+and housework; while it was not unusual to see the negro women, as even
+now, in many portions of the State, managing the plough, hoeing the
+maize, worming and stripping the tobacco, and harvesting the grain. The
+colonists had long remonstrated against the system of indented servants,
+and denounced the policy which thus foisted upon an infant colony the
+felons and the refuse population of the mother country. But, as was too
+often the case, their petitions and remonstrances were treated with
+neglect, or spurned with contempt. Besides being distasteful to them as
+freemen and Cavaliers, the indented servants had already evinced a
+restlessness under restraint, which made them dangerous members of the
+body politic. In 1662, a servile insurrection was secretly organized,
+which had well nigh proved fatal to the colony. The conspiracy was
+however betrayed by a certain John Berkenhead, one of the leaders in the
+movement, who was incited to the revelation by the hope of reward for
+his treachery; nor was the hope vain. Grateful for their deliverance,
+the Assembly voted this man his liberty, compensated his master for the
+loss of his services, and still further rewarded him by a bounty of five
+thousand pounds of tobacco. Of this reckless and abandoned wretch, we
+will have much to say hereafter.
+
+Another feature in this patriarchal system of government was the right
+of property in those inferior races of men, who from their nature are
+incapable of a high degree of liberty, and find their greatest
+development, and their truest happiness, in a condition of servitude.
+Liberty is at last a reward to be attained after a long struggle, and
+not the inherent right of every man. It is the sword which becomes a
+weapon of power and defence in the hands of the strong, brave, rational
+man, but a dangerous plaything when entrusted to the hands of madmen or
+children. And thus, by the mysterious government of Him, who rules the
+earth in righteousness, has it been wisely ordained, that they only who
+are worthy of freedom shall permanently possess it.
+
+The mutual relations established by the institution of domestic slavery
+were beneficial to both parties concerned. The Anglo-Saxon baron
+possessed power, which he has ever craved, and concentration and unity
+of will, which was essential to its maintenance. But that power was
+tempered, and that will controlled, by the powerful motives of policy,
+as well as by the dictates of justice and mercy. The African serf, on
+the other hand, was reduced to slavery, which, from his very nature, he
+is incapable of despising; and an implicit obedience to the will of his
+master was essential to the preservation of the relation. But he, too,
+derived benefits from the institution, which he has never acquired in
+any other condition; and trusting to the justice, and relying on the
+power of his master to provide for his wants, he lived a contented and
+therefore a happy life. Improvident himself by nature, his children were
+reared without his care, through the helpless period of infancy, while
+he was soothed and cheered in the hours of sickness, and protected and
+supported in his declining years. The history of the world does not
+furnish another example of a laboring class who could rely with
+confidence on such wages as competency and contentment.
+
+In a new colony, where there was but little attraction as yet, for
+tradesmen to emigrate, the home of the planter became still more
+isolated and independent. Every landholder had not only the slaves to
+cultivate his soil and to attend to his immediate wants, but he had also
+slaves educated and skilled in various trades. Thus, in this busy hive,
+the blaze of the forge was seen and the sound of the anvil was heard, in
+repairing the different tools and utensils of the farm; the shoemaker
+was found at his last, the spinster at her wheel, and the weaver at the
+loom. Nor has this system of independent reliance on a plantation for
+its own supplies been entirely superseded at the present day. There may
+still be found, in some sections of Virginia, plantations conducted on
+this principle, where the fleece is sheared, and the wool is carded,
+spun, woven and made into clothing by domestic labor, and where a few
+groceries and finer fabrics of clothing are all that are required, by
+the independent planter, from the busy world beyond his little domain.
+
+Numerous as were the duties and responsibilities that devolved upon the
+planter, he met them with cheerfulness and discharged them with
+faithfulness. The dignity of the master was blended with the kind
+attention of the friend on the one hand, and the obedience of the slave,
+with the fidelity of a grateful dependent, on the other. And thus was
+illustrated, in their true beauty, the blessings of that much abused
+but happy institution, which should ever remain, as it has ever been
+placed by the commentators of our law, next in position, as it is in
+interest, to the tender relation of parent and child.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] The immense grants taken up by early patentees, in this country,
+justifies this language, which might otherwise seem an extravagant
+hyperbole.
+
+[2] _Cujus est solum, ejus est usque ad coelum._
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+    "An old worshipful gentleman, who had a great estate,
+    That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate,--
+      With an old lady whose anger one word assuages,--
+              Like an old courtier of the queen's,
+              And the queen's old courtier."
+                                          _Old Ballad._
+
+
+A pleasant home was that old Windsor Hall, with its broad fields in
+cultivation around it, and the dense virgin forest screening it from
+distant view, with the carefully shaven sward on the velvet lawn in
+front, and the tall forest poplars standing like sentries in front of
+the house, and the venerable old oak tree at the side, with the rural
+wooden bench beneath it, where Hansford and Virginia used to sit and
+dream of future happiness, while the tame birds were singing sweetly to
+their mates in the green branches above them. And the house, too, with
+its quaint old frame, its narrow windows, and its substantial furniture,
+all brought from England and put down here in this new land for the
+comfort of the loyal old colonist. It had been there for years, that old
+house, and the moss and lichen had fastened on its shelving roof, and
+the luxuriant vine had been trained to clamber closely by its sides,
+exposing its red trumpet flowers to the sun; while the gay humming-bird,
+with her pretty dress of green and gold, sucked their honey with her
+long bill, and fluttered her little wings in the mild air so swiftly
+that you could scarcely see them. Then there was that rude but
+comfortable old porch, destined to as many uses as the chest of drawers
+in the tavern of the Deserted Village. Protected by its sheltering roof
+alike from rain and sunshine, it was often used, in the mild summer
+weather, as a favorite sitting-room, and sometimes, too, converted into
+a dining-room. There, too, might be seen, suspended from the nails and
+wooden pegs driven into the locust pillars, long specimen ears of corn,
+samples of grain, and different garden seeds tied up in little linen
+bags; and in the strange medley, Mrs. Temple had hung some long strings
+of red pepper-pods, sovereign specifics in cases of sore throat, but
+which seemed, among so many objects of greater interest, to blush with
+shame at their own inferiority. It was not yet the season when the broad
+tobacco leaf, brown with the fire of curing, was exhibited, and formed
+the chief staple of conversation, as well as of trade, with the old
+crony planters. The wonderful plant was just beginning to suffer from
+the encroaches of the worm, the only animal, save man, which is
+life-proof against the deadly nicotine of this cultivated poison.
+
+In this old porch the little family was gathered on a beautiful evening
+towards the close of June, in the year 1676. The sun, not yet set, was
+just sinking below the tall forest, and was dancing and flickering
+gleefully among the trees, as if rejoicing that he had nearly finished
+his long day's journey. Colonel Temple had just returned from his
+evening survey of his broad fields of tobacco, and was quietly smoking
+his pipe, for, like most of his fellow colonists, he was an inveterate
+consumer of this home production. His good wife was engaged in knitting,
+an occupation now almost fallen into disuse among ladies, but then a
+very essential part of the duties of a large plantation. Virginia, with
+her tambour frame before her, but which she had neglected in the reverie
+of her own thoughts, was caressing the noble St. Bernard dog which lay
+at her feet, who returned her caresses by a grateful whine, as he licked
+the small white hand of his mistress. This dog, a fine specimen of that
+noble breed, was a present from Hansford, and for that reason, as well
+as for his intrinsic merits, was highly prized, and became her constant
+companion in her woodland rambles in search of health and wild flowers.
+With all the vanity of a conscious favorite, Nestor regarded with well
+bred contempt the hounds that stalked in couples about the yard, in
+anxious readiness for the next chase.
+
+As the young girl was thus engaged, there was an air of sadness in her
+whole mien--such a stranger to her usually bright, happy face, that it
+did not escape her father's notice.
+
+"Why, Jeanie," he said, in the tender manner which he always used
+towards her, "you are strangely silent this evening. Has anything gone
+wrong with my little daughter?"
+
+"No, father," she replied, "at least nothing that I am conscious of. We
+cannot be always gay or sad at our pleasure, you know."
+
+"Nay, but at least," said the old gentleman, "Nestor has been
+disobedient, or old Giles is sick, or you have been working yourself
+into a sentimental sadness over Lady Willoughby's[3] troubles."
+
+"No, dear father; though, in reality, that melancholy story might well
+move a stouter heart than mine."
+
+"Well, confess then," said her father, "that, like the young French
+gentleman in Prince Arthur's days, you are sad as night only for
+wantonness. But what say you, mother, has anything gone wrong in
+household affairs to cross Virginia?"
+
+"No, Mr. Temple," said the old lady. "Certainly, if Virginia is cast
+down at the little she has to do, I don't know what ought to become of
+me. But that's a matter of little consequence. Old people have had their
+day, and needn't expect much sympathy."
+
+"Indeed, dear mother," said Virginia, "I do not complain of anything
+that I have to do. I know that you do not entrust as much to me as you
+ought, or as I wish. I assure you, that if anything has made me sad, it
+is not you, dear mother," she added, as she tenderly kissed her mother.
+
+"Oh, I know that, my dear; but your father seems to delight in always
+charging me with whatever goes wrong. Goodness knows, I toil from Monday
+morning till Saturday night for you all, and this is all the thanks I
+get. And if I were to work my old fingers to the bone, it would be all
+the same. Well, it won't last always."
+
+To this assault Colonel Temple knew the best plan was not to reply. He
+had learned from sad experience the truth of the old adages, that
+"breath makes fire hotter," and that "the least said is soonest mended."
+He only signified his consciousness of what had been said by a quiet
+shrug of the shoulders, and then resumed his conversation with Virginia.
+
+"Well then, my dear, I am at a loss to conjecture the cause of your
+sadness, and must throw myself upon your indulgence to tell me or not,
+as you will. I don't think you ever lost anything by confiding in your
+old father."
+
+"I know I never did," said Virginia, with a gentle sigh, "and it is for
+the very reason that you always make my foolish little sorrows your own,
+that I am unwilling to trouble you with them. But really, on the present
+occasion--I scarcely know what to tell you."
+
+"Then why that big pearl in your eye?" returned her father. "Ah, you
+little rogue, I have found you out at last. Mother, I have guessed the
+riddle. Somebody has not been here as often lately as he should. Now
+confess, you silly girl, that I have guessed your secret."
+
+The big tears that swam in his daughter's blue eyes, and then rolling
+down, dried themselves upon her cheek, told the truth too plainly to
+justify denial.
+
+"I really think Virginia has some reason to complain," said her mother.
+"It is now nearly three weeks since Mr. Hansford was here. A young
+lawyer's business don't keep him so much employed as to prevent these
+little courteous attentions."
+
+"We used to be more attentive in our day, didn't we, old lady?" said
+Colonel Temple, as he kissed his good wife's cheek.
+
+This little demonstration entirely wiped away the remembrance of her
+displeasure. She returned the salutation with an affectionate smile, as
+she replied,
+
+"Yes, indeed, Henry; if there was less sentiment, there was more real
+affection in those days. Love was more in the heart then, and less out
+of books, than now."
+
+"Oh, but we were not without our little sentiments, too. Virginia, it
+would have done you good to have seen how gaily your mother danced round
+the May-pole, with her courtly train, as the fair queen of them all; and
+how I, all ruffs and velvet, at the head of the boys, and on bended
+knee, begged her majesty to accept the homage of our loyal hearts. Don't
+you remember, Bessy, the grand parliament, when we voted you eight
+subsidies, and four fifteenths to be paid in flowers and candy, for your
+grand coronation?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" said the old lady; "and then the coronation itself, with the
+throne made of the old master's desk, all nicely carpeted and decorated
+with flowers and evergreen; and poor Billy Newton, with his long, solemn
+face, a paste-board mitre, and his sister's night-gown for a pontifical
+robe, acting the Archbishop of Canterbury, and placing the crown upon my
+head!"
+
+"And the game of Barley-break in the evening," said the Colonel, fairly
+carried away by the recollections of these old scenes, "when you and I,
+hand in hand, pretended only to catch the rest, and preferred to remain
+together thus, in what we called the hell, because we felt that it was a
+heaven to us."[4]
+
+"Oh, fie, for shame!" said the old lady. "Ah, well, they don't have such
+times now-a-days."
+
+"No, indeed," said her husband; "old Noll came with his nasal twang and
+puritanical cant, and dethroned May-queens as well as royal kings, and
+his amusements were only varied by a change from a hypocritical sermon
+to a psalm-singing conventicle."
+
+Thus the old folks chatted on merrily, telling old stories, which,
+although Virginia had heard them a hundred times and knew them all by
+heart, she loved to hear again. She had almost forgotten her own sadness
+in this occupation of her mind, when her father said--
+
+"But, Bessy, we had almost forgotten, in our recollections of the past,
+that our little Jeanie needs cheering up. You should remember, my
+daughter, that if there were any serious cause for Mr. Hansford's
+absence, he would have written to you. Some trivial circumstance, or
+some matter of business, has detained him from day to day. He will be
+here to-morrow, I have no doubt."
+
+"I know I ought not to feel anxious," said Virginia, her lip quivering
+with emotion; "he has so much to do, not only in his profession, but his
+poor old mother needs his presence a great deal now; she was far from
+well when he was last here."
+
+"Well, I respect him for that," said her mother. "It is too often the
+case with these young lovers, that when they think of getting married,
+and doing for themselves, the poor old mothers are laid on the shelf."
+
+"And yet," continued Virginia, "I have a kind of presentiment that all
+may not be right with him. I know it is foolish, but I can't--I can't
+help it?"
+
+"These presentiments, my child," said her father, who was not without
+some of the superstition of the time, "although like dreams, often sent
+by the Almighty for wise purposes, are more often but the phantasies of
+the imagination. The mind, when unable to account for circumstances by
+reason, is apt to torment itself with its own fancy--and this is wrong,
+Jeanie."
+
+"I know all this," replied Virginia, "and yet have no power to prevent
+it. But," she added, smiling through her tears, "I will endeavor to be
+more cheerful, and trust for better things."
+
+"That's a good girl; I assure you I would rather hear you laugh once
+than to see you cry a hundred times," said the old man, repeating a
+witticism that Virginia had heard ever since her childish trials and
+tears over broken dolls or tangled hair. The idea was so grotesque and
+absurd, that the sweet girl laughed until she cried again.
+
+"Besides," added her father, "I heard yesterday that that pestilent
+fellow, Bacon, was in arms again, and it may be necessary for Berkeley
+to use some harsh means to punish his insolence. I would not be at all
+surprised if Hansford were engaged in this laudable enterprise."
+
+"God, in his mercy, forbid," said Virginia, in a faint voice.
+
+"And why, my daughter? Would you shrink from lending the services of him
+you love to your country, in her hour of need?"
+
+"But the danger, father!"
+
+"There can be but little danger in an insurrection like this. Strong
+measures will soon suppress it. Nay, the very show of organized and
+determined resistance will strike terror into the white hearts of these
+cowardly knaves. But if this were not so, the duty would be only
+stronger."
+
+"Yes, Virginia," said her mother. "No one knows more than I, how hard it
+is for a woman to sacrifice her selfish love to her country. But in my
+day we never hesitated, and I was happy in my tears, when I saw your
+father going forth to fight for his king and country. There was none of
+your 'God forbid' then, and you need not expect to be more free from
+trials than those who have gone before you."
+
+There was no real unkindness meant in this speech of Mrs. Temple, but,
+as we have before reminded the reader, she took especial delight in
+magnifying her own joys and her own trials, and in making an invidious
+comparison of the present day with her earlier life, always to the
+prejudice of the former. Tenderly devoted to her daughter, and deeply
+sympathizing in her distress, she yet could not forego the pleasure of
+reverting to the time when she too had similar misfortunes, which she
+had borne with such exemplary fortitude. To be sure, this heroism
+existed only in the dear old lady's imagination, for no one gave way to
+trials with more violent grief than she. Virginia, though accustomed to
+her mother's peculiar temper, was yet affected by her language, and her
+tears flowed afresh.
+
+"Cheer up, my daughter," said her father, "these tears are not only
+unworthy of you, but they are uncalled for now. This is at last but
+conjecture of mine, and I have no doubt that Hansford is well and as
+happy as he can be away from you. But you would have proved a sad
+heroine in the revolution. I don't think you would imitate successfully
+the bravery and patriotism of Lady Willoughby, whose memoirs you have
+been reading. Oh! that was a day for heroism, when mothers devoted their
+sons, and wives their husbands, to the cause of England and of loyalty,
+almost without a tear."
+
+"I thank God," said the weeping girl, "that he has not placed me in such
+trying scenes. With all my admiration for the courage of my ancestors, I
+have no ambition to suffer their dangers and distress."
+
+"Well, my dear," replied her father, "I trust you may never be called
+upon to do so. But if such should be your fate, I also trust that you
+have a strong heart, which would bear you through the trial. Come now,
+dry your tears, and let me hear you sing that old favorite of mine,
+written by poor Dick Lovelace. His Lucasta[5] must have been something
+of the same mind as my Virginia, if she reproved him for deserting her
+for honour."
+
+"Oh, father, I feel the justice of your rebuke. I know that none but a
+brave woman deserves the love of a brave man. Will you forgive me?"
+
+"Forgive you, my daughter?--yes, if you have done anything to be
+forgiven. Your old father, though his head is turned gray, has still a
+warm place in his heart for all your distresses, my child; and that
+heart will be cold in death before it ceases to feel for you. But come,
+I must not lose my song, either."
+
+And Virginia, her sweet voice rendered more touchingly beautiful by her
+emotion, sang the noble lines, which have almost atoned for all the
+vanity and foppishness of their unhappy author.
+
+    "Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,
+      If from the nunnery
+    Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind,
+      To war and arms I fly.
+
+    "True, a new mistress now I chase,
+      The first foe in the field,
+    And with a stronger faith embrace
+      The sword, the horse, the shield.
+
+    "Yet, this inconstancy is such
+      As you too shall adore;
+    I had not loved thee, dear, so much,
+      Loved I not honour more!"
+
+"Yes," repeated the old patriot, as the last notes of the sweet voice
+died away; "yes, 'I had not loved thee, dear, so much, loved I not
+honour more!' This is the language of the truly noble lover. Without a
+heart which rises superior to itself, in its devotion to honour, it is
+impossible to love truly. Love is not a pretty child, to be crowned with
+roses, and adorned with trinkets, and wooed by soft music. To the truly
+brave, it is a god to be worshipped, a reward to be attained, and to be
+attained only in the path of honour!"
+
+"I think," said Mrs. Temple, looking towards the wood, "that Virginia's
+song acted as an incantation. If I mistake not, Master Hansford is even
+now coming to explain his own negligence."
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[3] I have taken these beautiful memoirs, now known to be the production
+of a modern pen, to be genuine. Their truthfulness to nature certainly
+will justify me in such a liberty.
+
+[4] The modern reader will need some explanation of this old game, whose
+terms seem, to the refined ears of the present day, a little profane.
+Barley-break resembled a game which I have seen played in my own time,
+called King Cantelope, but with some striking points of difference. In
+the old game, the play-ground was divided into three parts of equal
+size, and the middle of these sections was known by the name of hell.
+The boy and girl, whose position was in this place, were to attempt,
+with joined hands, to catch those who should try to pass from one
+section to the other. As each one was caught, he became a recruit for
+the couple in the middle, and the last couple who remained uncaught took
+the places of those in hell, and thus the game commenced again.
+
+[5] The lady to whom the song is addressed. It may be found in Percy's
+Reliques, or in almost any volume of old English poetry.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+    "Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dressed,
+    Fresh as a bridegroom."
+                                          _Henry IV._
+
+
+In truth a young man, well mounted on a powerful bay, was seen
+approaching from the forest, that lay towards Jamestown. Virginia's
+cheek flushed with pleasure as she thought how soon all her fears would
+vanish away in the presence of her lover--and she laughed confusedly, as
+her father said,
+
+"Aye, come dry your tears, you little rogue--those eyes are not as
+bright as Hansford would like to see. Tears are very pretty in poetry
+and fancy, but when associated with swelled eyes and red noses, they
+lose something of their sentiment."
+
+As the horseman came nearer, however, Virginia found to her great
+disappointment, that the form was not that of Hansford, and with a deep
+sigh she went into the house. The stranger, who now drew up to the door,
+proved to be a young man of about thirty years of age, tall and
+well-proportioned, his figure displaying at once symmetrical beauty and
+athletic strength. He was dressed after the fashion of the day, in a
+handsome velvet doublet, trussed with gay-colored points at the waist to
+the breeches, which reaching only to the knee, left the finely turned
+leg well displayed in the closely-fitting white silk stockings. Around
+his wrists and neck were revealed graceful ruffles of the finest
+cambric. The heavy boots, which were usually worn by cavaliers, were in
+this case supplied by shoes fastened with roses of ribands. A handsome
+sword, with ornamented hilt, and richly chased scabbard, was secured
+gracefully by his side in its fringed hanger. The felt hat, whose wide
+brim was looped up and secured by a gold button in front, completed the
+costume of the young stranger. The abominable fashion of periwigs, which
+maintained its reign over the realm of fashion for nearly a century, was
+just beginning to be introduced into the old country, and had not yet
+been received as orthodox in the colony. The rich chestnut hair of the
+stranger fell in abundance over his fine shoulders, and was parted
+carefully in the middle to display to its full advantage his broad
+intellectual forehead. But in compliance with custom, his hair was
+dressed with the fashionable love-locks, plaited and adorned with
+ribands, and falling foppishly over either ear.
+
+But dress, at last, like "rank, is but the guinea's stamp, the man's the
+gowd for a' that," and in outward appearance at least, the stranger was
+of no alloyed metal. There was in his air that easy repose and
+self-possession which is always perceptible in those whose life has been
+passed in association with the refined and cultivated. But still there
+was something about his whole manner, which seemed to betray the fact,
+that this habitual self-possession, this frank and easy carriage was the
+result of a studied and constant control over his actions, rather than
+those of a free and ingenuous heart.
+
+This idea, however, did not strike the simple minded Virginia, as with
+natural, if not laudable curiosity, she surveyed the handsome young
+stranger through the window of the hall. The kind greeting of the
+hospitable old colonel having been given, the stranger dismounted, and
+the fine bay that he rode was committed to the protecting care of a
+grinning young African in attendance, who with his feet dangling from
+the stirrups trotted him off towards the stable.
+
+"I presume," said the stranger, as they walked towards the house, "that
+from the directions I have received, I have the honor of seeing Colonel
+Temple. It is to the kindness of Sir William Berkeley that I owe the
+pleasure I enjoy in forming your acquaintance, sir," and he handed a
+letter from his excellency, which the reader may take the liberty of
+reading with us, over Colonel Temple's shoulder.
+
+     "Bight trusty old friend," ran the quaint and formal, yet familiar
+     note. "The bearer of these, Mr. Alfred Bernard, a youth of good and
+     right rare merit, but lately from England, and whom by the especial
+     confidence reposed in him from our noble kinsman Lord Berkeley, we
+     have made our private secretary, hath desired acquaintance with
+     some of the established gentlemen in the colony, the better for his
+     own improvement, to have their good society. And in all good faith,
+     there is none, to whom I can more readily commend him, than Colonel
+     Henry Temple, with the more perfect confidence in his desire to
+     oblige him, who is always as of yore, his right good friend,
+
+                                                "WILLIAM BERKELEY, Kn't.
+                  "_From our Palace at Jamestown, June 20, A. D. 1676._"
+
+"It required not this high commendation, my dear sir," said old Temple,
+pressing his guest cordially by the hand, "to bid you welcome to my poor
+roof. But I now feel that to be a special honour, which would otherwise
+be but the natural duty of hospitality. Come, right welcome to Windsor
+Hall."
+
+With these words they entered the house, where Alfred Bernard was
+presented to the ladies, and paid his devoirs with such knightly grace,
+that Virginia admired, and Mrs. Temple heartily approved, a manner and
+bearing, which, she whispered to her daughter, was worthy of the old
+cavalier days before the revolution. Supper was soon announced--not the
+awkward purgatorial meal, perilously poised in cups, and eaten with
+greasy fingers--so dire a foe to comfort and silk dresses--but the
+substantial supper of the olden time. It is far from our intention to
+enter into minute details, yet we cannot refrain from adverting to the
+fact that the good old cavalier grace was said by the Colonel, with as
+much solemnity as his cheerful face would wear--that grace which gave
+such umbrage to the Puritans with their sour visages and long prayers,
+and which consisted of those three expressive words, "God bless us."
+
+"I have always thought," said the Colonel, apologetically, "that this
+was enough--for where's the use of praying over our meals, until they
+get so cold and cheerless, that there is less to be thankful for."
+
+"Especially," said Bernard, chiming in at once with the old man's
+prejudices, "when this brief language contains all that is
+necessary--for even Omnipotence can but bless us--and we may easily
+leave the mode to Him."
+
+"Well said, young man, and now come and partake of our homely fare,
+seasoned with a hearty welcome," said the Colonel, cordially.
+
+Nor loth was Alfred Bernard to do full justice to the ample store before
+him. A ride of more than thirty miles had whetted an appetite naturally
+good, and the youth of "right rare merit," did not impress his kind host
+very strongly with his conversational powers during his hearty meal.
+
+The repast being over, the little party retired to a room, which the old
+planter was pleased to call his study, but which savored far more of the
+presence of the sportive Diana, than of the reflecting muses. Over the
+door, as you entered the room, were fastened the large antlers of some
+noble deer, who had once bounded freely and gracefully through his
+native forest. Those broad branches are now, by a sad fatality, doomed
+to support the well oiled fowling-piece that laid their wearer low.
+Fishing tackle, shot-pouches, fox brushes, and other similar evidences
+and trophies of sport, testified to the Colonel's former delight in
+angling and the chase; but now alas! owing to the growing infirmities of
+age, though he still cherished his pack, and encouraged the sport, he
+could only start the youngsters in the neighborhood, and give them God
+speed! as with horses, hounds, and horns they merrily scampered away in
+the fresh, early morning. But with his love for these active, manly
+sports, Colonel Temple was devoted to reading such works as ran with his
+prejudices, and savored of the most rigid loyalty. His books, indeed,
+were few, for in that day it was no easy matter to procure books at all,
+especially for the colonists, who cut off from the great fountain of
+literature which was then just reviving from the severe drought of
+puritanism, were but sparingly supplied with the means of information.
+But a few months later than the time of which we write, Sir William
+Berkeley boasted that education was at a low ebb in Virginia, and
+thanked his God that so far there were neither free schools nor printing
+presses in the colony--the first instilling and the last disseminating
+rebellious sentiments among the people. Yet under all these
+disadvantages, Colonel Temple was well versed in the literature of the
+last two reigns, and with some of the more popular works of the present.
+Shakspeare was his constant companion, and the spring to which he often
+resorted to draw supplies of wisdom. But Milton was held in especial
+abhorrence--for the prose writings of the eloquent old republican
+condemned unheard the sublime strains of his divine poem.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+    "A man in all the world's new fashion planted,
+    That hath a mint of phrases in his brain;
+    One, whom the music of his own vain tongue,
+    Doth ravish like enchanting harmony;
+    A man of compliments." _Love's Labor Lost._
+
+
+"Well, Mr. Bernard," said the old Colonel as they entered the room,
+"take a seat, and let's have a social chat. We old planters don't get a
+chance often to hear the news from Jamestown, and I am afraid you will
+find me an inquisitive companion. But first join me in a pipe. There is
+no greater stimulant to conversation than the smoke of our Virginia
+weed."
+
+"You must excuse me," said Bernard, smiling, "I have not yet learned to
+smoke, although, if I remain in Virginia, I suppose I will have to
+contract a habit so general here."
+
+"What, not smoke!" said the old man, in surprise. "Why tobacco is at
+once the calmer of sorrows, the assuager of excitement; the companion of
+solitude, the life of company; the quickener of fancy, the composer of
+thought."
+
+"I had expected," returned Bernard, laughing at his host's enthusiasm,
+"that so rigid a loyalist as yourself, would be a convert to King
+James's Counterblast. Have you never read that work of the royal
+pedant?"
+
+"Read it!" cried the Colonel, impetuously. "No! and what's more, with
+all my loyalty and respect for his memory, I would sooner light my pipe
+with a page of his Basilicon, than subscribe to the sentiments of his
+Counterblast."
+
+"Oh, he had his supporters too," replied Bernard, smiling. "You surely
+cannot have forgotten the song of Cucullus in the Lover's Melancholy;"
+and the young man repeated, with mock solemnity, the lines,
+
+    "They that will learn to drink a health in hell,
+    Must learn on earth to take tobacco well,
+    For in hell they drink no wine, nor ale, nor beer,
+    But fire and smoke and stench, as we do here."
+
+"Well put, my young friend," said Temple, laughing in his turn. "But you
+should remember that John Ford had to put such a sentiment in the mouth
+of a Bedlamite. Here, Sandy," he added, kicking a little negro boy, who
+was nodding in the corner, dreaming, perhaps, of the pleasures of the
+next 'possum hunt, "Run to the kitchen, Sandy, and bring me a coal of
+fire."
+
+"And, now, Mr. Bernard, what is the news political and social in the big
+world of Jamestown?"
+
+"Much to interest you in both respects. It is indeed a part of my duty
+in this visit, to request that you and the ladies will be present at a
+grand masque ball to be given on Lady Frances's birth-night."
+
+"A masque in Virginia!" exclaimed the Colonel, "that will be a novelty
+indeed! But the Governor has not the opportunity or the means at hand to
+prepare it."
+
+"Oh, yes!" replied Bernard, "we have all determined to do our best. The
+assembly will be in session, and the good burgesses will aid us, and at
+any rate if we cannot eclipse old England, we must try to make up in
+pleasure, what is wanting in brilliancy. I trust Miss Temple will aid us
+by her presence, which in itself will add both pleasure and brilliancy
+to the occasion."
+
+Virginia blushed slightly at the compliment, and replied--
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Bernard, the presence which you seem to esteem so highly
+depends entirely on my father's permission--but I will unite with you in
+urging that as it is a novelty to me, he will not deny his assent. I
+should like of all things to go."
+
+"Well, my daughter, as you please--but what says mother to the plan? You
+know she is not queen consort only, and she must be consulted."
+
+"I am sure, Colonel Temple," said the good lady, "that I do as much to
+please Virginia as you can. To be sure, a masque in Virginia can afford
+but little pleasure to me, who have seen them in all their glory in
+England, but I have no doubt it will be all well enough for the young
+people, and I am always ready to contribute to their amusement."
+
+"I know that, my dear, and Jeanie can testify to it as well as I. But,
+Mr. Bernard, what is to be the subject of this masque, and who is the
+author, or are we to have a rehash of rare Ben Jonson's Golden Age?"
+
+"It is to be a kind of parody of that, or rather a burlesque;" replied
+Bernard, "and is designed to hail the advent of the Restoration, a theme
+worthy of the genius of a Shakspeare, though, unfortunately, it is now
+in far humbler hands."
+
+"A noble subject, truly," said the Colonel, "and from your deprecating
+air, I have no doubt that we are to be indebted to your pen for its
+production."
+
+"Partly, sir," returned Bernard, with an assumption of modesty. "It is
+the joint work of Mr. Hutchinson, the chaplain of his excellency, and
+myself."
+
+"Oh! Mr. Bernard, are you a poet," cried the old lady in admiration;
+"this is really an honour. Mr. Temple used to write verses when we were
+young, and although they were never printed, they were far prettier than
+a great deal of the lovesick nonsense that they make such a fuss about.
+I was always begging him to publish, but he never would push himself
+forward, like others with not half his merit."
+
+"I do not pretend to any merit, my dear madam," said Bernard, "but I
+trust that with my rigid loyalty, and parson Hutchinson's rigid
+episcopacy, the roundhead puritans will not meet with more favour than
+they deserve. Neither of us have been long enough in the colony to have
+learned from observation the taste of the Virginians, but there is
+abundant evidence on record that they were the last to desert the cause
+of loyalty, and to submit to the sway of the puritan Protector."
+
+"Right, my friend, and she ever will be, or else old Henry Temple will
+seek out some desolate abode untainted with treason wherein to drag out
+the remainder of his days."
+
+"Your loyalty was never more needed," said Bernard; "for Virginia, I
+fear, will yet be the scene of a rebellion, which may be but the brief
+epitome of the revolution."
+
+"Aye, you refer to this Baconian movement. I had heard that the
+demagogue was again in arms. But surely you cannot apprehend any danger
+from such a source."
+
+"Well, I trust not; and yet the harmless worm, if left to grow, may
+acquire fangs. Bacon is eloquent and popular, and has already under his
+standard some of the very flower of the colony. He must be crushed and
+crushed at once; and yet I fear the worst from the clemency and delay of
+Sir William Berkeley."
+
+"Tell me; what is his ground of quarrel?" asked Temple.
+
+"Why, simply that having taken up arms against the Indians without
+authority, and enraging them by his injustice and cruelty, the governor
+required him to disband the force he had raised. He peremptorily
+refused, and demanded a commission from the governor as general-in-chief
+of the forces of Virginia to prosecute this unholy war."
+
+"Why unholy?" asked the Colonel. "Rebellious as was his conduct in
+refusing to lay down his arms at the command of the governor, yet I do
+not see that it should be deemed unholy to chastise the insolence of
+these savages."
+
+"I will tell you, then," replied Bernard. "His avowed design was to
+avenge the murder of a poor herdsman by a chief of the Doeg tribe.
+Instead of visiting his vengeance upon the guilty, he turned his whole
+force against the Susquehannahs, a friendly tribe of Indians, and chased
+them like sheep into one of their forts. Five of the Indians relying on
+the boasted chivalry of the whites, came out of the fort unarmed, to
+inquire the cause of this unprovoked attack. They were answered by a
+charge of musketry, and basely murdered in cold blood."
+
+"Monstrous!" cried Temple, with horror. "Such infidelity will incense
+the whole Indian race against us and involve the country in another
+general war."
+
+"Exactly so," returned Bernard, "and such is the governor's opinion; but
+besides this, it is suspected, and with reason too, that this Indian war
+is merely a pretext on the part of Bacon and a few of his followers, to
+cover a deeper and more criminal design. The insolent demagogue prates
+openly about equal rights, freedom, oppression of the mother country,
+and such dangerous themes, and it is shrewdly thought that, in his wild
+dreams of liberty, he is taking Cromwell for his model. He has all of
+the villainy of the old puritan, and a good deal of his genius and
+ability. But I beg pardon, ladies, all this politics cannot be very
+palatable to a lady's taste. We will certainly expect you, Mrs. Temple,
+to be present at the masque; and if Miss Virginia would prefer not to
+play her part in the exhibition, she may still be there to cheer us with
+her smiles. I can speak for the taste of all gallant young Virginians,
+that they will readily pardon her for not concealing so fair a face
+beneath a mask."
+
+"Ah, I can easily see that you are but lately from England," said Mrs.
+Temple, delighted with the gallantry of the young man. "Your speech,
+fair sir, savours far more of the manners of the court than of these
+untutored forests. Alas! it reminds me of my own young days."
+
+"Well, Mr. Bernard," said the Colonel, interrupting his wife in a
+reminiscence, which bid fair to exhaust no brief time, "you will find
+that we have only transplanted old English manners to another soil.
+
+    "'Coelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt.'"
+
+"I am glad to see," said Bernard, casting an admiring glance at
+Virginia, "that this new soil you speak of, Colonel Temple, is so
+favourably adapted to the growth of the fairest flowers."
+
+"Oh, you must be jesting, Mr. Bernard," said the old lady, "for although
+I am always begging Virginia to pay more attention to the garden, there
+are scarcely any flowers there worth speaking of, except a few roses
+that I planted with my own hands, and a bed of violets."
+
+"You mistake me, my dear madam," returned Bernard, still gazing on
+Virginia with an affectation of rapture, "the roses to which I refer
+bloom on fair young cheeks, and the violets shed their sweetness in the
+depths of those blue eyes."
+
+"Oh, you are at your poetry, are you?" said the old lady.
+
+"Not if poetry extends her sway only over the realm of fiction," said
+Bernard, laying his hand upon his heart.
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Bernard," said Virginia, not displeased at flattery, which
+however gross it may appear to modern ears, was common with young
+cavaliers in former days, and relished by the fair damsels, "I have been
+taught that flowers flourish far better in the cultivated parterre, than
+in the wild woods. I doubt not that, like Orlando, you are but playing
+off upon a stranger the sentiments, which, in reality, you reserve for
+some faithful Rosalind whom you have left in England."
+
+"You now surprise me, indeed," returned Bernard, "for do you know that
+among all the ladies that grace English society, there are but few who
+ever heard of Rosalind or her Orlando, and know as little of the forest
+of Ardennes as of your own wild forests in Virginia."
+
+"I have heard," said the Colonel, "that old Will Shakspeare and his
+cotemporaries--peers he has none--have been thrown aside for more modern
+writers, and I fear that England has gained nothing by the exchange. Who
+is now your prince of song?"
+
+"There is a newly risen wit and poet, John Dryden by name, who seems to
+bear the palm undisputed. Waller is old now, and though he still writes,
+yet he has lost much of his popularity by his former defection from the
+cause of loyalty."
+
+"Well, for my part, give me old wine, old friends and old poets," said
+the Colonel. "I confess I like a bard to be consecrated by the united
+plaudits of two or three generations, before I can give him my ready
+admiration."
+
+"I should think your acquaintance with Horace would have taught you the
+fallacy of that taste," said Bernard. "Do you not remember how the old
+Roman laureate complains of the same prejudice existing in his own day,
+and argues that on such a principle merit could be accorded to no poet,
+for all must have their admirers among cotemporaries, else their works
+would pass into oblivion, before their worth were fairly tested?"
+
+"I cannot be far wrong in the present age at least," said Temple, "from
+what I learn and from what I have myself seen, the literature of the
+present reign is disgraced by the most gross and libertine sentiments.
+As the water of a healthful stream if dammed up, stagnates and becomes
+the fruitful source of unwholesome malaria, and then, when released,
+rushes forward, spreading disease and death in its course, so the
+liberal feelings and manners of old England, restrained by the rigid
+puritanism of the Protectorate, at last burst forth in a torrent of
+disgusting and diseased libertinism."
+
+Bernard had not an opportunity of replying to this elaborate simile of
+the good old Colonel, which, like Fadladeen, he had often used and still
+reserved for great occasions. Further conversation was here interrupted
+by a new arrival, which in this case, much to the satisfaction of the
+fair Virginia, proved to be the genuine Hansford.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+                        "Speak of Mortimer!
+    Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul
+    Want mercy, if I do not join with him."
+                                          _Henry IV._
+
+
+Thomas Hansford, in appearance and demeanour, lost nothing in comparison
+with the accomplished Bernard. He certainly did not possess in so high a
+degree the easy assurance which characterized the young courtier, but
+his self-confidence, blended with a becoming modesty, and his open,
+ingenuous manners, fully compensated for the difference. There was that
+in his clear blue eye and pleasant smile which inspired confidence in
+all whom he approached. Modest and unobtrusive in his expressions of
+opinion, he was nevertheless firm in their maintenance when announced,
+and though deferential to superiors in age and position, and respectful
+to all, he was never servile or obsequious.
+
+The same kind of difference might be traced in the dress of the two
+young men, as in their manners. With none of the ostentatious display,
+which we have described as belonging to the costume of Bernard, the
+attire of Hansford was plain and neat. He was dressed in a grey doublet
+and breeches, trussed with black silk points. His long hose were of
+cotton, and his shoes were fastened, not with the gay colored ribbons
+before described, but with stout leather thongs, such as are still often
+used in the dress of a country gentleman. His beaver was looped with a
+plain black button, in front, displaying his fair hair, which was
+brushed plainly back from his forehead. He, too, wore a sword by his
+side, but it was fastened, not by handsome fringe and sash, but by a
+plain belt around his waist. It seemed as though it were worn more for
+use than ornament. We have been thus particular in describing the dress
+of these two young men, because, as we have hinted, the contrast
+indicated the difference in their characters--a difference which will,
+however, more strikingly appear in the subsequent pages of this
+narrative.
+
+"Well, my boy," said old Temple, heartily, "I am glad to see you; you
+have been a stranger among us lately, but are none the less welcome on
+that account. Yet, faith, lad, there was no necessity for whetting our
+appetite for your company by such a long absence."
+
+"I have been detained on some business of importance," replied Hansford,
+with some constraint in his manner. "I am glad, however, my dear sir,
+that I have not forfeited my welcome by my delay, for no one, I assure
+you, has had more cause to regret my absence than myself."
+
+"Better late than never, my boy," said the Colonel. "Come, here is a new
+acquaintance of ours, to whom I wish to introduce you. Mr. Alfred
+Bernard, Mr. Hansford."
+
+The young men saluted each other respectfully, and Hansford passed on to
+"metal more attractive." Seated once more by the side of his faithful
+Virginia, he forgot the presence of all else, and the two lovers were
+soon deep in conversation, in a low voice.
+
+"I hope your absence was not caused by your mother's increased
+sickness," said Virginia.
+
+"No, dearest, the old lady's health is far better than it has been for
+some time. But I have many things to tell you which will surprise, if
+they do not please you."
+
+"Oh, you have no idea what a fright father gave me this evening," said
+Virginia. "He told me that you had probably been engaged by the governor
+to aid in suppressing this rebellion. I fancied that there were already
+twenty bullets through your body, and made a little fool of myself
+generally. But if I had known that you were staying away from me so long
+without any good reason, I would not have been so silly, I assure you."
+
+"Your care for me, dear girl, is very grateful to my feelings, and
+indeed it makes me very sad to think that I may yet be the cause of so
+much unhappiness to you."
+
+"Oh, come now," said the laughing girl, "don't be sentimental. You men
+think very little of ladies, if you suppose that we are incapable of
+listening to anything but flattery. Now, there's Mr. Bernard has been
+calling me flowers, and roses, and violets, ever since he came. For my
+part, I would rather be loved as a woman, than admired as all the
+flowers that grow in the world."
+
+"Who is this Mr. Bernard?" asked Hansford.
+
+"He is the Governor's private secretary, and a very nice fellow he seems
+to be, too. He has more poetry at his finger's ends than you or I ever
+read, and he is very handsome, don't you think so?"
+
+"It is very well that I did not prolong my absence another day," said
+Hansford, "or else I might have found my place in your heart supplied by
+this foppish young fribble."[6]
+
+"Nay, now, if you are going to be jealous, I will get angry," said
+Virginia, trying to pout her pretty lips. "But say what you will about
+him, he is very smart, and what's more, he writes poetry as well as
+quotes it."
+
+"And has he told you of all his accomplishments so soon?" said Hansford,
+smiling; "for I hardly suppose you have seen a volume of his works,
+unless he brought it here with him. What else can he do? Perhaps he
+plays the flute, and dances divinely; and may-be, but for 'the vile
+guns, he might have been a soldier.' He looks a good deal like Hotspur's
+dandy to my eyes."
+
+"Oh, don't be so ill-natured," said Virginia, "He never would have told
+about his writing poetry, but father guessed it."
+
+"Your father must have infinite penetration then," said Hansford, "for I
+really do not think the young gentleman looks much as though he could
+tear himself from the mirror long enough to use his pen."
+
+"Well, but he has written a masque, to be performed day-after-to-morrow
+night, at the palace, to celebrate Lady Frances' birth-day. Are you not
+going to the ball. Of course you'll be invited."
+
+"No, dearest," said Hansford, with a sigh. "Sir William Berkeley might
+give me a more unwelcome welcome than to a masque."
+
+"What on earth do you mean?" said Virginia, turning pale with alarm.
+"You have not--"
+
+"Nay, you shall know all to-morrow," replied Hansford.
+
+"Tom," cried Colonel Temple, in his loud, merry voice, "stop cooing
+there, and tell me where you have been all this time. I'll swear, boy, I
+thought you had been helping Berkeley to put down that d--d renegade,
+Bacon."
+
+"I am surprised," said Hansford, with a forced, but uneasy smile, "that
+you should suppose the Governor had entrusted an affair of such moment
+to me."
+
+"Zounds, lad," said the Colonel, "I never dreamed that you were at the
+head of the expedition. Oh, the vanity of youth! No, I suppose my good
+friends, Colonel Ludwell and Major Beverley, are entrusted with the
+lead. But I thought a subordinate office--"
+
+"You are mistaken altogether, Colonel," said Hansford. "The business
+which detained me from Windsor Hall had nothing to do with the
+suppression of this rebellion, and indeed I have not been in Jamestown
+for some weeks."
+
+"Well, keep your own counsel then, Tom; but I trust it was at least
+business connected with your profession. I like to see a young lawyer
+give his undivided attention to business. But I doubt me, Tom, that you
+cheat the law out of some of the six hours that Lord Coke has allotted
+to her."
+
+"I have, indeed, been attending to the preparation of a cause of some
+importance," said Hansford.
+
+"Well, I'm glad of it, my boy. Who is your client? I hope he gives you a
+good retainer."
+
+"My fee is chiefly contingent," replied the young lawyer, sorely pressed
+by the questions of the curious old Colonel.
+
+"Why, you are very laconic," returned Temple, trying to enlist him in
+conversation. "Come, tell me all about it. I used to be something of a
+lawyer myself in my youth, didn't I, Bessy?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," said his wife, who was nearly dozing over her eternal
+knitting; "and if you had stuck to your profession, and not mingled in
+politics, my dear, we would have been much better off. You know I always
+told you so."
+
+"I believe you did, Bessy," said the Colonel. "But what's done can't be
+undone. Take example by me, Tom, d'ye hear, and never meddle in
+politics, my boy. But I believe I retain some cobwebs of law in my brain
+yet, and I might help you in your case. Who is your client?"
+
+"The Colony is one of the parties to the cause," replied Hansford; "but
+the details cannot interest the ladies, you know; I will confer with you
+some other time on the subject, and will be very happy to have your
+advice."
+
+All this time, Alfred Bernard had been silently watching the countenance
+of Hansford, and the latter had been unpleasantly conscious of the fact.
+As he made the last remark, he saw the keen eyes of Bernard resting upon
+him with such an expression of suspicion, that he could not avoid
+wincing. Bernard had no idea of losing the advantage which he thus
+possessed, and with wily caution he prepared a snare for his victim,
+more sure of success than an immediate attack would have been.
+
+"I think I have heard something of the case," he said, fixing a
+penetrating glance on Hansford as he spoke, "and I agree with Mr.
+Hansford, that its details here would not be very interesting to the
+ladies. By the way, Colonel, your conjecture, that Mr. Hansford was
+employed in the suppression of the rebellion, reminds me of a
+circumstance that I had almost forgotten to mention. You have heard of
+that fellow Bacon's perjury--"
+
+"Perjury!" exclaimed the Colonel. "No! on the contrary I had been given
+to understand that, with all his faults, his personal honour was so far
+unstained, even with suspicion."
+
+"Such was the general impression," returned Bernard, "but it is now
+proven that he is as capable of the greatest perfidy as of the most
+daring treason."
+
+"You probably refer, sir, to an affair," said Hansford, "of which I have
+some knowledge, and on which I may throw some light which will be more
+favorable to Mr. Bacon."
+
+"Your being able to conjecture so easily the fact to which I allude,"
+said Bernard, "is in itself an evidence that the general impression of
+his conduct is not so erroneous. I am happy," he added, with a sneer,
+"that in this free country, a rebel even can meet with so disinterested
+a defender."
+
+"If you refer, Mr. Bernard," replied Hansford, disregarding the manner
+of Bernard, "to the alleged infraction of his parole, I can certainly
+explain it. I know that Colonel Temple does not, and I hope that you do
+not, wish deliberately to do any man an injustice, even if he be a foe
+or a rebel."
+
+"That's true, my boy," said the generous old Temple. "Give the devil his
+due, even he is not as black as he is painted. That's my maxim. How was
+it, Tom? And begin at the beginning, that's the only way to straighten a
+tangled skein."
+
+"Then, as I understand the story," said Hansford, in a slow, distinct,
+voice, "it is this:--After Mr. Bacon returned to Henrico from his
+expedition against the Indians, he was elected to the House of
+Burgesses. On attempting to go down the river to Jamestown, to take his
+seat, he was arrested by Captain Gardiner, on a charge of treason, and
+brought as a prisoner before Sir William Berkeley. The Governor,
+expressing himself satisfied with his disclaimer and open recantation of
+any treasonable design, released him from imprisonment on parole, and,
+as is reported, promised at the same time to grant him the commission he
+desired. Mr. Bacon, hearing of the sickness of his wife, returned to
+Henrico, and while there, secret warrants were issued to arrest him
+again. Upon a knowledge of this fact he refused to surrender himself
+under his parole."
+
+"You have made a very clear case of it, if the facts be true," said
+Bernard, in a taunting tone, "and seem to be well acquainted with the
+motives and movements of the traitor. I have no doubt there are many
+among his deluded followers who fail to appreciate the full force of a
+parole d'honneur."
+
+"Sir!" said Hansford, his face flushing with indignation.
+
+"I only remarked," said Bernard, in reply, "that a traitor to his
+country knows but little of the laws which govern honourable men. My
+remark only applied to traitors, and such I conceive the followers and
+supporters of Nathaniel Bacon to be."
+
+Hansford only replied with a bow.
+
+"And so does Tom," said Temple, "and so do we all, Mr. Bernard. But
+Hansford knew Bacon before this late movement of his, and he is very
+loth to hear his old friend charged with anything that he does not
+deserve. But see, my wife there is nodding over her knitting, and
+Jeanie's pretty blue eyes, I know, begin to itch. Our motto is, Mr.
+Bernard, to go to bed with the chickens and rise with the lark. But we
+have failed in the first to-night, and I reckon we will sleep a little
+later than lady lark to-morrow. So, to bed, to bed, my lord."
+
+So saying, the hospitable old gentleman called a servant to show the
+gentlemen to their separate apartments.
+
+"You will be able to sleep in an old planter's cabin, Mr. Bernard," he
+said, "where you will find all clean and comfortable, although perhaps a
+little rougher than you are accustomed to. Tom, boy, you know the ways
+of the house, and I needn't apologize to you. And so pleasant dreams and
+a good night to you both."
+
+After the Colonel had gone, and before the servant had appeared,
+Hansford touched Bernard lightly on the shoulder. The latter turned
+around with some surprise.
+
+"You must be aware, Mr. Bernard," said Hansford, "that your language
+to-night remained unresented only because of my respect for the company
+in which we were."
+
+"I did not deem it of sufficient importance," replied Bernard, assuming
+an indifferent tone, "to inquire whether your motives for silence were
+respect for the family or regard for yourself."
+
+"You now at least know, sir. Let me ask you whether you made the remark
+to which I refer with a full knowledge of who I was, and what were my
+relations towards Mr. Bacon."
+
+"I decline making any explanation of language which, both in manner and
+expression, was sufficiently intelligible."
+
+"Then, sir," said Hansford, resolutely, "there is but one reparation
+that you can make," and he laid his hand significantly on his sword.
+
+"I understand you," returned Bernard, "but do not hold myself
+responsible to a man whose position in society may be more worthy of my
+contempt than of my resentment."
+
+"The company in which you found me, and the gentleman who introduced us,
+are sufficient guarantees of my position. If under these circumstances
+you refuse, you take advantage of a subterfuge alike unworthy of a
+gentleman or a brave man."
+
+"Even this could scarcely avail you, since the family are not aware of
+the treason by which you have forfeited any claim to their protection.
+But I waive any such objection, sir, and accept your challenge."
+
+"Being better acquainted with the place than yourself," said Hansford,
+"I would suggest, sir, that there is a little grove in rear of the
+barn-yard, which is a fit spot for our purpose. There will there be no
+danger of interruption."
+
+"As you please, sir," replied Bernard. "To-morrow morning, then, at
+sunrise, with swords, and in the grove you speak of."
+
+The servant entered the room at this moment, and the two young men
+parted for the night, having thus settled in a few moments the
+preliminaries of a mortal combat, with as much coolness as if it had
+been an agreement for a fox-hunt.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[6] A coxcomb, a popinjay.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+    "'We try this quarrel hilt to hilt.'
+    Then each at once his falchion drew,
+    Each on the ground his scabbard threw,
+    Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain,
+    As what they ne'er might see again;
+    Then foot, and point, and eye opposed,
+    In dubious strife they darkly closed."
+                                    _Lady of the Lake._
+
+
+It is a happy thing for human nature that the cares, and vexations, and
+fears, of this weary life, are at least excluded from the magic world of
+sleep. Exhausted nature will seek a respite from her trials in
+forgetfulness, and steeped in the sacred stream of Lethe, like the young
+Achilles, she becomes invulnerable. It is but seldom that care dares
+intrude upon this quiet realm, and though it may be truly said that
+sleep "swift on her downy pinions flies from woe," yet, when at last it
+does alight on the lid sullied by a tear, it rests as quietly as
+elsewhere. We have scarcely ever read of an instance where the last
+night of a convict was not passed in tranquil slumber, as though Sleep,
+the sweet sister of the dread Terror, soothed more tenderly, in this
+last hour, the victim of her gloomy brother's dart.
+
+Thomas Hansford, for with him our story remains, slept as calmly on this
+night as though a long life of happiness and fame stretched out before
+his eyes. 'Tis true, that ere he went to bed, as he unbelted his trusty
+sword, he looked at its well-tempered steel with a confident eye, and
+thought of the morrow. But so fully imbued were the youth of that iron
+age with the true spirit of chivalry, that life was but little regarded
+where honour was concerned, and the precarious tenure by which life was
+held, made it less prized by those who felt that they might be called on
+any day to surrender it. Hansford, therefore, slept soundly, and the
+first red streaks of the morning twilight were smiling through his
+window when he awoke. He rose, and dressing himself hastily, he repaired
+to the study, where he wrote a few hasty lines to his mother and to
+Virginia--the first to assure her of his filial love, and to pray her
+forgiveness for thus sacrificing life for honour; and the second
+breathing the warm ardour of his heart for her who, during his brief
+career, had lightened the cares and shared the joys which fortune had
+strewn in his path. As he folded these two letters and placed them in
+his pocket, he could not help drawing a deep sigh, to think of these two
+beings whose fate was so intimately entwined with his own, and whose
+thread of life would be weakened when his had been severed. Repelling
+such a thought as unworthy a brave man engaged in an honourable cause,
+he buckled on his sword and repaired with a firm step to the place of
+meeting. Alfred Bernard, true to his word, was there.
+
+And now the sun was just rising above the green forest, to the eastward.
+The hands, as by a striking metonymy those happy laborers were termed,
+who never knew the cares which environ the head, were just going out to
+their day's work. Men, women and children, some to plough the corn, and
+one a merry teamster, who, with his well attended team, was driving to
+the woods for fuel. And in the barn-yard were the sleek milch cows,
+smelling fresh with the dewy clover from the meadow, and their hides
+smoking with the early dew of morning; and the fowls, that strutted and
+clucked, and cackled, in the yard, all breakfasting on the scanty grains
+that had fallen from the horse-troughs--all save one inquisitive old
+rooster, who, flapping his wings and mounting the fence to crow, eyed
+askant the two young men, as though, a knight himself, he guessed their
+bloody intent. And the birds, too, those joyous, happy beings, who pass
+their life in singing, shook the fresh dew from their pretty wings,
+cleared their throats in the bracing air, and like the pious Persian,
+pouring forth their hymn of praise to the morning sun, fluttered away to
+search for their daily food. All was instinct with happiness and beauty.
+All were seeking to preserve the life which God had given but two, and
+they stood there, in the bright, dewy morning, to stain the fair robe of
+nature with blood. It is a sad thought, that of all the beings who
+rejoice in life, he alone, who bears the image of his Maker, should have
+wandered from His law.
+
+The men saluted one another coldly as Hansford approached, and Bernard
+said, with a firm voice, "You see, sir, I have kept my appointment. I
+believe nothing remains but to proceed."
+
+"You must excuse me for again suggesting," said Hansford, "that we wait
+a few moments, until these labourers are out of sight. We might be
+interrupted."
+
+Bernard silently acquiesced, and the combatants stood at a short
+distance apart, each rapt in his own reflections. What those reflections
+were may be easily imagined. Both were young men of talent and promise.
+The one, the favourite of Sir William Berkeley, saw fame and distinction
+awaiting him in the colony. The other, the beloved of the people, second
+only to Bacon in their affections, and by that great leader esteemed as
+a friend and entrusted as a confidant, had scarce less hope in the
+future. The one a stranger, almost unknown in the colony, with little to
+care for in the world but self; the other the support of an aged mother,
+and the pride of a fair and trusting girl--the strong rock, on whose
+protection the grey lichen of age had rested, and around which the green
+tendrils of love entwined. Both men of erring hearts, who in a few
+moments might be summoned to appear at that dread bar, where all the
+secrets of their hearts are known, and all the actions of their lives
+are judged. The two combatants were nearly equally matched in the use
+of the sword. Bernard's superior skill in fence being fully compensated
+by the superior coolness of his adversary.
+
+Just as the last labourer had disappeared, both swords flashed in the
+morning sun. The combat was long, and the issue doubtful. Each seemed so
+conscious of the skill of the other, that both acted chiefly on the
+defensive. But the protracted length of the fight turned to the
+advantage of Hansford, who, from his early training and hardy exercise,
+was more accustomed to endure fatigue. Bernard became weary of a contest
+of such little interest, and at last, forgetting the science in which he
+was a complete adept, he made a desperate lunge at the breast of the
+young colonist. This thrust Hansford parried with such success, that he
+sent the sword of his adversary flying through the air. In attempting to
+regain possession of his sword, Bernard's foot slipped, and he fell
+prostrate to the ground.
+
+"Now yield you," cried the victor, as he stood above the prostrate form
+of his antagonist, "and take back the foul stain which you have placed
+upon my name, or, by my troth, you had else better commend yourself to
+Heaven."
+
+"I cannot choose but yield," said Bernard, rising slowly from the
+ground, while his face was purple with rage and mortification. "But look
+ye, sir rebel, if but I had that good sword once more in my hand, I
+would prove that I can yet maintain my honour and my life against a
+traitor's arm. I take my life at your hands, but God do so to me, and
+more also, if the day do not come when you will wish that you had taken
+it while it was in your power. The life you give me shall be devoted to
+the one purpose of revenge."
+
+"As you please," said Hansford, eyeing him with an expression of bitter
+contempt. "Meantime, as you value your life, dedicated to so unworthy an
+object, let me hear no more of your insolence."
+
+"Nay, by my soul," cried Bernard, "I will not bear your taunts. Draw and
+defend yourself!" At the same time, with an active spring, he regained
+possession of his lost sword. But just as they were about to renew the
+attack, there appeared upon the scene of action a personage so strange
+in appearance, and so wild in dress, that Bernard dropped his weapon in
+surprise, and with a vacant stare gazed upon the singular apparition.
+
+The figure was that of a young girl, scarce twenty years of age, whose
+dark copper complexion, piercing black eyes, and high cheek bones, all
+proclaimed her to belong to that unhappy race which had so long held
+undisputed possession of this continent. Her dress was fantastic in the
+highest degree. Around her head was a plait of peake, made from those
+shells which were used by the Indians at once as their roanoke, or
+money, and as their most highly prized ornament of dress. A necklace and
+bracelets of the same adorned her neck and arms. A short smock, made of
+dressed deer-skin, which reached only to her knees, and was tightly
+fitted around the waist with a belt of wampum, but scantily concealed
+the swelling of her lovely bosom. Her legs, from the knee to the ancle,
+were bare, and her feet were covered with buckskin sandals, ornamented
+with beads, such as are yet seen in our western country, as the
+handiwork of the remnant of this unhappy race. Such a picturesque
+costume well became the graceful form that wore it. Her long, dark hair,
+which, amid all these decorations, was her loveliest ornament, fell
+unbound over her shoulders in rich profusion. As she approached, with
+light and elastic step, towards the combatants, Bernard, as we have
+said, dropped his sword in mute astonishment. It is true, that even in
+his short residence in Virginia, he had seen Indians at Jamestown, but
+they had come with friendly purpose to ask favors of the English. His
+impressions were therefore somewhat similar to those of a man who,
+having admired the glossy coat, and graceful, athletic form of a tiger
+in a menagerie, first sees that fierce animal bounding towards him from
+his Indian jungle. The effect upon him, however, was of course but
+momentary, and he again raised his sword to renew the attack. But his
+opponent, without any desire of engaging again in the contest, turned to
+the young girl and said, in a familiar voice, "Well, Mamalis, what
+brings you to the hall so early this morning?"
+
+"There is danger there," replied the young girl, solemnly, and in purer
+English than Bernard was prepared to hear. "If you would help me, put up
+your long knife and follow me."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Hansford, alarmed by her manner and words.
+
+"Manteo and his braves come to take blood for blood," returned the girl.
+"There is no time to lose."
+
+"In God's name, Mr. Bernard," said Hansford, quickly, "come along with
+us. This is no time for private quarrel. Our swords are destined for
+another use."
+
+"Most willingly," replied Bernard; "our enmity will scarcely cool by
+delay. And mark me, young man, Alfred Bernard will never rest until he
+avenges the triumph of your sword this morning, or the foul blot which
+you have placed upon his name. But let that pass now. Can this
+creature's statement be relied on?"
+
+"She is as true as Heaven," whispered Hansford. "Come on, for we have
+indeed but little time to lose; at another time I will afford you ample
+opportunity to redeem your honour or to avenge yourself. You will not
+find my blood cooler by delay." And so the three walked on rapidly
+towards the house, the two young men side by side, after having sworn
+eternal hostility to one another, but yet willing to forget their
+private feud in the more important duties before them.
+
+The reader of the history of this interesting period, will remember
+that there were, at this time, many causes of discontent prevailing
+among the Indians of Virginia. As has been before remarked, the murder
+of a herdsman, Robert Hen by name, and other incidents of a similar
+character, were so terribly avenged by the incensed colonists, not only
+upon the guilty, but upon friendly tribes, that the discontent of the
+Indians was wide spread and nearly universal. Nor did it cease until the
+final suppression of the Indian power by Nathaniel Bacon, at the battle
+of Bloody Run. This, however, was but the immediate cause of
+hostilities, for which there had already been, in the opinion of the
+Indians, sufficient provocation. Many obnoxious laws had been passed by
+the Assembly, in regard to the savages, that were so galling to their
+independence, that the seeds of discord and enmity were already widely
+sown. Among these were the laws prohibiting the trade in guns and
+ammunition with the Indians; requiring the warriors of the peaceful
+tribes to wear badges in order that they might be recognized;
+restricting them in their trade to particular marts; and, above all,
+providing that the _Werowance_, or chief of a tribe, should hold his
+position by the appointment of the Governor, and not by the choice of
+his braves. This last provision, which struck at the very independence
+of the tribes, was so offensive, that peaceable relations with the
+Indians could not long be maintained. Add to this the fact, which for
+its inhumanity is scarcely credible, that the English at Monados, now
+the island of New York, had, with a view of controlling the monopoly of
+the trade in furs and skins, inspired the Indians with a bitter
+hostility toward the Virginians, and it will easily be seen that the
+magazine of discontent needed but a spark to explode in open hostility.
+
+So much is necessary to be premised in order that the reader may
+understand the relations which existed, at this period, between the
+colonists and the Indians around them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+    "And in, the buskined hunters of the deer,
+    To Albert's home with shout and cymbal throng."
+                                            _Campbell._
+
+
+The surprise and horror with which the intelligence of this impending
+attack was received by the family at Windsor Hall may be better imagined
+than described. Manteo, the leader of the party, a young Indian of the
+Pamunkey tribe, was well known to them all. With his sister, the young
+girl whom we have described, he lived quietly in his little wigwam, a
+few miles from the hall, and in his intercourse with the family had been
+friendly and even affectionate. But with all this, he was still ardently
+devoted to his race, and thirsting for fame; and stung by what he
+conceived the injustice of the whites, he had leagued himself in an
+enterprise, which, regardless of favour or friendship, was dictated by
+revenge.
+
+It was, alas! too late to hope for escape from the hall, or to send to
+the neighboring plantations for assistance; and, to add to their
+perplexity, the whole force of the farm, white servants and black, had
+gone to a distant field, where it was scarcely possible that they could
+hear of the attack until it was too late to contribute their aid in the
+defence. But with courage and resolution the gentlemen prepared to make
+such defence or resistance as was in their power, and, indeed, from the
+unsettled character of the times, a planter's house was no mean
+fortification against the attacks of the Indians. Early in the history
+of the colony, it was found necessary, for the general safety, to enact
+laws requiring each planter to provide suitable means of defence, in
+case of any sudden assault by the hostile tribes. Accordingly, the doors
+to these country mansions were made of the strongest material, and in
+some cases, and such was the case at Windsor Hall, were lined on the
+interior by a thick sheet of iron. The windows, too, or such as were low
+enough to be scaled from the ground, were protected by shutters of
+similar material. Every planter had several guns, and a sufficient store
+of ammunition for defence. Thus it will be seen that Windsor Hall,
+protected by three vigorous men, well armed and stout of heart, was no
+contemptible fortress against the rude attacks of a few savages, whose
+number in all probability would not exceed twenty. The greatest
+apprehension was from fire; but, strange to say, the savages but seldom
+resorted to this mode of vengeance, except when wrought up to the
+highest state of excitement.[7]
+
+"At any rate," said the brave old Colonel, "we will remain where we are
+until threatened with fire, and then at least avenge our lives with the
+blood of these infamous wretches."
+
+The doors and lower windows had been barricaded, and the three men,
+armed to the teeth, stood ready in the hall for the impending attack.
+Virginia and her mother were there, the former pale as ashes, but
+suppressing her emotions with a violent effort in order to contribute to
+her mother's comfort. In fact, the old lady, notwithstanding her boast
+of bravery on the evening before, stood in need of all the consolation
+that her daughter could impart. She vented her feelings in screams as
+loud as those of the Indians she feared, and refused to be comforted.
+Virginia, forgetful of her own equal danger, leant tenderly over her
+mother, who had thrown herself upon a sofa, and whispered those sweet
+words of consolation, which religion can alone suggest in the hour of
+our trial:
+
+"Mother, dear mother," she said, "remember that although earthly
+strength should fail, we are yet in the hands of One who is mighty."
+
+"Well, and what if we are," cried her mother, whose faith was like that
+of the old lady, who, when the horses ran away with her carriage,
+trusted in Providence till the breeching broke. "Well, and what if we
+are, if in a few minutes our scalps may be taken by these horrible
+savages?"
+
+"But, dear mother, He has promised--"
+
+"Oh, I don't know whether he has or not--but as sure as fate there they
+come," and the old lady relapsed into her hysterics.
+
+"Mother, mother, remember your duty as a Christian--remember in whom you
+have put your trust," said Virginia, earnestly.
+
+"Oh, yes, that's the way. Of course I know nothing of my duty, and I
+don't pretend to be as good as others. I am nothing but a poor, weak old
+woman, and must be reminded of my duty by my daughter, although I was a
+Christian long before she was born. But, for my part, I think it's
+tempting Providence to bear such a judgment with so much indifference."
+
+"But, Bessy," interposed the Colonel, seeing Virginia was silent under
+this unusual kind of argument, "your agitation will only make the matter
+worse. If you give way thus, we cannot be as ready and cool in action as
+we should. Come now, dear Bessy, calm yourself."
+
+"Oh, yes, it's well to say that, after bringing me all the way into this
+wild country, to be devoured by these wild Indians. Oh, that I should
+ever have consented to leave my quiet home in dear old England for this!
+And all because a protector reigned instead of a king. Protector,
+forsooth; I would rather have a hundred protectors at this moment than
+one king."
+
+"Father," said Virginia, in a tremulous voice, "had we not better retire
+to some other part of the house? We can only incommode you here."
+
+"Right, my girl," said her father. "Take your mother up stairs into your
+room, and try and compose her."
+
+"Take me, indeed," said his worthy spouse. "Colonel Temple, you speak as
+if I was a baby, to be carried about as you choose. I assure you, I will
+not budge a foot from you."
+
+"Stay where you are then," replied Temple, impatiently, "and for God's
+sake be calm. Ha! now my boys--here they come!" and a wild yell, which
+seemed to crack the very welkin, announced the appearance of the enemy.
+
+"I think we had all better go to the upper windows," said Hansford,
+calmly. "There is nothing to be done by being shut up in this dark hall;
+while there, protected from their arrows, we may do some damage to the
+enemy. If we remain, our only chance is to make a desperate sally, in
+which we would be almost certainly destroyed."
+
+"Mr. Hansford," said Virginia, "give me a gun--there is one left--and
+you shall see that a young girl, in an hour of peril like this, knows
+how to aid brave men in her own defence."
+
+Hansford bent an admiring glance upon the heroic girl, as he placed the
+weapon in her hands, while her father said, with rapture, "God bless
+you, my daughter. If your arm were strong as your heart is brave, you
+had been a hero. I retract what I said on yesterday," he added in a
+whisper, with a sad smile, "for you have this day proved yourself worthy
+to be a brave man's wife."
+
+The suggestion of Hansford was readily agreed upon, and the little party
+were soon at their posts, shielded by the windows from the attack of the
+Indians, and yet in a position from which they could annoy the enemy
+considerably by their own fire. From his shelter there, Bernard, to whom
+the sight was entirely new, could see rushing towards the hall, a party
+of about twenty savages, painted in the horrible manner which they adopt
+to inspire terror in a foe, and attired in that strange wild costume,
+which is now familiar to every school-boy. Their leader, a tall,
+athletic young Indian, surpassed them all in the hideousness of his
+appearance. His closely shaven hair was adorned with a tall eagle's
+feather, and pendant from his ears were the rattles of the rattlesnake.
+The only garment which concealed his nakedness was a short smock, or
+apron, reaching from his waist nearly to his knees, and made of dressed
+deer skin, adorned with beads and shells. Around his neck and wrists
+were strings of peake and roanoke. His face was painted in the most
+horrible manner, with a ground of deep red, formed from the dye of the
+pocone root, and variegated with streaks of blue, yellow and green.
+Around his eyes were large circles of green paint. But to make his
+appearance still more hideous, feathers and hair were stuck all over his
+body, upon the fresh paint, which made the warrior look far more like
+some wild beast of the forest than a human being.
+
+Brandishing a tomahawk in one hand, and holding a carbine in the other,
+Manteo, thus disguised, led on his braves with loud yells towards the
+mansion of Colonel Temple. How different from the respectful demeanour,
+and more modest attire, in which he was accustomed to appear before the
+family of Windsor Hall.
+
+To the great comfort of the inmates, his carbine was the only one in the
+party, thanks to the wise precaution of the Assembly, in restricting the
+sale of such deadly weapons to the Indians. His followers, arrayed in
+like horrible costume with himself, followed on with their tomahawks and
+bows; their arrows were secured in a quiver slung over the shoulder,
+which was formed of the skins of foxes and raccoons, rendered more
+terrible by the head of the animal being left unsevered from the skin.
+To the loud shrieks and yells of their voices, was added the unearthly
+sound of their drums and rattles--the whole together forming a
+discordant medley, which, as brave old John Smith has well and quaintly
+observed, "would rather affright than delight any man."
+
+All this the besieged inmates of the hall saw with mingled feelings of
+astonishment and dread, awaiting with intense anxiety the result.
+
+"Now be perfectly quiet," said Hansford, in a low tone, for, by tacit
+consent, he was looked upon as the leader of the defence. "The house
+being closed, they may conclude that the family are absent, and so,
+after their first burst of vengeance, retire. Their bark is always worse
+than their bite."
+
+Such indeed seemed likely to be the case, for the Indians, arrived at
+the porch, looked around with some surprise at the barred doors and
+windows, and began to confer together. Whatever might have been the
+event of their conference, their actions, however, were materially
+affected by an incident which, though intended for the best, was well
+nigh resulting in destruction to the whole family.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[7] This fact, which I find mentioned by several historians, is
+explained by Kercheval, in his history of the Valley of Virginia, by the
+supposition that the Indians for a long time entertained the hope of
+reconquering the country, and saved property from destruction which
+might be of use to them in the future. See page 90 of Valley of Va.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+    "Like gun when aimed at duck or plover,
+    Kicks back and knocks the shooter over."
+
+
+There was at Windsor Hall, an old family servant, known alike to the
+negroes and the "white folks," by the familiar appellation of Uncle
+Giles. He was one of those old-fashioned negroes, who having borne the
+heat and burden of the day, are turned out to live in comparative
+freedom, and supplied with everything that can make their declining
+years comfortable and happy. Uncle Giles, according to his own account,
+was sixty-four last Whitsuntide, and was consequently born in Africa. It
+is a singular fact connected with this race, that whenever consulted
+about their age, they invariably date the anniversary of their birth at
+Christmas, Easter or Whitsuntide, the triennial holydays to which they
+are entitled. Whether this arises from the fact that a life which is
+devoted to the service of others should commence with a holyday, or
+whether these three are the only epochs known to the negro, is a
+question of some interest, but of little importance to our narrative. So
+it was, that old uncle Giles, in his own expressive phrase was, "after
+wiking all his born days, done turn out to graze hisself to def." The
+only business of the old man was to keep himself comfortable in winter
+by the kitchen fire, and in summer to smoke his old corn-cob pipe on the
+three legged bench that stood at the kitchen door. Added to this, was
+the self-assumed duty of "strapping" the young darkies, and lecturing
+the old ones on the importance of working hard, and obeying "old massa,"
+cheerfully in everything. And so old uncle Giles, with white and black,
+with old and young, but especially with old uncle Giles himself, was a
+great character. Among other things that increased his inordinate
+self-esteem, was the possession of a rusty old blunderbuss, which, long
+since discarded as useless by his master, had fallen into his hands, and
+was regarded by him and his sable admirers as a pearl of great price.
+
+Now it so happened, that on the morning to which our story refers, uncle
+Giles was quietly smoking his pipe, and muttering solemnly to himself in
+that grumbling tone so peculiar to old negroes. When he learned,
+however, of the intended attack of the Indians, the old man, who well
+remembered the earlier skirmishes with the savages, took his old
+blunderbuss from its resting-place above the door of the kitchen, and
+prepared himself for action. The old gun, which owing to the growing
+infirmities of its possessor, had not been called into use for years,
+was now rusted from disuse and neglect; and a bold spider had even dared
+to seek, not the bubble reputation, but his more substantial gossamer
+palace, at the very mouth of the barrel. Notwithstanding all this, the
+gun had all the time remained loaded, for Giles was too rigid an
+economist to waste a charge without some good reason. Armed with this
+formidable weapon, Giles succeeded in climbing up the side of the low
+cabin kitchen, by the logs which protruded from either end of the wall.
+Arrived at the top and screening himself behind the rude log and mud
+chimney, he awaited with a patience and immobility which Wellington
+might have envied, the arrival of the foe. Here then he was quietly
+seated when the conference to which we have alluded took place between
+the Indian warriors.
+
+"Bird flown," said Manteo, the leader of the party. "Nest empty."
+
+Two or three of the braves stooped down and began to examine the soft
+sandy soil to discover if there were any tracks or signs of the family
+having left. Fortunately the search seemed satisfactory, for the
+foot-prints of Bernard's and Hansford's horses, as they were led from
+the house towards the stable on the previous evening, were still quite
+visible.
+
+This little circumstance seemed to determine the party, and they had
+turned away, probably to seek their vengeance elsewhere, or to return at
+a more propitious moment, when the discharge of a gun was heard, so
+loud, so crashing, and so alarming, that it seemed like the sudden
+rattling of thunder in a storm.
+
+Luckily, perhaps for all parties, while the shot fell through the poplar
+trees like the first big drops of rain in summer, the only damage which
+was done was in clipping off the feather which was worn by Manteo as a
+badge of his position. When we say this, however, we mean to refer only
+to the effect of the _charge_, not of the _discharge_ of the gun, for
+the breech rebounding violently against old Giles shoulder, the poor
+fellow lost his balance and came tumbling to the ground. The cabin was
+fortunately not more than ten feet high, and our African hero escaped
+into the kitchen with a few bruises--a happy compromise for the fate
+which would have inevitably been his had he remained in his former
+position. The smoke of his fusil mingling with the smoke from the
+chimney, averted suspicion, and with the simple-minded creatures who
+heard the report and witnessed its effects the whole matter remained a
+mystery.
+
+"Tunder," said one, looking round in vain for the source from which an
+attack could be made.
+
+"Call dat tunder," growled Manteo, pointing significantly to his moulted
+plume that lay on the ground.
+
+"Okees[8] mad. Shoot Pawcussacks[9] from osies,"[10] said one of the
+older and more experienced of the party, endeavouring to give some
+rational explanation of so inexplicable a mystery.
+
+A violent dispute here arose between the different warriors as to the
+cause of this sudden anger of the gods; some contending that it was
+because they were attacking a Netoppew or friend, and others with equal
+zeal contending that it was to reprove the slowness of their vengeance.
+
+From their position above, all these proceedings could be seen, and
+these contentions heard by the besieged party. The mixed language in
+which the men spoke, for they had even thus early appropriated many
+English words to supply the deficiencies in their own barren tongue, was
+explained by Mamalis, where it was unintelligible to the whites. This
+young girl felt a divided interest in the fate of the besieging and
+besieged parties; for all of her devotion to Virginia Temple could not
+make her entirely forget the fortunes of her brave brother.
+
+In a few moments, she saw that it was necessary to take some decisive
+step, for the faction which was of harsher mood, and urged immediate
+vengeance, was seen to prevail in the conference. The fatal word "fire"
+was several times heard, and Manteo was already starting towards the
+kitchen to procure the means of carrying into effect their deadly
+purpose.
+
+"I see nothing left, but to defend ourselves as we may," said Hansford
+in a low voice, at the same time raising his musket, and advancing a
+step towards the window, with a view of throwing it open and commencing
+the attack.
+
+"Oh, don't shoot," said Mamalis, imploringly, "I will go and save all."
+
+"Do you think, my poor girl, that they will hearken to mercy at your
+intercession," said Colonel Temple, shaking his head, sorrowfully.
+
+"No!" replied Mamalis, "the heart of a brave knows not mercy. If he gave
+his ear to the cry of mercy, he would be a squaw and not a brave. But
+fear not, I can yet save you," she added confidently, "only do not be
+seen."
+
+The men looked from one to the other to decide.
+
+"Trust her, father," said Virginia, "if you are discovered blood must be
+shed. She says she can save us all. Trust her, Hansford. Trust her, Mr.
+Bernard."
+
+"We could lose little by being betrayed at this stage of the game," said
+Temple, "so go, my good girl, and Heaven will bless you!"
+
+Quick as thought the young Indian left the room, and descended the
+stairs. Drawing the bolt of the back door so softly, that she scarcely
+heard it move, herself, she went to the kitchen, where old Giles, a prey
+to a thousand fears, was seated trembling over the fire, his face of
+that peculiar ashy hue, which the negro complexion sometimes assumes as
+an humble apology for pallor. As she touched the old man on the
+shoulder, he groaned in despair and looked up, showing scarcely anything
+but the whites of his eyes, while his woolly head, thinned and white
+with age, resembled ashes sprinkled over a bed of extinguished charcoal.
+Seeing the face of an Indian, and too terrified to recognize Mamalis, he
+fell on his knees at her feet, and cried,
+
+"Oh, for de Lord sake, massa, pity de poor old nigger! My lod a messy,
+massa, I neber shoot anudder gun in all my born days."
+
+"Hush," said Mamalis, "and listen to me. I tell lie, you say it is
+truth; I say whites in Jamestown; you say so too--went yesterday."
+
+"But bress your soul, missis," said Giles, "sposen dey ax me ef I shot
+dat cussed gun, me say dat truf too?"
+
+"No, say it was thunder."
+
+At this moment the tall dark form of Manteo entered the room. He started
+with surprise, as he saw his sister there, and in such company. His dark
+eye darted a fierce glance at Giles, who quailed beneath its glare.
+Then turning again to his sister, he said in the Indian tongue, which
+we freely translate:
+
+"Mamalis with the white man! where is he that I may drown my vengeance
+in his blood."
+
+"He is gone; he is not within the power of Manteo. Manitou[11] has saved
+Manteo from the crime of killing his best friend."
+
+"His people have killed my people for the offence of the few, I will
+kill him for the cruelty of many. For this is the calumet[12] broken.
+For this is the tree of peace[13] cut down by the tomahawk of war."
+
+"Say not so," replied Mamalis. "Temple is the netoppew[14] of Manteo. He
+is even now gone to the grand sachem of the long knives, to make Manteo
+the Werowance[15] of the Pamunkeys."
+
+"Ha! is this true?" asked Manteo, anxiously.
+
+"Ask this old man," returned Mamalis. "They all went to Jamestown
+yesterday, did they not?" she asked in English of Giles, who replied, in
+a trembling voice,
+
+"Yes, my massa, dey has all gone to Jimson on yestiddy."
+
+"And I a Werowance!" said the young man proudly, in his own language.
+"Spirits of Powhatan and Opechancanough, the name of Manteo shall live
+immortally as yours. His glory shall be the song of our race, and the
+young men of his tribe shall emulate his deeds. His life shall be
+brilliant as the sun's bright course, and his spirit shall set in the
+spirit land, bright with unfading glory."
+
+Then turning away with a lofty step, he proceeded to rejoin his
+companions.
+
+The stratagem was successful, and Manteo, the bravest, the noblest of
+the braves, succeeded after some time in persuading them to desist from
+their destructive designs. In a few moments, to the delight of the
+little besieged party, the Indians had left the house, and were soon
+buried in the deep forest.
+
+"Thanks, my brave, generous girl," said Temple, as Mamalis, after the
+success of her adventure, entered the room. "To your presence of mind we
+owe our lives."
+
+"But I told a lie," said the girl, looking down; "I said you had gone to
+make Manteo the Werowance of the Pamunkeys."
+
+"Well, my girl, he shall not want my aid in getting the office. So you,
+in effect, told the truth."
+
+"No, no; I said you had gone. It was a lie."
+
+"Ah, but, Mamalis," said Virginia, in an encouraging voice, for she had
+often impressed upon the mind of the poor savage girl the nature of a
+lie, "when a falsehood is told for the preservation of life, the sin
+will be freely forgiven which has accomplished so much good."
+
+"Ignatius Loyola could not have stated his favourite principle more
+clearly, Miss Temple," said Bernard, with a satirical smile. "I see that
+the Reformation has not made so wide a difference in the two Churches,
+after all."
+
+"No, Mr. Bernard," said old Temple, somewhat offended at the young man's
+tone; "the stratagem of the soldier, and the intrigue of the treacherous
+Jesuit, are very different. The one is the means which brave men may use
+to accomplish noble ends; the other is the wily machinations of a
+perfidious man to attain his own base purposes. The one is the skilful
+fence and foil of the swordsman, the other the subtle and deceitful
+design of the sneaking snake."
+
+"Still they both do what is plainly a deception, in order to accomplish
+an end which they each believe to be good. Once break down the barrier
+to the field of truth, and it is impossible any longer to distinguish
+between virtue and error."
+
+"Well," said Mrs. Temple, "I am the last to blame the bridge which
+carries me over, and I'll warrant there is not one here, man or woman,
+who isn't glad that our lives have been saved by Mamalis's
+falsehood--for I have not had such a fright in all my days."
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[8] Gods.
+
+[9] Guns.
+
+[10] Heaven.
+
+[11] The good spirit of the Indians.
+
+[12] The pipe of peace.
+
+[13] When a peace was concluded a tree was planted, and the contracting
+parties declared that the peace should be as long lived as the tree.
+
+[14] The friend or benefactor.
+
+[15] The Werowance, or chief of a tribe, was appointed by the Governor,
+and this mode of appointment gave great dissatisfaction to the Indians.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+    "Religion, 'tis that doth distinguish us
+    From their bruit humour, well we may it know,
+    That can with understanding argue thus,
+    Our God is truth, but they cannot do so."
+                                      _Smith's History._
+
+
+As may be well imagined, the Indian attack formed the chief topic of
+conversation at Windsor Hall during the day. Many were the marvellous
+stories which were called to memory, of Indian warfare and of Indian
+massacres--of the sad fate of those who had been their victims, the
+tortures to which their prisoners had been subjected, and the relentless
+cruelty with which even the tender babe, while smiling in the face of
+its ruthless murderer, was dashed pitilessly against a tree. Among these
+narratives, the most painful was that detailing the fate of George
+Cassen, who, tied to a tree by strong cords, was doomed to see his flesh
+and joints cut off, one by one, and roasted before his eyes; his head
+and face flayed with sharp mussel shells, and his belly ripped open;
+until at last, in the extremity of his agony, he welcomed the very
+flames which consumed him, and rescued his body from their cruelty.[16]
+
+Uncle Giles, whose premature action had so nearly ruined them all, and
+yet had probably been the cause of their ultimate safety, was the hero
+of the day, and loud was the laugh at the incident of the gun and
+kitchen chimney. The old man's bruises were soon tended and healed, and
+the grateful creature declared that "Miss Ginny's _lineaments_ always
+did him more good than all the doctors in the world;" and in truth they
+were good for sore eyes.
+
+It was during the morning's conversation that Bernard learned from his
+host, and from Virginia, the intimate relations existing between Mamalis
+and the family at Windsor Hall. Many years before, there had been, about
+two miles from the hall, an Indian village, inhabited by some of the
+tribe of the Pamunkeys. Among them was an old chieftain named
+Nantaquaus,[17] who claimed to be of the same lineage as Powhatan, and
+who, worn out with war, now resided among his people as their
+patriarchal counsellor. In the hostilities which had existed before the
+long peace, which was only ended by the difficulties that gave rise to
+Bacon's Rebellion, the whole of the inhabitants of the little village
+had been cut off by the whites, with the exception of this old patriarch
+and his two orphan grand-children, who were saved through the
+interposition of Colonel Temple, exerted in their behalf on account of
+some kindness he had received at their hands. Grateful for the life of
+his little descendants, for he had long since ceased to care for the
+prolongation of his own existence, old Nantaquaus continued to live on
+terms approaching even to intimacy with the Temples. When at length he
+died, he bequeathed his grand-children to the care of his protector. It
+was his wish, however, that they should still remain in the old wigwam
+where he had lived, and where they could best remember him, and, in
+visions, visit his spirit in the far hunting ground. In compliance with
+this, his last wish, Manteo and Mamalis continued their residence in
+that rude old hut, and secured a comfortable subsistence--he by fishing
+and the chase, and she by the cultivation of their little patch of
+ground, where maize, melons, pompions, cushaus, and the like, rewarded
+her patient labour with their abundant growth. Besides these duties, to
+which the life of the Indian woman was devoted, the young girl in her
+leisure moments, and in the long winter, made, with pretty skill, mats,
+baskets and sandals, weaving the former curiously with the long willow
+twigs which grew along the banks of the neighbouring York river, and
+forming the latter with dressed deer skin, ornamented with flowers made
+of beads and shells, or with the various coloured feathers of the birds.
+Her little manufactures met with a ready sale at the hall, being
+exchanged for sugar and coffee, and other such comforts as civilization
+provides; and for the sale of the excess of these simple articles over
+the home demand, she found a willing agent in the Colonel, who, in his
+frequent visits to Jamestown, disposed of them to advantage.
+
+Despite these associations, however, Manteo retained much of the
+original character of his race, and the wild forest life which he led,
+bringing him into communication with the less civilized members of his
+tribe, helped to cherish the native-fierceness of his temper. Clinging
+with tenacity to the superstitions and pursuits of his fathers, his mind
+was of that sterile soil, in which the seeds of civilization take but
+little root. His sister, without having herself lost all the peculiar
+features of her natural character, was still formed in a different
+mould, and her softer nature had already received some slight impress
+from Virginia's teachings, which led her by slow but certain degrees
+towards the truth. His was of that fierce, tiger nature, which Horace
+has so finely painted in his nervous description of Achilles,
+
+    "Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer!"
+
+While her's can be best understood by her name, Mamalis, which,
+signifying in her own language a young fawn, at once expressed the grace
+of her person and the gentleness of her nature.
+
+Such is a brief but sufficient description of the characters and
+condition of these two young Indians, who play an important part in this
+narrative. The description, we may well suppose, derived additional
+interest to Bernard, from its association with the recent exciting
+scene, and from the interest which his heart began already to entertain
+for the fair narrator.
+
+But probably the most amusing, if not the most instructive portion of
+the morning's conversation, was that in which Mrs. Temple bore a
+conspicuous part. The danger being past, the good woman adverted with
+much pride to the calmness and fortitude which she had displayed during
+the latter part of the trying scene. She never suspected that her
+conduct had been at all open to criticism, for in the excess of her
+agitation, she had not been aware, either of her manner or her language.
+
+"The fact is, gentlemen," she said, "that while you all displayed great
+coolness and resolution, it was well that you were not surrounded by
+timid women to embarrass you with their fears. I was determined that
+none of you should see my alarm, and I have no doubt you were surprised
+at my calmness."
+
+"It was very natural for ladies to feel alarm," said Hansford, scarcely
+able to repress the rising smile, "under circumstances, which inspired
+even strong men with fear. I only wonder that you bore it so well."
+
+"Ah, it is easy to see you are apologizing for Virginia, and I must
+confess that once or twice she did almost shake my self-possession a
+little by her agitation. But poor thing! we should make allowance for
+her. She is unaccustomed to such scenes. I, who was, you may say,
+cradled in a revolution, and brought up in civil war, am not so easily
+frightened."
+
+"No, indeed, Bessy," said old Temple, smiling good humouredly, "so
+entirely were you free from the prevailing fears, that I believe you
+were unconscious half the time of what was going on."
+
+"Well, really, Colonel Temple," said the old lady, bristling up at this
+insinuation, "I think it ill becomes you to be exposing me as a jest
+before an entire stranger. However, it makes but little difference. It
+won't last always."
+
+This prediction of his good wife, that "It," which always referred to
+her husband's conduct immediately before, was doomed like all other
+earthly things to terminate, was generally a precursor to hysterics. And
+so she shook her head and patted her foot hysterically, while the
+Colonel wholly unconscious of any reasonable cause for the offence he
+had given, rolled up his eyes and shrugged his shoulders in silence.
+
+Leaving the good couple to settle at their leisure those little disputes
+which never lasted on an average more than five minutes, let us follow
+Virginia as she goes down stairs to make some preparation for dinner. As
+she passed through the hall on her way to the store-room, she saw the
+graceful form of Mamalis just leaving the house. In the conversation
+which ensued we must beg the reader to imagine the broken English in
+which the young Indian expressed herself, while we endeavor to give it a
+free and more polite translation.
+
+"Mamalis, you are not going home already, are you," said Virginia, in a
+gentle voice.
+
+"Yes," replied the girl, with a sigh.
+
+"Why do you sigh, Mamalis? Are you unhappy, my poor girl?"
+
+"It is very sad to be alone in my poor wigwam," she replied.
+
+"Then stay with us, Manteo is away, and will probably not be back for
+some days."
+
+"He would be angry if he came home and found me away."
+
+"Oh, my poor girl," said Virginia, taking her tenderly by the hand, "I
+wish you could stay with me, and let me teach you as I used to about God
+and heaven. Oh, think of these things, Mamalis, and they will make you
+happy even when alone. Wouldn't you like to have a friend always near
+you when Manteo is away?"
+
+"Oh yes," said the girl earnestly.
+
+"Well, there is just such a Friend who will never desert you; who is
+ever near to protect you in danger, and to comfort you in distress.
+Whose eye is never closed in sleep, and whose thoughts are never
+wandering from his charge."
+
+"That cannot be," said the young Indian, incredulously.
+
+"Yes, it both can be and is so," returned her friend. "One who has
+promised, that if we trust in him he will never leave us nor forsake us.
+That friend is the powerful Son of God, and the loving Brother of simple
+man. One who died to show his love, and who lives to show his power to
+protect. It is Jesus Christ."
+
+"You told me about him long ago," said Mamalis, shaking her head, "but I
+never saw him. He never comes to Manteo's wigwam."
+
+"Nay, but He is still your friend," urged Virginia earnestly. "When you
+left the room this morning on that work of mercy to save us all, I did
+not see you, and yet I told my father that I knew you would do us good.
+Were you less my friend because I didn't see you?
+
+"No."
+
+"No," continued Virginia, "you were more my friend, for if you had
+remained with me, we might all have been lost. And so Jesus has but
+withdrawn Himself from our eyes that He may intercede with his offended
+father, as you did with Manteo."
+
+"Does he tell lies for us?" said the girl with artless simplicity, and
+still remembering her interview with her brother. Virginia felt a thrill
+of horror pass through her heart as she heard such language, but
+remembering the ignorance of her poor blinded pupil, she proceeded.
+
+"Oh! Mamalis, do not talk thus. He of whom I speak is not as we are, and
+cannot commit a sin. But while He cannot commit sin Himself, He can die
+for the sins of others."
+
+"Well," said the poor girl, seeing that she had unwittingly hurt the
+feelings of her friend, "I don't understand all that. Your God is so
+high, mine I can see and understand. But you love your God, I only fear
+mine."
+
+"And do you not believe that God is good, my poor friend?" said
+Virginia, with a sigh.
+
+"From Manitou all good proceeds," replied Mamalis, as with beautiful
+simplicity she thus detailed her simple creed, which she had been taught
+by her fathers. "From him is life, and joy, and love. The blue sky is
+his home, and the green earth he has made for his pleasure. The fresh
+smelling flowers and the pure air are his breath, and the sweet music of
+the wind through the woods is his voice. The stars that he has sown
+through heaven, are the pure shells which he has picked up by the rivers
+which flow through the spirit land; and the sun is his chariot, with
+which he drives through heaven, while he smiles upon the world. Such is
+Manitou, whose very life is the good giving; the bliss-bestowing."
+
+"My sweet Mamalis," said Virginia, "you have, indeed, in your ignorance,
+painted a beautiful picture of the beneficence of God. And can you
+not--do you not thank this Giver of every good and perfect gift for all
+his mercies?"
+
+"I cannot thank him for that which he must bestow," said the girl. "We
+do not thank the flower because its scent is sweet; nor the birds that
+fill the woods with their songs, because their music is grateful to the
+ear. Manitou is made to be adored, not to be thanked, for his very
+essence is good, and his very breath is love."
+
+"But remember, my friend, that the voice of this Great Spirit is heard
+in the thunder, as well as in the breeze, and his face is revealed in
+the lightning as well as in the flower. He is the author of evil as well
+as of good, and should we not pray that He would avert the first, even
+if He heed not our prayer to bestow the last."
+
+If Virginia was shocked by the sentiments of her pupil before, Mamalis
+was now as much so. Such an idea as ascribing evil to the great Spirit
+of the Universe, never entered the mind of the young savage, and now
+that she first heard it, she looked upon it as little less than open
+profanity.
+
+"Manitou is not heard in the thunder nor seen in the lightning," she
+replied. "It is Okee whose fury against us is aroused, and who thus
+turns blessings into curses, and good into evil. To him we pray that he
+look not upon us with a frown, nor withhold the mercies that flow from
+Manitou; that the rains may fall upon our maize, and the sun may ripen
+it in the full ear; that he send the fat wild deer across my brother's
+path, and ride on his arrow until it reach its heart; that he direct the
+grand council in wisdom, and guide the tomahawk in its aim in battle.
+But I have tarried too long, my brother may await my coming."
+
+"Nay, but you shall not go--at least," said Virginia, "without something
+for your trouble. You have nearly lost a day, already. And come often
+and see me, Mamalis, and we will speak of these things again. I will
+teach you that your Manitou is good, as well as the author of good; and
+that he is love, as well as the fountain of love in others; that it is
+to him we should pray and in whom we should trust, and he will lead us
+safely through all our trials in this life, and take us to a purer
+spirit land than that of which you dream."
+
+Mamalis shook her head, but promised she would come. Then loading her
+with such things as she thought she stood in need of, and which the poor
+girl but seldom met with, except from the same kind hand, Virginia bid
+her God speed, and they parted; Mamalis to her desolate wigwam, and
+Virginia to her labours in the household affairs, which had devolved
+upon her.[18]
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[16] Fact.
+
+[17] This was also the name of the only son of the great Powhatan, as
+appears by John Smith's letter to the Queen, introducing the Princess
+Pocahontas.
+
+[18] In the foregoing scene the language of Mamalis has been purposely
+rendered more pure than as it fell from her lips, because thus it was
+better suited to the dignity of her theme. As for the creed itself, it
+is taken from so many sources, that it would be impossible, even if
+desirable, to quote any authorities. The statements of Smith and
+Beverley, are, however, chiefly relied upon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+    "And will you rend our ancient love asunder,
+    And join with men in scorning your poor friend."
+                                  _Midsummer Night's Dream._
+
+
+While Virginia was thus engaged, she was surprised by hearing a light
+step behind her, and looking up she saw Hansford pale and agitated,
+standing in the room.
+
+"What in the world is the matter?" she cried, alarmed at his appearance;
+"have the Indians--"
+
+"No, dearest, the Indians are far away ere this. But alas! there are
+other enemies to our peace than they."
+
+"What do you mean?" she said, "speak! why do you thus agitate me by
+withholding what you would say."
+
+"My dear Virginia," replied her lover, "do you not remember that I told
+you last night that I had something to communicate, which would surprise
+and grieve you. I cannot expect you to understand or appreciate fully my
+motives. But you can at least hear me patiently, and by the memory of
+our love, by the sacred seal of our plighted troth, I beg you to hear me
+with indulgence, if not forgiveness."
+
+"There are but few things, Hansford, that you could do," said Virginia,
+gravely, "that love would not teach me to forgive. Go on. I hear you
+patiently."
+
+"My story will be brief," said Hansford, "although it may involve sad
+consequences to me. I need only say, that I have felt the oppressions of
+the government, under which the colony is groaning; I have witnessed the
+duplicity and perfidy of Sir William Berkeley, and I have determined
+with the arm and heart of a man, to maintain the rights of a man."
+
+"What oppressions, what perfidy, what rights, do you mean?" said
+Virginia, turning pale with apprehension.
+
+"You can scarcely understand those questions dearest. But do you not
+know that the temporizing policy, the criminal delay of Berkeley, has
+already made the blood of Englishmen flow by the hand of savages. Even
+the agony which you this morning suffered, is due to the indirect
+encouragement given to the Indians by his fatal indulgence."
+
+"And you have proved false to your country," cried Virginia. "Oh!
+Hansford, for the sake of your honour, for the sake of your love, unsay
+the word which stains your soul with treason."
+
+"Nay, my own Virginia, understand me. I may be a rebel to my king. I may
+almost sacrifice my love, but I am true, ever true to my country. The
+day has passed, Virginia, when that word was so restricted in its
+meaning as to be confounded with the erring mortal, who should be its
+minister and not its tyrant. The blood of Charles the First has mingled
+with the blood of those brave martyrs who perished for liberty, and has
+thus cemented the true union between a prince and his people. It has
+given to the world, that useful lesson, that the sovereign is invested
+with his power, to protect, and not to destroy the rights of his people;
+that freemen may be restrained by wholesome laws, but that they are
+freemen still. That lesson, Sir William Berkeley must yet be taught. The
+patriot who dares to teach him, is at last, the truest lover of his
+country."
+
+"I scarcely know what you say," said the young girl, weeping, "but tell
+me, oh, tell me, have you joined your fortunes with a rebel?"
+
+"If thus you choose to term him who loves freedom better than chains,
+who would rather sacrifice life itself than to drag out a weary
+existence beneath the galling yoke of oppression, I have. I know you
+blame me. I know you hate me now," he added, in a sad voice, "but while
+it was my duty, as a freeman and a patriot, to act thus, it was also my
+duty, as an honourable man, to tell you all. You remember the last lines
+of our favourite song,
+
+    "I had not loved thee dear, so much,
+    Loved I not honour more."
+
+"Alas! I remember the words but too well," replied Virginia, sadly, "but
+I had been taught that the honour there spoken of, was loyalty to a
+king, not treason. Oh, Hansford, forgive me, but how can I, reared as I
+have been, with such a father, how can I"--she hesitated, unable to
+complete the fatal sentence.
+
+"I understand you," said Hansford. "But one thing then remains undone.
+The proscribed rebel must be an outlaw to Virginia Temple's heart. The
+trial is a sore one, but even this sacrifice can I make to my beloved
+country. Thus then I give you back your troth. Take it--take it," he
+cried, and with one hand covering his eyes, he seemed with the other to
+tear from his heart some treasured jewel that refused to yield its
+place.
+
+The violence of his manner, even more than the fatal words he had
+spoken, alarmed Virginia, and with a wild scream, that rang through the
+old hall, she threw herself fainting upon his neck. The noise reached
+the ears of the party, who remained above stairs, and Colonel Temple,
+his wife, and Bernard, threw open the door and stood for a moment silent
+spectators of the solemn scene. There stood Hansford, his eye lit up
+with excitement, his face white as ashes, and his strong arm supporting
+the trembling form of the young girl, while with his other hand he was
+chafing her white temples, and smoothing back the long golden tresses
+that had fallen dishevelled over her face.
+
+"My child, my child," shrieked her mother, who was the first to speak,
+"what on earth is the matter?"
+
+"Yes, Hansford, in the devil's name, what is to pay?" said the old
+colonel. "Why, Jeanie," he added, taking the fair girl tenderly in his
+arms, "you are not half the heroine you were when the Indians were here.
+There now, that's a sweet girl, open your blue eyes and tell old father
+what is the matter."
+
+"Nothing, dear father," said Virginia, faintly, as she slowly opened her
+eyes. "I have been very foolish, that's all."
+
+"Nay, Jeanie, it takes more than nothing or folly to steal the bloom
+away from these rosy cheeks."
+
+"Perhaps the young gentleman can explain more easily," said Bernard,
+fixing his keen eyes on his rival. "A little struggle, perhaps, between
+love and loyalty."
+
+"Mr. Bernard, with all his shrewdness, would probably profit by the
+reflection," said Hansford, coldly, "that as a stranger here, his
+opinions upon a matter of purely family concern, are both unwelcome and
+impertinent."
+
+"May be so," replied Bernard with a sneer; "but scarcely more unwelcome
+than the gross and continued deception practised by yourself towards
+those who have honoured you with their confidence."
+
+Hansford, stung by the remark, laid his hand upon his sword, but was
+withheld by Colonel Temple, who cried out with impatience,
+
+"Why, what the devil do you mean? Zounds, it seems to me that my house
+is bewitched to-day. First those cursed Indians, with their infernal
+yells, threatening death and destruction to all and sundry; then my
+daughter here, playing the fool before my face, according to her own
+confession; and lastly, a couple of forward boys picking a quarrel with
+one another after a few hours' acquaintance. Damn it, Tom, you were wont
+to have a plain tongue in your head. Tell me, what is the matter?"
+
+"My kind old friend," said Hansford, with a tremulous voice, "I would
+fain have reserved for your private ear, an explanation which is now
+rendered necessary by that insolent minion, whose impertinence had
+already received the chastisement it deserves, but for an unfortunate
+interruption."
+
+"Nay, Tom," said the Colonel, "no harsh words. Remember this young man
+is my guest, and as such, entitled to respect from all under my roof."
+
+"Well then, sir," continued Hansford, "this young lady's agitation was
+caused by the fact that I have lately pursued a course, which, while I
+believe it to be just and honourable, I fear will meet with but little
+favour in your eyes."
+
+"As much in the dark as ever," said the Colonel, perplexed beyond
+measure, for his esteem for Hansford prevented him from suspecting the
+true cause of his daughter's disquiet. "Damn it, man, Davus sum non
+OEdipus. Speak out plainly, and if your conduct has been, as you say,
+consistent with your honour, trust to an old friend to forgive you.
+Zounds, boy, I have been young myself, and can make allowance for the
+waywardness of youth. Been gaming a little too high, hey; well, the
+rest[19] was not so low in my day, but that I can excuse that, if you
+didn't 'pull down the side.'"[20]
+
+"I would fain do the young man a service, for I bear him no ill-will,
+though he has treated me a little harshly," said Bernard, as he saw
+Hansford silently endeavouring to frame a reply in the most favourable
+terms, "I see he is ashamed of his cause, and well he may be; for you
+must know that he has become a great man of late, and has linked his
+fate to a certain Nathaniel Bacon."
+
+The old loyalist started as he heard this unexpected announcement, then
+with a deep sigh, which seemed to come from his very soul, he turned to
+Hansford and said, "My boy, deny the foul charge; say it is not so."
+
+"It is, indeed, true," replied Hansford, mournfully, "but when--"
+
+"But when the devil!" cried the old man, bursting into a fit of rage;
+"and you expect me to stand here and listen to your justification.
+Zounds, sir, I would feel like a traitor myself to hear you speak. And
+this is the serpent that I have warmed and cherished at my hearth-stone.
+Out of my house, sir!"
+
+"To think," chimed in Mrs. Temple, for once agreeing fully with her
+husband, "how near our family, that has always prided itself on its
+loyalty, was being allied to a traitor. But he shall never marry
+Virginia, I vow."
+
+"No, by God," said the enraged loyalist; "she should rot in her grave
+first."
+
+"Miss Temple is already released from her engagement," said Hansford,
+recovering his calmness in proportion as the other party lost their's.
+"She is free to choose for herself, sir."
+
+"And that choice shall never light on you, apostate," cried Temple,
+"unless she would bring my grey hairs in sorrow to the grave."
+
+"And mine, too," said the old lady, beginning to weep.
+
+"I will not trouble you longer with my presence," said Hansford,
+proudly, "except to thank you for past kindness, which I can never
+forget. Farewell, Colonel Temple, I respect your prejudices, though they
+have led you to curse me. Farewell, Mrs. Temple, I will ever think of
+your generous hospitality with gratitude. Farewell, Virginia, forget
+that such a being as Thomas Hansford ever darkened your path through
+life, and think of our past love as a dream. I can bear your
+forgetfulness, but not your hate. For you, sir," he added, turning to
+Alfred Bernard, "let me hope that we will meet again, where no
+interruption will prevent our final separation."
+
+With these words, Hansford, his form proudly erect, but his heart bowed
+down with sorrow, slowly left the house.
+
+"Are you not a Justice of the Peace?" asked Bernard, with a meaning
+look.
+
+"And what is that to you, sir?" replied the old man, suspecting the
+design of the question.
+
+"Only, sir, that as such it is your sworn duty to arrest that traitor. I
+know it is painful, but still it is your duty."
+
+"And who the devil told you to come and teach me my duty, sir?" said the
+old man, wrathfully. "Let me tell you, sir, that Tom Hansford, with all
+his faults, is a d--d sight better than a great many who are free from
+the stain of rebellion. Rebellion!--oh, my God!--poor, poor Tom."
+
+"Nay, then, sir," said Bernard, meekly, "I beg your pardon. I only felt
+it my duty to remind you of what you might have forgotten. God forbid
+that I should wish to endanger the life of a poor young man, whose only
+fault may be that he was too easily led away by others."
+
+"You are right, by God," said the Colonel, quickly. "He is the victim of
+designing men, and yet I never said a word to reclaim him. Oh, I have
+acted basely and not like a friend. I will go now and bring him back,
+wife; though if he don't repent--zounds!--neither will I; no, not for a
+million friends."
+
+So saying, the noble-hearted old loyalist, whose impulsive nature was as
+prompt to redeem as to commit an error, started from the room to reclaim
+his lost boy. It was too late. Hansford, anticipating the result of the
+fatal revelation, had ordered his horse even before his first interview
+with Virginia. The old Colonel only succeeded in catching a glimpse of
+him from the porch, as at a full gallop he disappeared through the
+forest.
+
+With a heavy sigh he returned to the study, there to meet with the
+consolations of his good wife, which were contained in the following
+words:
+
+"Well, I hope and trust he is gone, and will never darken our doors
+again. You know, my dear, I always told you that you were wrong about
+that young man, Hansford. There always seemed to be a lack of frankness
+and openness in his character, and although I do not like to interpose
+my objections, yet I never altogether approved of the match. You know I
+always told you so."
+
+"Told the devil!" cried the old man, goaded to the very verge of despair
+by this new torture. "I beg your pardon, Bessy, for speaking so hastily,
+but, damn it, if all the angels in Heaven had told me that Tom Hansford
+could prove a traitor, I would not have believed it."
+
+And how felt she, that wounded, trusting one, who thus in a short day
+had seen the hopes and dreams of happiness, which fancy had woven in her
+young heart, all rudely swept away! 'Twere wrong to lift the veil from
+that poor stricken heart, now torn with grief too deep for words--too
+deep, alas! for tears. With her cheek resting on her white hand, she
+gazed tearlessly, but vacantly, towards the forest where he had so
+lately vanished as a dream. To those who spoke to her, she answered
+sadly in monosyllables, and then turned her head away, as if it were
+still sweet to cherish thus the agony which consumed her. But the
+bitterest drop in all this cup of woe, was the self-reproach which
+mingled with her recollection of that sad scene. When he had frankly
+given back her troth, she, alas! had not stayed his hand, nor by a word
+had told him how truly, even in his guilt, her heart was his. And now,
+she thought, when thus driven harshly into the cold world, his only
+friends among the enemies to truth, his enemies its friends, how one
+little word of love, or even of pity, might have redeemed him from
+error, or at least have cheered him in his dark career.
+
+But bear up bravely, sweet one; for heavier, darker sorrows yet must
+cast their shadows on thy young heart, ere yet its warm pulsations cease
+to beat, and it be laid at rest.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[19] Rest was the prescribed limit to the size of the venture.
+
+[20] To pull down the side was a technical term with our ancestors for
+cheating.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+    "Wounded in both my honour and my love;
+      They have pierced me in two tender parts.
+    Yet, could I take my just revenge,
+      It would in some degree assuage my smart."
+                                          _Vanbrugh._
+
+
+It was at an early hour on the following morning that the queer old
+chariot of Colonel Temple--one of the few, by the way, which wealth had
+as yet introduced into the colony--was drawn up before the door. The two
+horses of the gentlemen were standing ready saddled and bridled, in the
+care of the hostler. In a few moments, the ladies, all dressed for the
+journey, and the gentlemen, with their heavy spurs, long, clanging
+swords, and each with a pair of horseman's pistols, issued from the
+house into the yard. The old lady, declaring that they were too late,
+and that, if her advice had been taken, they would have been half way to
+Jamestown, was the first to get into the carriage, armed with a huge
+basket of bread, beef's tongue, cold ham and jerked venison, which was
+to supply the place of dinner on the road. Virginia, pale and sad, but
+almost happy at any change from scenes where every object brought up
+some recollection of the banished Hansford, followed her mother; and the
+large trunk having been strapped securely behind the carriage, and the
+band-box, containing the old lady's tire for the ball and other light
+articles of dress, having been secured, the little party were soon in
+motion.
+
+The hope and joy with which Virginia had looked forward to this trip to
+Jamestown had been much enhanced by the certainty that Hansford would be
+there. With the joyousness of her girlish heart, she had pictured to
+herself the scene of pleasure and festivity which awaited her. The Lady
+Frances' birth-day, always celebrated at the palace with the voice of
+music and the graceful dance--with the presence of the noblest cavaliers
+from all parts of the colony, and the smiles of the fairest damsels who
+lighted the society of the Old Dominion--was this year to be celebrated
+with unusual festivities. But, alas! how changed were the feelings of
+Virginia now!--how blighted were the hopes which had blossomed in her
+heart!
+
+Their road lay for the most part through a beautiful forest, where the
+tall poplar, the hickory, the oak and the chestnut were all indigenous,
+and formed an avenue shaded by their broad branches from the intense
+rays of the summer sun. Now and then the horses were startled at the
+sudden appearance of some fairy-footed deer, as it bounded lightly but
+swiftly through the woods; or at the sudden whirring of the startled
+pheasant, as she flew from their approach; or the jealous gobble of the
+stately turkey, as he led his strutting dames into his thicket-harem.
+The nimble grey squirrel, too, chattered away saucily in his high leafy
+nest, secure from attack from his very insignificance. Birds innumerable
+were seen flitting from branch to branch, and tuning their mellow voices
+as choristers in this forest-temple of Nature. The song of the thrush
+and the red-bird came sweetly from the willows, whose weeping branches
+overhung the neighbouring banks of a broad stream; the distant dove
+joined her mournful melody to their cheerful notes, and the woodpecker,
+on the blasted trunk of some stricken oak, tapped his rude bass in
+unison with the happy choir of the forest.
+
+All this Virginia saw and heard, and _felt_--yes, felt it all as a
+bitter mockery: as if, in these joyous bursts from the big heart of
+Nature, she were coldly regardless of the sorrows of those, her
+children, who had sought their happiness apart; as though the avenging
+Creator had given man naught but the bitter fruit of that fatal tree of
+knowledge, while he lavished with profusion on all the rest of his
+creation the choicest fruits that flourished in His paradise.
+
+In vain did Bernard, with his soft and winning voice, point out these
+beauties to Virginia. In vain, with all the rich stores of his gifted
+mind, did he seek to alienate her thoughts from the one subject that
+engrossed them. She scarcely heard what he said, and when at length
+urged by the impatient nudges of her mother to answer, she showed by her
+absence of mind how faint had been the impression which he made. A
+thousand fears for the safety of her lover mingled with her thoughts.
+Travelling alone in that wild country, with hostile Indians infesting
+the colony, what, alas! might be his fate! Or even if he should escape
+these dangers, still, in open arms against his government, proclaimed a
+rebel by the Governor, a more horrible destiny might await him. And then
+the overwhelming thought came upon her, that be his fate in other
+respects what it might--whether he should fall by the cruelty of the
+savage, the sword of the enemy, or, worst of all, by the vengeance of
+his indignant country--to her at least he was lost forever.
+
+Avoiding carefully any reference to the subject of her grief, and
+bending his whole mind to the one object of securing her attention,
+Alfred Bernard endeavored to beguile her with graphic descriptions of
+the scenes he had left in England. He spoke--and on such subjects none
+could speak more charmingly--of the brilliant society of wits, and
+statesmen, and beauties, which clustered together in the metropolis and
+the palace of the restored Stuart. Passing lightly over the vices of the
+court, he dwelt upon its pageantry, its wit, its philosophy, its poetry.
+The talents of the gay and accomplished, but vicious Rochester, were no
+more seen dimmed in their lustre by his faithlessness to his wife, or
+his unprincipled vices in the _beau monde_ of London. Anecdote after
+anecdote, of Waller, of Cowley, of Dryden, flowed readily from his lips.
+The coffee-houses were described, where wit and poetry, science and art,
+politics and religion, were discussed by the first intellects of the
+age, and allured the aspiring youth of England from the vices of
+dissipation, that they might drink in rich draughts of knowledge from
+these Pierian springs. The theatre, the masque, the revels, which the
+genial rays of the Restoration had once more warmed into life, next
+formed the subjects of his conversation. Then passing from this picture
+of gay society, he referred to the religious discussions of the day. His
+eye sparkled and his cheek glowed as he spoke of the triumphs of the
+established Church over puritanical heresy; and his lip curled, and he
+laughed satirically, as he described the heroic sufferings of some
+conscientious Baptist, dragged at the tail of a cart, and whipped from
+his cell in Newgate to Tyburn hill. Gradually did Virginia's thoughts
+wander from the one sad topic which had engrossed them, and by
+imperceptible degrees, even unconsciously to herself, she became deeply
+interested in his discourse. Her mother, whom the wily Bernard took
+occasion ever and anon, to propitiate with flattery, was completely
+carried away, and in the inmost recesses of her heart a hope was
+hatched that the eloquent young courtier would soon take the place of
+the rebel Hansford, in the affections of her daughter.
+
+We have referred to a stream, along whose forest-banks their road had
+wound. That stream was the noble York, whose broad bosom, now broader
+and more beautiful than ever, lay full in their view, and on which the
+duck, the widgeon and the gull were quietly floating. Here and there
+could be seen the small craft of some patient fisherman, as it stood
+anchored at a little distance from the shore, its white sail shrouding
+the solitary mast; and at an opening in the woods, about a mile ahead,
+rose the tall masts of an English vessel, riding safely in the broad
+harbour of Yorktown--then the commercial rival of Jamestown in the
+colony.
+
+The road now became too narrow for the gentlemen any longer to ride by
+the side of the carriage, and at the suggestion of the Colonel, an
+arrangement was adopted by which he should lead the little party in
+front, while Bernard should bring up the rear. This precaution was the
+more necessary, as the abrupt banks of the river, with the dense bushes
+which grew along them, was a safe lurking place for any Indians who
+might be skulking about the country.
+
+"A very nice gentleman, upon my word," said Mrs. Temple, when Alfred
+Bernard was out of hearing. "Virginia, don't you like him?"
+
+"Yes, very much, as far as I have an opportunity of judging."
+
+"His information is so extensive, his views so correct, his conversation
+so delightful. Don't you think so?"
+
+"Yes, mother," replied Virginia.
+
+"Yes, mother! Why don't you show more spirit?" said her mother. "There
+you sat moping in the carriage the whole way, looking for all the world
+as if you didn't understand a word he was saying. That isn't right, my
+dear; you should look up and show more spirit--d'ye hear!"
+
+"You mistake,mother; I did enjoy the ride very much, and found Mr.
+Bernard very agreeable."
+
+"Well, but you were so lack-a-daisical and yea, nay, in your manner to
+him. How do you expect a young man to feel any interest in you, if you
+never give him any encouragement?"
+
+"Why, mother, I don't suppose Mr. Bernard takes any more interest in me
+than he would in any casual acquaintance; and, indeed, if he did, I
+certainly cannot return it. But I will try and cheer up, and be more
+agreeable for your sake."
+
+"That's right, my dear daughter; remember that your old mother knows
+what is best for you, and she will never advise you wrong. I think it is
+very plain that this young gentleman has taken a fancy to you already,
+and while I would not have you too pert and forward, yet it is well
+enough to show off, and, in a modest way, do everything to encourage
+him. You know I always said, my dear, that you were too young when you
+formed an attachment for that young Hansford, and that you did not know
+your own heart, and now you see I was right."
+
+Virginia did not see that her mother was right, but she was too well
+trained to reply; and so, without a word, she yielded herself once more
+to her own sad reflections, and, true-hearted girl that she was, she
+soon forgot the fascinations of Alfred Bernard in her memory of
+Hansford.
+
+They had not proceeded far, when Bernard saw, seated on the trunk of a
+fallen tree, the dusky form of a young Indian, whom he soon recognized
+as the leader of the party who the day before had made the attack upon
+Windsor Hall. The interest which he felt in this young man, whose early
+history he had heard, combined with a curiosity to converse with one of
+the strange race to which he belonged, and, as will be seen, a darker
+motive and a stronger reason than either, induced Bernard to rein up his
+horse, and permitting his companions to proceed some distance in front,
+to accost the young Indian. Alfred Bernard, by nature and from
+education, was perfectly fearless, though he lacked the magnanimity
+which, united with fearlessness, constitutes bravery. Laying his hand on
+his heart, which, as he had already learned, was the friendly salutation
+used with and toward the savages, he rode slowly towards Manteo. The
+young Indian recognized the gesture which assured him of his friendly
+intent, and rising from his rude seat, patiently waited for him to
+speak.
+
+"I would speak to you," said Bernard.
+
+"Speak on."
+
+"Are you entirely alone?"
+
+"Ugh," grunted Manteo, affirmatively.
+
+"Where are those who were with you at Windsor Hall?"
+
+"Gone to Delaware,[21] to Matchicomoco."[22]
+
+"Why did you not go with them?" asked Bernard.
+
+"Manteo love long-knife--Pamunkey hate Manteo--drive him away from his
+tribe," said the young savage, sorrowfully.
+
+The truth flashed upon Bernard at once. This young savage, who, in a
+moment of selfish ambition, for his own personal advancement, had
+withheld the vengeance of his people, was left by those whom he had once
+led, as no longer worthy of their confidence. In the fate of this
+untutored son of the forest, the young courtier had found a sterner
+rebuke to selfishness and ambition than he had ever seen in the court of
+the monarch of England.
+
+"And so you are alone in the world now?" said Bernard.
+
+"Ugh!"
+
+"With nothing to hope or to live for?"
+
+"One hope left," said Manteo, laying his hand on his tomahawk.
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"Revenge."
+
+"On whom?"
+
+"On long-knives and Pamunkeys."
+
+"If you live for revenge," said Bernard, "we live for nearly the same
+object. You may trust me--I will be your friend. Do you know me?"
+
+"No!" said Manteo, shaking his head.
+
+"Well, I know you," said Bernard. "Now, what if I help you to the sweet
+morsel of revenge you speak of?"
+
+"I tank you den."
+
+"Do you know your worst enemy?"
+
+"Manteo!"
+
+"How--why so?"
+
+"I make all my oder enemy."
+
+"Nay, but I know an enemy who is even worse than yourself, because he
+has made you your own enemy. One who oppresses your race, and is even
+now making war upon your people. I mean Thomas Hansford."
+
+"Ugh!" said Manteo, with more surprise than he had yet manifested; and
+for once, leaving his broken English, he cried in his own tongue,
+"Ahoaleu Virginia." (He loves Virginia Temple.)
+
+"And do you?" said Bernard, guessing at his meaning, and marking with
+surprise the more than ordinary feeling with which Manteo had uttered
+these words.
+
+"See dere," replied Manteo, holding up an arrow, which he had already
+taken from his quiver, as if with the intention of fixing it to his
+bow-string. "De white crenepo,[23] de maiden, blunt Manteo's arrow when
+it would fly to her father's heart." At the same time he pointed towards
+the road along which the carriage had lately passed.
+
+"By the holy Virgin," muttered Bernard, "methinks the whole colony,
+Indians, negroes, and all, are going stark mad after this girl. And so
+you hate Hansford, then?" he said aloud.
+
+"No, I can't hate what she loves," replied Manteo, feelingly.
+
+"Why did you aid in attacking her father's house then, yesterday?"
+
+"Long-knives strike only when dey hate; Pamunkey fight from duty. If
+Manteo drop de tomahawk because he love, he is squaw, not a brave."
+
+"But this Hansford," said Bernard, "is in arms against your people, whom
+the government would protect."
+
+"Ugh!" grunted the young warrior. "Pamunkey want not long-knives'
+protect. De grand werowance of long-knives has cut down de peace tree
+and broke de pipe, and de tomahawk is now dug up. De grand werowance
+protect red man like eagle protect young hare."
+
+"Nay, but we would be friends with the Indians," urged Bernard. "We
+would share this great country with them, and Berkeley would be the
+great father of the Pamunkeys."
+
+The Indian looked with ineffable disdain on his companion, and then
+turning towards the river, he pointed to a large fish-hawk, who, with a
+rapid swoop, had caught in his talons a fish that had just bubbled above
+the water for breath, and borne him far away in the air.
+
+"See dere," said Manteo; "water belong to fish--hawk is fish's friend."
+
+Bernard saw that he had entirely mistaken the character of his
+companion. The vengeance of the Indians being once aroused, they failed
+to discriminate between the authors of the injuries which they had
+received, and those who sought to protect them; and they attributed to
+the great werowance of the long-knives (for so they styled the Governor
+of Virginia) all the blame of the attack and slaughter of the
+unoffending Susquehannahs. But the wily Bernard was not cast down by his
+ill success, in attempting to arouse the vengeance of Manteo against his
+rival.
+
+"Your sister is at the hall often, is she not?" he asked, after a brief
+pause.
+
+"Ugh," said the Indian, relapsing into this affirmative grunt.
+
+"So is Hansford--your sister knows him."
+
+"What of dat?"
+
+"Excuse me, my poor friend," said Bernard, "but I came to warn you that
+your sister knows him as she should not."
+
+The forest echoed with the wild yell that burst from the lips of Manteo
+at this cruel fabrication--so loud, so wild, so fearful, that the ducks
+which had been quietly basking in the sun, and admiring their graceful
+shadows in the water, were startled, and with an alarmed cry flew far
+away down the river.
+
+The Indian character, although still barbarous, had been much improved
+by association with the English. Respect for the female sex, and a
+scrupulous regard for female purity, which are ever the first results of
+dawning civilization, had already taken possession of the benighted
+souls of the Indians of Virginia. More especially was this so with the
+young Manteo, whose association with the whites, notwithstanding his
+strong devotion to his own race, had imparted more refinement and purity
+to his nature than was enjoyed by most of his tribe. Mamalis, the pure,
+the spotless Mamalis--she, whom from his earliest boyhood he had hoped
+to bestow on some young brave, who, foremost in the chase, or most
+successful in the ambuscade, could tell the story of his achievements
+among the chieftains at the council-fire--it was too much; the stern
+heart of the young Indian, though "trained from his tree-rocked cradle
+the fierce extremes of good and ill to bear," burst forth in a gush of
+agony, as he thus heard the fatal knell of all his pride and all his
+hope.
+
+Bernard was at first startled by the shriek, but soon regained his
+composure, and calm and composed regarded his victim. When at length the
+first violence of grief had subsided, he said, with a soft, mild voice,
+which fell fresh as dew upon the withered heart of the poor Indian,
+
+"I am sorry for you, my friend, but it is too true. And now, Manteo,
+what can be your only consolation?"
+
+"Revenge is de wighsacan[24] to cure dis wound," said the poor savage.
+
+"Right. This is the only food for brave and injured men. Well, we
+understand each other now--don't we?"
+
+"Ugh," grunted Manteo, with a look of satisfaction.
+
+"Very well," returned Bernard, "is your tomahawk sharp?"
+
+"It won't cut deep as dis wound, but I will sharpen it on my broken
+heart," replied Manteo, with a heavy sigh.
+
+"Right bravely said. And now farewell; I will help you as I can," said
+Alfred Bernard, as he turned and rode away, while the poor Indian sank
+down again upon his rude log seat, his head resting on his hands.
+
+"And this the world calls villainy!" mused Bernard, as he rode along.
+"But it is the weapon with which nature has armed the weak, that he may
+battle with the strong. For what purpose was the faculty of intrigue
+bestowed upon man, if it were not to be exercised? and, if exercised at
+all, why surely it can never be directed to a purer object than the
+accomplishment of good. Thus, then, what the croaking moralist calls
+evil, may always be committed if good be the result; and what higher
+good can be attained in life than happiness, and what purer happiness
+can there be than revenge? No man shall ever cross my path but once with
+safety, and this young Virginia rebel has already done so. He has shown
+his superior skill and courage with the sword, and has made me ask my
+life at his hands. Let him look to it that he may not have to plead for
+his own life in vain. This young Indian's thirst will not be quenched
+but with blood. By the way, a lucky hit was that. His infernal yell is
+sounding in my ears yet. But Hansford stands in my way besides. This
+fair young maiden, with her beauty, her intellect, and her land, may
+make my fortune yet; and who can blame the poor, friendless orphan, if
+he carve his way to honour and independence even through the blood of a
+rival. The poor, duped savage whom I just left, said that he was his own
+worst enemy; I am wiser in being my own best friend. Tell me not of the
+world--it is mine oyster, which I will open by my wits as well as by my
+sword. Prate not of morality and philanthropy. Man is a microcosm, a
+world within himself, and he only is a wise one who uses the world
+without for the success of the world within. Once supplant this Hansford
+in the love of his betrothed bride, and I succeed to the broad acres of
+Windsor Hall. Old Berkeley shall be the scaffolding by which I will rise
+to power and position, and when he rots down, the building I erect will
+be but the fairer for the riddance. Who recks the path which he has
+trod, when home and happiness are in view? What general thinks of the
+blood he has shed, when the shout of victory rings in his ears? Be true
+to yourself, Alfred Bernard, though false to all the world beside! At
+last, good father Bellini, thou hast taught me true wisdom--'Success
+sanctifies sin.'"
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[21] The name of the village at the confluence of Pamunkey and
+Mattapony, now called West Point.
+
+[22] Grand Council of the Indians.
+
+[23] A woman.
+
+[24] A root used by the Indians successfully in the cure of all wounds.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+    "Is this your joyous city, whose antiquity is of ancient days?"
+                                                              _Isaiah._
+
+        "One mouldering tower, o'ergrown with ivy, shows
+        Where first Virginia's capital arose,
+        And to the tourist's vision far withdrawn
+        Stands like a sentry at the gates of dawn.
+        The church has perished--faint the lines and dim
+        Of those whose voices raised the choral hymn,
+        Go read the record on the mossy stone,
+        'Tis brief and sad--oblivion claims its own!"
+                                        _Thompson's Virginia._
+
+
+The traveller, as he is borne on the bosom of the noble James, on the
+wheezing, grunting steamboat, may still see upon the bank of the river,
+a lonely ruin, which is all that now remains of the old church at
+Jamestown. Despite its loneliness and desolation, that old church has
+its memories, which hallow it in the heart of every Virginian. From its
+ruined chancel that "singular excellent" Christian and man, good Master
+Hunt, was once wont, in far gone times, to preach the gospel of peace to
+those stern old colonists, who in full armour, and ever prepared for
+Indian interruptions, listened with devout attention. There in the front
+pew, which stood nearest the chancel, had sat John Smith, whose sturdy
+nature and strong practical sense were alone sufficient to repel the
+invasion of heathen savages, and provide for the wants of a famishing
+colony. Yet, with all the sternness and rigour of his character, his
+heart was subdued by the power of religion, as he bowed in meek
+submission to its precepts, and relied with humble confidence upon its
+promises. The pure light of Heaven was reflected even from that strong
+iron heart. At that altar had once knelt a dusky but graceful form, the
+queenly daughter of a noble king; and, her savage nature enlightened by
+the rays of the Sun of righteousness, she had there received upon her
+royal brow the sacred sign of her Redeemer's cross. And many a dark eye
+was bedewed with tears, and many a strong heart was bowed in prayer, as
+the stout old colonists stood around, and saw the baptismal rite which
+sealed the profession and the faith of the brave, the beautiful, the
+generous Pocahontas.
+
+But while this old ruin thus suggests many an association with the olden
+time, there is nothing left to tell the antiquary of the condition and
+appearance of Jamestown, the first capital of Virginia. The island, as
+the narrow neck of land on which the town was built is still erroneously
+called, may yet be seen; but not a vestige of the simple splendour, with
+which colonial pride delighted to adorn it, remains to tell the story of
+its glory or destruction. And yet, to the eye and the heart of the
+colonist, this little town was a delight: for here were assembled the
+Governor and his council, who, with mimic pride, emulated the grandeur
+and the pageant of Whitehall. Here, too, were the burgesses congregated
+at the call of the Governor, who, with their stately wives and blooming
+daughters, contributed to the delight of the metropolitan society. Here,
+too, was the principal mart, where the planters shipped their tobacco
+for the English market, and received from home those articles of
+manufacture and those rarer delicacies which the colony was as yet
+unable to supply. And here, too, they received news from Europe, which
+served the old planters and prurient young statesmen with topics of
+conversation until the next arrival; while the young folks gazed with
+wonder and delight at the ship, its crew and passengers, who had
+actually been in that great old England of which they had heard their
+fathers talk so much.
+
+The town, like an old-fashioned sermon, was naturally divided into two
+parts. The first, which lay along the river, was chiefly devoted to
+commercial purposes--the principal resort of drunken seamen, and those
+land harpies who prey upon them for their own subsistence. Here were
+located those miserable tippling-houses, which the Assembly had so long
+and so vainly attempted to suppress. Here were the busy forwarding
+houses, with their dark counting-rooms, their sallow clerks, and their
+bills of lading. Here the shrewd merchant and the bluff sea-captain
+talked loudly and learnedly of the laws of trade, the restrictive policy
+of the navigation laws, and the growing importance of the commercial
+interests of the colony. And here was the immense warehouse, under the
+especial control of the government, with its hundreds of hogsheads of
+tobacco, all waiting patiently their turn for inspection; and the
+sweating negroes, tearing off the staves of the hogsheads to display the
+leaf to view, and then noisily hammering them together again, while the
+impatient inspector himself went the rounds and examined the wide spread
+plant, and adjudged its quality; proving at the same time his capacity
+as a connoisseur, by the enormous quid which he rolled pleasantly in his
+mouth.
+
+But it is the more fashionable part of the town, with which our story
+has to do; and here, indeed, even at this early day, wealth and taste
+had done much to adorn the place, and to add to the comfort of the
+inhabitants. At one end of the long avenue, which was known as Stuart
+street, in compliment to the royal family, was situated the palace of
+Sir William Berkeley. Out of his private means and the immense salary of
+his office, the governor had done much to beautify and adorn his
+grounds. A lawn, with its well shaven turf, stretched in front of the
+house for more than a hundred yards, traversed in various directions
+with white gravelled walks, laid out with much taste, and interspersed
+with large elms and poplars. In the centre of the lawn was a beautiful
+summer-house, over which the white jessamine and the honeysuckle,
+planted by Lady Frances' own hand, clambered in rich profusion. The
+house, itself, though if it still remained, it would seem rather quaint
+and old-fashioned, was still very creditable as a work of architecture.
+A long porch, or gallery, supported by simple Doric pillars, stretched
+from one end of it to the other, and gave an air of finish and beauty to
+the building. The house was built of brick, brought all the way from
+England, for although the colonists had engaged in the manufacture of
+brick to a certain extent, yet for many years after the time of which we
+write, they persisted in this extraordinary expense, in supplying the
+materials for their better class of buildings.
+
+At the other end of Stuart street was the state-house, erected in
+pursuance of an act, the preamble of which recites the disgrace of
+having laws enacted and judicial proceedings conducted in an ale-house.
+This building, like the palace, was surrounded by a green lawn,
+ornamented with trees and shrubbery, and enclosed by a handsome
+pale--midway the gate and the portico, on either side of the broad
+gravel walk, were two handsome houses, one of which was the residence of
+Sir Henry Chicherley, Vice-President of the Council, and afterwards
+deputy-governor upon the death of Governor Jeffreys. The other house was
+the residence of Thomas Ludwell, Secretary to the colony, and brother to
+Colonel Philip Ludwell, whose sturdy and unflinching loyalty during the
+rebellion, has preserved his name to our own times.
+
+The state-house, itself, was a large brick building, with two wings, the
+one occupied by the governor and his council, the other by the general
+court, composed indeed of the same persons as the council, but acting in
+a judicial capacity. The centre building was devoted to the House
+Burgesses exclusively, containing their hall, library, and apartments
+for different offices. The whole structure was surmounted by a queer
+looking steeple, resembling most one of those high, peaked hats, which
+Hogarth has placed on the head of Hudibras and his puritan compeers.
+
+Between the palace and the state-house, as we have said before, ran
+Stuart street, the thoroughfare of the little metropolis, well built up
+on either side with stores and the residences of the prominent citizens
+of the town. There was one peculiarity in the proprietors of these
+houses, which will sound strangely in the ears of their descendants.
+Accustomed to the generous hospitality of the present day, the reader
+may be surprised to learn that most of the citizens of old Jamestown
+entertained their guests from the country for a reasonable compensation;
+and so, when the gay cavalier from Stafford or Gloucester had passed a
+week among the gaieties or business of the metropolis,
+
+    He called for his horse and he asked for his way,
+    While the jolly old landlord cried "_Something_ to pay."
+
+But when we reflect that Jamestown was the general resort of persons
+from all sections of the colony, and that the tavern accommodations were
+but small, we need not be surprised at a state of things so different
+from the glad and gratuitous welcome of our own day.
+
+Such, briefly and imperfectly described, was old Jamestown, the first
+capital of Virginia, as it appeared in 1676, to the little party of
+travellers, whose fortunes we have been following, as they rode into
+Stuart street, late in the evening of the day on which they left Windsor
+Hall. The arrival, as is usual in little villages, caused quite a
+sensation. The little knot of idlers that gathered about the porch of
+the only regular inn, desisted from whittling the store box, in the
+demolishing of which they had been busily engaged--and looked up with
+an impertinent stare at the new comers. Mine host bustled about as the
+carriage drove up before the door, and his jolly red face grew redder by
+his vociferous calls for servants. In obedience to his high behest, the
+servants came--the hostler, an imported cockney, to examine the points
+of the horses committed to his care, and to measure his provender by
+their real worth; the pretty Scotch chambermaid to conduct the ladies to
+their respective rooms, and a brisk and dapper little French barber to
+attack the colonel vehemently with a clothes-brush, as though he had
+hostile designs upon the good man's coat.
+
+Bernard, in the meantime, having promised to come for Virginia, and
+escort her to the famous birth-night ball, rode slowly towards the
+palace; now and then casting a haughty glance around him on those worthy
+gossips, who followed his fine form with their admiring eyes, and
+whispered among themselves that "Some folks was certainly born to luck;
+for look ye, Gaffer, there is a young fribble, come from the Lord knows
+where, and brought into the colony to be put over the heads of many
+worthier; and for all he holds his head so high, and sneers so mighty
+handsome with his lip, who knows what the lad may be. The great folk aye
+make a warm nest for their own bastards, and smooth the outside of the
+blanket as softly as the in, while honester folks must e'en rough it in
+frieze and Duffield. But na'theless, I say nothing, neighbor."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+    "There was a sound of revelry by night--
+      And Belgium's capital had gathered then
+    Her beauty and her chivalry; and bright
+      The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men;
+    A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
+      Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
+    Soft eyes looked love to eyes that spoke again,
+      And all went merry as a marriage bell."
+                                      _Childe Harold._
+
+
+The ball at Sir William Berkeley's palace was of that character, which,
+in the fashionable world, is described as brilliant; and was long
+remembered by those who attended it, as the last scene of revelry that
+was ever known in Jamestown. The park or lawn which we have described
+was brilliantly illuminated with lamps and transparencies hung from the
+trees. The palace itself was a perfect blaze of light. The coaches of
+the cavaliers rolled in rapid succession around the circular path that
+led to the palace, and deposited their fair burdens, and then rolled
+rapidly away to await the breaking up of the ball. Young beaux, fairly
+glittering with gold embroidery, with their handsome doublets looped
+with the gayest ribbons, and their hair perfumed and oiled, and plaited
+at the sides in the most captivating love-knots; their cheeks
+beplastered with rouge, and their moustache carefully trimmed and
+brushed, passed gracefully to and fro, through the vast hall, and looked
+love to soft eyes that spake again. And those young eyes, how brightly
+did they beam, and how freshly did the young cheeks of their lovely
+owners blush, even above the rouge with which they were painted, as
+they met the admiring glance of some favored swain bent lovingly upon
+them! How graceful, too, the attitude which these fair maidens assumed,
+with their long trails sweeping and fairly carpetting the floor, or when
+held up by their tapering fingers, how proudly did they step, as they
+crossed the room to salute the stately and dignified, but now smiling
+Lady Frances Berkeley--and she the queenly centre of that vast throng,
+leaning upon the arm of her noble and venerable husband, with what grace
+and dignity she bowed her turbaned head in response to their
+salutations; and with what a majestic air of gratified vanity did she
+receive the courteous gratulations of the chivalrous cavaliers as they
+wished her many returns of the happy day, and hoped that the hours of
+her life would be marked by the lapse of diamond sands, while roses grew
+under her feet!
+
+Sir William Berkeley, of whose extraordinary character we know far more
+than of any of the earlier governors of Virginia, was now in the evening
+of his long and prosperous life. "For more than thirty years he had
+governed the most flourishing country the sun ever shone upon,"[25] and
+had won for himself golden opinions from all sorts of people. Happy for
+him, and happy for his fame, if he had passed away ere he had become
+"encompassed," as he himself expresses it, "with rebellion, like
+waters." To all he had endeared himself by his firmness of character and
+his suavity of manner. In 1659, he was called, by the spontaneous
+acclaim of the people of Virginia, to assume the high functions of the
+government, of which he had been deprived during the Protectorate, and,
+under his lead, Virginia was the first to throw off her allegiance to
+the Protector, and to declare herself the loyal realm of the banished
+Charles. Had William Berkeley died before the troublous scenes which now
+awaited him, and which have cast so dark a shadow upon his character,
+scarce any man in colonial history had left so pure a name, or been
+mourned by sincerer tears. Death is at last the seal of fame, and over
+the grave alone can we form a just estimate of human worth and human
+virtue.
+
+In person he was all that we delight to imagine in one who is truly
+great. Age itself had not bent his tall, majestic figure, which rose,
+like the form of the son of Kish, above all the people. His full black
+eye was clear and piercing, and yet was often softened by a benevolent
+expression. And this was the true nature of his heart, formed at once
+for softness and for rigour. His mouth, though frequently a pleasant
+smile played around it, expressed the inflexible firmness and decision
+of his character. No man to friends was more kind and gentle; no man to
+a foe was more relentless and vindictive. The only indication of
+approaching age was in the silver colour of his hair, which he did not
+conceal with the recently introduced periwig, and which, combed back to
+show to its full advantage his fine broad brow, fell in long silvery
+clusters over his shoulders.
+
+Around him were gathered the prominent statesmen of the colony, members
+of the Council and of the House of Burgesses, conversing on various
+subjects of political interest. Among those who chose this rational mode
+of entertainment was our old friend, Colonel Henry Temple, who met many
+an old colleague among the guests, and everywhere received the respect
+and attention which his sound sense, his sterling worth, and his former
+services so richly deserved.
+
+The Lady Frances, too, withdrawing her arm from that of her husband,
+engaged in elegant conversation with the elderly dames who sought her
+society; now conversing with easy dignity with the accomplished wives of
+the councillors; now, with high-bred refinement, overlooking the awkward
+blunders of some of the plainer matrons, whose husbands were in the
+Assembly; and now smiling good-humouredly at the old-fashioned vanity
+and assumed dignity of Mrs. Temple. The comparison of the present order
+of things with that to which she had been accustomed in her earlier
+days, formed, as usual, the chief theme of this good lady's discourse.
+But, to the attentive observer, the glance of pride with which from time
+to time she looked at her daughter, who, with graceful step and glowing
+cheek, was joining in the busy dance, plainly showed that, in some
+respects at least, Mrs. Temple had to acknowledge that the bright
+present had even eclipsed her favourite past.
+
+Yes, to the gay sound of music, amid the bright butterflies of fashion,
+who flew heartlessly through the mazes of the graceful dance, Virginia
+Temple moved--with them, but not of them. She had not forgotten
+Hansford, but she had forgotten self, and, determined to please her
+mother, she had sought to banish from her heart, for the time, the
+sorrow which was still there. She had come to the ball with Bernard, and
+he, seeing well the effort she had made, bent all the powers of his
+gifted mind to interest her thoughts, and beguile them from the
+absorbing subject of her grief. She attributed his efforts to a generous
+nature, and thanked him in her heart for thus devoting himself to her
+pleasure. She had attempted to return his kindness by an assumed
+cheerfulness, which gradually became real and natural, for shadows rest
+not long upon a young heart. They fly from the blooming garden of youth,
+and settle themselves amid the gloom and ruins of hoary age. And never
+had Alfred Bernard thought the fair girl more lovely, as, with just
+enough of pensive melancholy to soften and not to sadden her heart, she
+moved among the gay and thoughtless throng around her.
+
+The room next to the ball-room was appropriated to such of the guests as
+chose to engage in cards and dice; for in this, as in many other
+respects, the colony attempted to imitate the vices of the mother
+country. It is true the habit of gaming was not so recklessly
+extravagant as that which disgraced the corrupt court of Charles the
+Second, and yet the old planters were sufficiently bold in their risks,
+and many hundreds of pounds of tobacco often hung upon the turn of the
+dice-box or the pip[26] of a card. Seated around the old fashioned
+card-table of walnut, were sundry groups of those honest burgesses, who
+were ready enough in the discharge of their political functions in the
+state-house, but after the adjournment were fully prepared for all kinds
+of fun. Some were playing at gleek, and, to the uninitiated,
+incomprehensible was the jargon in which the players indulged. "Who'll
+buy the stock?" cries the dealer. "I bid five"--"and I ten"--"and I
+fifty." Vie, revie, surrevie, capote, double capote, were the terms that
+rang through the room, as the excited gamesters, with anxious faces,
+sorted and examined their cards. At another table was primero, or
+thirty-one, a game very much resembling the more modern game of
+vingt-et-un; and here, too, loud oaths of "damn the luck," escaped the
+lips of the betters, as, with twenty-two in their hands, they drew a
+ten, and burst with a pip too many. Others were moderate in their risks,
+rattled the dice at tra-trap, and playing for only an angel a game,
+smoked their pipes sociably together, and talked of the various measures
+before the Assembly.
+
+Thus the first hours of the evening passed rapidly away, when suddenly
+the sound of the rebecks[27] ceased in the ball-room, the gaming was
+arrested in an instant, and at the loud cry of hall-a-hall,[28] the
+whole company repaired to the long, broad porch, crowding and pushing
+each other, the unwary cavaliers treading on the long trains of the fair
+ladies, and receiving a well-merited frown for their carelessness. The
+object of this general rush was to see the masque, which was to be
+represented in the porch, illuminated and prepared for the purpose. At
+one end of the porch a stage was erected, with all the simple machinery
+which the ingenuity of the youth of Jamestown could devise, to aid in
+the representation--the whole concealed for the present from the view of
+the spectators by a green baize curtain.
+
+The object of the masque, imitated from the celebrated court masques of
+the seventeenth century, which reflected so much honour on rare Ben
+Jonson, and aided in establishing the early fame of John Milton, was to
+celebrate under a simple allegory the glories of the Restoration. Alfred
+Bernard, who had witnessed such a representation in England, first
+suggested the idea of thus honouring the birth-night of the Lady
+Frances, and the suggestion was eagerly taken hold of by the loyal young
+men of the little colonial capital, who rejoiced in any exhibition that
+might even faintly resemble the revels to which their loyal ancestors,
+before the revolution, were so ardently devoted.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[25] This is his own language.
+
+[26] Pip signified the spot on a card.
+
+[27] Fiddles.
+
+[28] The cry of the herald for silence at the beginning of the masque.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+    "Then help with your call
+    For a hall, a hall!
+    Stand up by the wall,
+    Both good-men and tall,
+    We are one man's all!"
+          _The Gipsey Metamorphosea._
+
+
+With the hope that a description of the sports and pastimes of their
+ancestors may meet with like favour from the reader, we subjoin the
+following account of this little masque which was prepared for the
+happy occasion by Alfred Bernard, aided by the grave chaplain, Arthur
+Hutchinson, and performed by some of the gay gallants and blooming
+damsels of old Jamestown. We flatly disclaim in the outset any
+participation in the resentment or contempt which was felt by these
+loyal Virginians towards the puritan patriots of the revolution.
+
+The curtain rises and discovers the genius of True Liberty, robed in
+white, with a wreath of myrtle around her brow; holding in her right
+hand a sceptre entwined with myrtle, as the emblem of peace, and in her
+left a sprig of evergreen, to represent the fabled Moly[29] of Ulysses.
+As she advances to slow and solemn music, she kneels at an altar clothed
+with black velvet, and raising her eyes to heaven, she exclaims:--
+
+    "How long, oh Heaven! shall power with impious hand
+    In cruel bondage bind proud Britain's land,
+    Or heresy in fair Religion's robe
+    Usurp her empire and control the globe!--
+    Hypocrisy in true Religion's name
+    Has filled the land of Britain long with shame,
+    And Freedom, captive, languishes in chains,
+    While with her sceptre, Superstition reigns.
+      Restore, oh Heaven! the reign of peace and love,
+    And let thy wisdom to thy people prove
+    That Freedom too is governed by her rules,--
+    No toy for children, and no game for fools;--
+    Freed from restraint the erring star would fly
+    Darkling, and guideless, through the untravelled sky--
+    The stubborn soil would still refuse to yield
+    The whitening harvest of the fertile field;
+    The wanton winds, when loosened from their caves,
+    Would drive the bark uncertain through the waves
+    This magnet lost, the sea, the air, the world,
+    To wild destruction would be swiftly hurled!
+    And say, just Heaven, oh say, is feeble man
+    Alone exempt from thy harmonious plan?
+    Shall he alone, in dusky darkness grope,
+    Free from restraint, and free, alas! from hope?
+    Slave to his passions, his unbridled will,
+    Slave to himself, and yet a freeman still?
+    No! teach him in his pride to own that he
+    Can only in obedience be free--
+    That even he can only safely move,
+    When true to loyalty, and true to love."
+
+As she speaks, a bright star appears at the farther end of the stage,
+and ascending slowly, at length stands over the altar, where she kneels.
+Extending her arm towards the star, she rises and cries in triumph:--
+
+    "I hail the sign, pure as the starry gem,
+    Which rested o'er the babe of Bethlehem--
+    My prayer is heard, and Heaven's sublime decree
+    Will rend our chains, and Britain shall be free!"
+
+Then enters the embodiment of Puritanism, represented in the peculiar
+dress of the Roundheads--with peaked hat, a quaint black doublet and
+cloak, rigidly plain, and cut in the straight fashion of the sect; black
+Flemish breeches, and grey hose; huge square-toed shoes, tied with
+coarse leather thongs; and around the waist a buff leather belt, in
+which he wears a sword. He comes in singing, as he walks, one of the
+Puritan versions, or rather perversions of the Psalms, which have so
+grossly marred the exquisite beauty of the original, and of which one
+stanza will suffice the reader:--
+
+    "Arise, oh Lord, save me, my God,
+    For thou my foes hast stroke,
+    All on the cheek-bone, and the teeth
+    Of wicked men hast broke."[30]
+
+Then standing at some distance from the altar, he rolls up his eyes,
+till nothing but the whites can be seen, and is exercised in prayer.
+With a smile of bitter contempt the genius of True Liberty proceeds:--
+
+    "See where he comes, with visage long and grim,
+    Whining with nasal twang his impious hymn!
+    See where he stands, nor bows the suppliant knee,
+    He apes the Publican, but acts the Pharisee--
+    Snatching the sword of just Jehovah's wrath,
+    And damning all who leave _his_ thorny path.
+      Now by this wand which Hermes, with a smile,
+    Gave to Ulysses in the Circean isle,
+    I will again exert the power divine,
+    And change to Britons these disgusting swine."
+
+She waves the sprig of Moly over the head of the Puritan three or four
+times, who, sensible of the force of the charm, cries out:--
+
+    "Hah! what is this! strange feelings fill my heart;
+    Avaunt thee, tempter! I defy thy art--
+    Up, Israel! hasten to your tents, and smite
+    These sons of Belial, and th' Amalekite,--
+    Philistia is upon us with Goliah,
+    Come, call the roll from twelfth of Nehemiah,[31]
+    Gird up your loins and buckle on your sword,
+    Fight with your prayers, your powder, and the word.
+    How, General 'Faint-not,'[32] has your spirit sunk?
+    Let not God's soldier yield unto a Monk."[33]
+
+Then, as the charm increases, he continues in a feebler voice:
+
+    "Curse on the tempter's art! that heathenish Moly
+    Has in an instant changed my nature wholly;
+    The past, with all its triumphs, is a trance,
+    My legs, once taught to kneel, incline to dance,
+    My voice, which to some holy psalm belongs,
+    Is twisting round into these carnal songs.
+    Alas! I'm lost! New thoughts my bosom swell;
+    Habakuk, Barebones, Cromwell, fare ye well.
+    Break up conventicles, I do insist,
+    Sing the doxology and be dismissed."
+
+As he finishes the last line, the heavy roll of thunder is heard, and
+suddenly the doors of a dungeon in the background fly open, from which
+emerges the impersonation of Christmas, followed by the Queen of May.
+Christmas is represented by a jolly, round-bellied, red-nosed, laughing
+old fellow, dressed in pure white. His hair is thickly powdered, and his
+face red with rouge. In his right hand he holds a huge mince-pie, which
+ever and anon he gnaws with exquisite humour, and in his left is a bowl
+of generous wassail, from which he drinks long and deeply. His brows are
+twined with misletoe and ivy, woven together in a fantastic wreath, and
+to his hair and different parts of his dress are attached long pendants
+of glass, to represent icicles. As he advances to the right of the
+stage, there descends from the awning above an immense number of small
+fragments of white paper, substitutes for snow-flakes, with which that
+part of the floor is soon completely covered.
+
+The Queen of May takes her position on the left. She is dressed in a
+robe of pure white, festooned with flowers, with a garland of white
+roses twined with evergreen upon her brow. In her hand is held the
+May-pole, adorned with ribbons of white, and blue, and red, alternately
+wrapped around it, and surmounted with a wreath of various flowers. As
+she assumes her place, showers of roses descend from above, envelope her
+in their bloom, and shed a fresh fragrance around the room.
+
+The Genius of Liberty points out the approaching figures to the Puritan,
+and exclaims:
+
+    "Welcome, ye happy children of the earth,
+    Who strew life's weary way with guileless mirth!
+    Thus Joy should ever herald in the morn
+    On which the Saviour of the world was born,
+    And thus with rapture should we ever bring
+    Fresh flowers to twine around the brow of Spring.
+    Think not, stern mortal, God delights to scan,
+    With fiendish joy, the miseries of man;
+    Think not the groans that rend your bosom here
+    Are music to Jehovah's listening ear.
+    Formed by His power, the children of His love,
+    Man's happiness delights the Sire above;
+    While the light mirth which from his spirit springs
+    Ascends like incense to the King of kings."
+
+Christmas, yawning and stretching himself, then roars out in a merry,
+lusty voice:
+
+    "My spirit rejoices to hear merry voices,
+      With a prospect of breaking my fast,
+    For with such a lean platter, these days they call latter[34]
+      Were very near being my last.
+
+    "In that cursed conventicle, as chill as an icicle,
+      I caught a bad cold in my head,
+    And some impudent vassal stole all of my wassail,
+      And left me small beer in its stead.
+
+    "Of all that is royal and all that is loyal
+      They made a nice mess of mince-meat.
+    With their guns and gunpowder, and their prayers that are louder,
+      But the de'il a mince-pie did I eat.
+
+    "No fat sirloin carving, I scarce kept from starving,
+      And my bones have become almost bare,
+    As if I were the season of the gunpowder treason,
+      To be hallowed with fasting and prayer.
+
+    "If they fancy pulse diet, like the Jews they may try it,
+      Though I think it is fit but to die on.
+    But may the Emanuel long keep this new Daniel
+      From the den of the brave British Lion.
+
+    "In the juice of the barley I'll drink to King Charley,
+      The bright star of royalty risen,
+    While merry maids laughing and honest men quaffing
+      Shall welcome old Christmas from prison."
+
+As he thunders out the last stave of his song, the Queen of May steps
+forward, and sings the following welcome to Spring:
+
+    "Come with blooming cheek, Aurora,
+      Leading on the merry morn;
+    Come with rosy chaplets, Flora,
+      See, the baby Spring is born.
+
+    "Smile and sing each living creature,
+      Britons, join me in the strain;
+    Lo! the Spring is come to Nature,
+      Come to Albion's land again.
+
+    "Winter's chains of icy iron
+      Melt before the smile of Spring;
+    Cares that Albion's land environ
+      Fade before our rising king.
+
+    "Crown his brow with freshest flowers,
+      Weave the chaplet fair as May,
+    While the sands with golden hours
+      Speed his happy life away.
+
+    "Crown his brow with leaves of laurel,
+      Twined with myrtle's branch of peace--
+    A hero in fair Britain's quarrel,
+      A lover when her sorrows cease.
+
+    "Blessings on our royal master,
+      Till in death he lays him down,
+    Free from care and from disaster,
+      To assume a heavenly crown."
+
+As she concludes her lay, she places the May-pole in the centre of the
+stage, and a happy throng of gay young swains and damsels enter and
+commence the main dance around it. The Puritan watches them at first
+with a wild gaze, in which horror is mingled with something of
+admiration. Gradually his stern features relax into a grim smile, and at
+last, unable longer to restrain his feelings, he bursts forth in a most
+immoderate and carnal laugh. His feet at first keep time to the gay
+music; he then begins to shuffle them grotesquely on the floor, and
+finally, overcome by the wild spirit of contagion, he unites in the
+dance to the sound of the merry rebecks. While the dance continues, he
+shakes off the straight-laced puritan dress which he had assumed, and
+tossing the peaked hat high in the air, appears, amid the deafening
+shouts of the delighted auditory, in the front of the stage in the rich
+costume of the English court, and with a royal diadem upon his brow, the
+mimic impersonation of Charles the Second.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[29] The intelligent reader, familiar with the Odyssey, need not to be
+reminded that with this wand of Moly, which Mercury presented to
+Ulysses, the Grecian hero was enabled to restore his unhappy companions,
+who, by the magic of the goddess Circe, had been transformed into swine.
+
+[30] A true copy from the records.
+
+[31] "Cromwell," says an old writer, "hath beat up his drums clean
+through the Old Testament. You may learn the genealogy of our Saviour by
+the names of his regiment. The muster-master has no other list than the
+first chapter of St. Matthew." If the Puritan sergeant had lost this
+roll, Nehemiah XII. would serve him instead.
+
+[32] The actual name of one of the Puritans.
+
+[33] General Monk, the restorer of royalty.
+
+[34] The Puritans believed the period of the revolution to be the latter
+days spoken of in prophecy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+     "I charge you, oh women! for the love you bear to men, to like as
+     much of this play as please you; and I charge you, oh men! for the
+     love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering, none of
+     you hate them,) that between you and the women the play may
+     please."
+                                                     _As you Like It._
+
+     "There is the devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man;
+     a tun of man is thy companion."
+                                                           _Henry IV._
+
+
+The good-natured guests at the Governor's awarded all due, and more than
+due merit to the masque which was prepared for their entertainment.
+Alfred Bernard became at once the hero of the evening, and many a bright
+eye glanced towards him, and envied the fair Virginia the exclusive
+attention which he paid to her. Some young cavaliers there were, whose
+envy carried them so far, that they sneered at the composition of the
+young poet; declared the speeches of Liberty to be prosy and tiresome;
+and that the song of Christmas was coarse, rugged, and devoid of wit;
+nay, they laughed at the unnatural transformation of the grim-visaged
+Puritan into the royal Charles, and referred sarcastically to the
+pretentious pedantry of the young author, in introducing the threadbare
+story of Ulysses and the Moly into a modern production--and at the
+inconsistent jumble of ancient mythology and pure Christianity. Bernard
+heard them not, and if he had, he would have scorned their strictures,
+instead of resenting them. But he was too much engrossed in conversation
+with Virginia to heed either the good-natured applause of his friends,
+or the peevish jealousy of his young rivals. Indeed, the loyalty of the
+piece amply atoned for all its imperfections, and the old colonists
+smiled and nodded their heads, delighted at the wholesome tone of
+sentiment which characterized the whole production.
+
+The character of Christmas was well sustained by Richard Presley,[35] a
+member of the House of Burgesses, whose jolly good humour, as broad
+sometimes as his portly stomach, fitted him in an eminent degree for the
+part. He was indeed one of those merry old wags, who, in an illustrated
+edition of Milton, might have appeared in L'Allegro, to represent the
+idea of "Laughter holding both his sides."
+
+Seeing Sir William Berkeley and Colonel Temple engaged in earnest
+conversation, in one corner of the room, the old burgess bustled, or
+rather waddled up to them, and remaining quiet just long enough to hear
+the nature of their conversation chimed in, with,
+
+"Talking about Bacon, Governor? Why he is only imitating old St. Albans,
+and trying to establish a _novum organum_ in Virginia. By God, it seems
+to me that Sir Nicholas exhausted the whole of his _mediocria firma_
+policy, and left none of it to his kinsmen. Do you not know what he
+meant by that motto, Governor?"
+
+"No;" said Sir William, smiling blandly.
+
+"Well, I'll tell you, and add another wrinkle to your face. Mediocria
+firma, when applied to Bacon, means nothing more nor less than sound
+middlings. But I tell you what, this young mad-cap, Bacon, will have to
+adopt the motto of another namesake of his, and ancestor, perhaps, for
+friars aye regarded their tithes more favourably than their vows of
+virtue--and were fathers in the church as well by the first as the
+second birth."
+
+"What ancestor do you allude to now, Dick?" asked the Governor.
+
+"Why, old Friar Bacon, who lamented that time was, time is, and time
+will be. And to my mind, when time shall cease with our young squealing
+porker here, we will e'en substitute hemp in its stead."
+
+"Thou art a mad wag, Presley," said the Governor, laughing, "and seem to
+have sharpened thy wit by strapping it on the Bible containing the whole
+Bacon genealogy. Come, Temple, let me introduce to your most favourable
+acquaintance, Major Richard Presley, the Falstaff of Virginia, with as
+big a paunch, and if not as merry a wit, at least as great a love for
+sack--aye, Presley?"
+
+"Yes, but indifferent honest, Governor, which I fear my great prototype
+was not," replied the old wag, as he shook hands with Colonel Temple.
+
+"Well, I believe you can be trusted, Dick," said the Governor, kindly,
+"and I may yet give you a regiment of foot to quell this modern young
+Hotspur of Virginia."
+
+"Aye, that would be rare fun," said Presley, with a merry laugh, "but
+look ye, I must take care to attack him in as favourable circumstances
+as the true Falstaff did, or 'sblood he might embowell me."
+
+"I would like to own the tobacco that would be raised over your grave
+then, Dick," said the Governor, laughing, "but never fear but I will
+supply you with a young Prince Hal, as merry, as wise, and as brave."
+
+"Which is he, then? for I can't tell your true prince by instinct yet."
+
+"There he stands talking to Miss Virginia Temple. You know him, Colonel
+Temple, and I trust that you have not found that my partiality has
+overrated his real merit."
+
+"By no means," returned Temple; "I never saw a young man with whom I was
+more pleased. He is at once so ingenuous and frank, and so intelligent
+and just in his views and opinions on all subjects--who is he, Sir
+William? One would judge, from his whole mien and appearance, that noble
+blood ran in his veins."
+
+"I believe not," replied Berkeley, "or if so, as old Presley would say,
+he was hatched in the nest where some noble eagle went a birding. I am
+indebted to my brother, Lord Berkeley, for both my chaplain and my
+private secretary. Good Parson Hutchinson seems to have been the
+guardian of Bernard in his youth, but what may be the real relation
+between them I am unable to say."
+
+"Perhaps, like Major Presley's old Friar Bacon," said Temple, "the good
+parson may have been guilty of some indiscretion in his youth, for which
+he would now atone by his kindness to the offspring of his early crime."
+
+"Hardly so," replied the Governor, "or he would probably acknowledge him
+openly as his son, without all this mystery. I have several times hinted
+at the subject to Mr. Hutchinson, but it seems to produce so much real
+sorrow, that I have never pushed my inquiries farther. All that I know
+is what I tell you, that my brother, in whose parish this Mr. Hutchinson
+long officiated as rector, recommended him to me--and the young man, who
+has been thoroughly educated by his patron, or guardian, by the same
+recommendation, has been made my private secretary."
+
+"He is surely worthy to fill some higher post," said Temple.
+
+"And he will not want my aid in building up his fortunes," returned
+Berkeley; "but they have only been in the colony about six months as
+yet--and the young man has entwined himself about my heart like a son.
+My own bed, alas! is barren, as you know, and it seems that a kind
+providence had sent this young man here as a substitute for the
+offspring which has been denied to me. See Temple," he added, in a
+whisper, "with what admiring eyes he regards your fair daughter. And if
+an old man may judge of such matters, it is with maiden modesty
+returned."
+
+"I think that you are at fault," said Temple, with a sigh; "my
+daughter's affections are entirely disengaged at present."
+
+"Well, time will develope which of us is right. It would be a source of
+pride and pleasure, Harry, if I could live to see a union between this,
+my adopted boy, and the daughter of my early friend," said the old
+Governor, as a tear glistened in his eye; "but come, Presley, the
+dancing has ceased for a time," he added aloud, "favour the company with
+a song."
+
+"Oh, damn it, Governor," replied the old burgess, "my songs won't suit a
+lady's ear. They are intended for the rougher sex."
+
+"Well, never fear," said the Governor, "I will check you if I find you
+are overleaping the bounds of propriety."
+
+"Very well, here goes then--a loyal ditty that I heard in old England,
+about five years agone, while I was there on a visit. Proclaim order,
+and join in the chorus as many as please."
+
+And with a loud, clear, merry voice, the old burgess gave vent to the
+following, which he sung to the tune of the "Old and Young Courtier;" an
+air which has survived even to our own times, though adapted to the more
+modernized words, and somewhat altered measure of the "Old English
+Gentleman:"--
+
+    "Young Charley is a merry prince; he's come unto his own,
+    And long and merrily may he fill his martyred father's throne;
+    With merry laughter may he drown old Nolly's whining groan,
+    And when he dies bequeath his crown to royal flesh and bone.
+              Like a merry King of England,
+              And England's merry King.
+
+    "With bumpers full, to royal Charles, come fill the thirsty glasses,
+    The pride of every loyal heart, the idol of the masses;
+    Yet in the path of virtue fair, old Joseph far surpasses,
+    The merry prince, whose sparkling eye delights in winsome lasses.
+              Like a merry King of England,
+              And England's merry King.
+
+    "For Joseph from dame Potiphar, as holy men assert,
+    Leaving his garment in her hand, did naked fly unhurt;
+    But Charley, like an honest lad, will not a friend desert,
+    And so he still remains behind, nor leaves his only shirt.
+              Like a merry King of England,
+              And England's merry King.
+
+    "Then here's to bonny Charley, he is a prince divine,
+    He hates a Puritan as much as Jews detest a swine;
+    But, faith, he loves a shade too much his mistresses and wine,
+    Which makes me fear that he will not supply the royal line,
+              With a merry King of England,
+              And England's merry King."
+
+The singer paused, and loud and rapturous was the applause which he
+received, until, putting up his hand in a deprecating manner, silence
+was again restored, and with an elaborate _impromptu_, which it had
+taken him about two hours that morning to spin from his old brain, he
+turned to Berkeley, and burst forth again.
+
+    "Nor let this mirror of the king by us remain unsung,
+    To whom the hopes of Englishmen in parlous times have clung:
+    Let Berkeley's praises still be heard from every loyal tongue,
+    While Bacon and his hoggish herd be cured, and then be hung.
+              Like young rebels of the King,
+              And the King's young rebels."
+
+Various were the comments drawn forth by the last volunteer stanza of
+the old loyalist. With lowering looks, some of the guests conversed
+apart in whispers, for there were a good many in the Assembly, who,
+though not entirely approving the conduct of Bacon, were favourably
+disposed to his cause. Sir William Berkeley himself restrained his
+mirth out of respect for a venerable old man, who stood near him, and
+towards whom many eyes were turned in pity. This was old Nathaniel
+Bacon, the uncle of the young insurgent, and himself a member of the
+council. There were dark rumours afloat, that this old man had advised
+his nephew to break his parole and fly from Jamestown; but, although
+suspicion had attached to him, it could never be confirmed. Even those
+who credited the rumour rather respected the feelings of a near
+relative, in thus taking the part of his kinsman, than censured his
+conduct as savouring of rebellion.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[35] This jovial old colonist is referred to in the T. M. account of the
+Rebellion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+    "And first she pitched her voice to sing,
+    Then glanced her dark eye on the king,
+    And then around the silent ring,
+    And laughed, and blushed, and oft did say
+    Her pretty oath, by yea and nay,
+    She could not, would not, durst not play."
+                                        _Marmion._
+
+
+"How did _you_ like Major Presley's song?" said Bernard to Virginia, as
+he leaned gracefully over her chair, and played carelessly with the
+young girl's fan.
+
+"Frankly, Mr. Bernard," she replied, "not at all. There was only one
+thing which seemed to me appropriate in the exhibition."
+
+"And what was that?"
+
+"The coarse language and sentiment of the song comported well with the
+singer."
+
+"Oh, really, Miss Temple," returned Bernard, "you are too harsh in your
+criticism. It is not fair to reduce the habits and manners of others to
+your own purer standard of excellence, any more than to censure the
+scanty dress of your friend Mamalis, which, however picturesque in
+itself, would scarcely become the person of one of these fair ladies
+here."
+
+"And yet," said Virginia, blushing crimson at the allusion, "there can
+be no other standard by which I at least can be governed, than that
+established by my own taste and judgment. You merely asked me _my_
+opinion of Major Presley's performance; others, it is true, may differ
+with me, but their decisions can scarcely affect my own."
+
+"The fact that there is such a wide variance in the taste of
+individuals," argued Bernard, "should, however, make us cautious of
+condemning that which may be sustained by the judgment of so many. Did
+you know, by the way, Miss Virginia, that 'habit' and 'custom' are
+essentially the same words as 'habit' and 'costume.' This fact--for the
+history of a nation may almost be read in the history of its
+language--should convince you that the manners and customs of a people
+are as changeable as the fashions of their dress."
+
+"I grant you," said Virginia, "that the mere manners of a people may
+change in many respects; but true taste, when founded on a true
+appreciation of right, can never change."
+
+"Why, yes it can," replied her companion, who delighted in bringing the
+young girl out, as he said, and plying her with specious sophisms.
+"Beauty, certainly, is an absolute and not a relative emotion, and yet
+what is more changeable than a taste in beauty. The Chinese bard will
+write a sonnet on the oblique eyes, flat nose and club feet of his
+saffron Amaryllis, while he would revolt with horror from the fair
+features of a British lassie. Old Uncle Giles will tell you that the
+negro of his Congo coast paints his Obi devil white, in order to inspire
+terror in the hearts of the wayward little Eboes. The wild Indians of
+Virginia dye their cheeks--"
+
+"Nay, there you will not find so great a difference between us," said
+Virginia, interrupting him, as she pointed to the plastered rouge on
+Bernard's cheek. "But really, Mr. Bernard, you can scarcely be serious
+in an opinion so learnedly argued. You must acknowledge that right and
+wrong are absolute terms, and that a sense of them is inherent in our
+nature."
+
+"Well then, seriously, my dear Miss Temple," replied Bernard, "I do not
+see so much objection to the gay society of England, which is but a
+reflection from the mirror of the court of Charles the Second."
+
+"When the mirror is stained or imperfect, Mr. Bernard, the image that it
+reflects must be distorted too. That society which breaks down the
+barriers that a refined sentiment has erected between the sexes, can
+never develope in its highest perfection the purity of the human heart."
+
+"Well, I give up the argument," said Bernard, "for where sentiment is
+alone concerned, there is no more powerful advocate than woman. But, my
+dear Miss Temple, you who have such a pure and correct taste on this
+subject, can surely illustrate your own idea by an example. Will you not
+sing? I know you can--your mother told me so."
+
+"You must excuse me, Mr. Bernard; I would willingly oblige you, but I
+fear I could not trust my voice among so many strangers."
+
+"You mistake your own powers," urged Bernard. "There is nothing easier,
+believe me, after the first few notes of the voice, which sound
+strangely enough I confess, than for any one to recover self-possession
+entirely. I well remember the first time I attempted to speak before a
+large audience. When I arose to my feet, my knees trembled, and my lips
+actually felt heavy as lead. It seemed as though every drop of blood in
+my system rushed back to my heart. The vast crowd before me was nothing
+but an immense assemblage of eyes, all bent with the most burning power
+upon me; and when at length I opened my mouth, and first heard the tones
+of my own voice, it sounded strange and foreign to my ear. It seemed as
+though it was somebody else, myself and yet not myself, who was
+speaking; and my utterance was so choked and discordant, that I would
+have given worlds if I could draw back the words that escaped me. But
+after a half dozen sentences, I became perfectly composed and
+self-possessed, and cared no more for the gaping crowd than for the idle
+wind which I heed not. So it will be with your singing, but rest assured
+that the discord of your voice will only exist in your own fancy. Now
+will you oblige me?"
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Bernard, I cannot say that you have offered much
+inducement," said Virginia, laughing at the young man's description of
+his forensic debut. "Nothing but the strongest sense of duty would impel
+me to pass through such an ordeal as that which you have described.
+Seriously you must excuse me. I cannot sing."
+
+"Oh yes you can, my dear," said her mother, who was standing near, and
+heard the latter part of the conversation. "What's the use of being so
+affected about it! You know you can sing, my dear--and I like to see
+young people obliging."
+
+"That's right, Mrs. Temple," said Bernard, "help me to urge my petition;
+I don't think Miss Virginia can be disobedient, even if it were in her
+power to be disobliging."
+
+"The fact is, Mr. Bernard," said the old lady, "that the young people of
+the present day require so much persuading, that its hardly worth the
+trouble to get them to do any thing."
+
+"Well, mother, if you put it on that ground," said Virginia, "I suppose
+I must waive my objections and oblige you."
+
+So saying, she rose, and taking Bernard's arm, she seated herself at
+Lady Frances' splendid harp, which was sent from England as a present by
+her brother-in-law, Lord Berkeley. Drawing off her white gloves, and
+running her little tapering fingers over the strings, Virginia played a
+melancholy symphony, which accorded well with the sad words that came
+more sadly on the ear through the medium of her plaintive voice:--
+
+    "Fondly they loved, and her trusting heart
+      With the hopes of the future bounded,
+    Till the trumpet of Freedom condemned them to part,
+      And the knell of their happiness sounded.
+
+    "But his is a churl's and a traitor's choice,
+      Who, deaf to the call of duty,
+    Would linger, allured by a syren's voice,
+      On the Circean island of beauty.
+
+    "His country called! he had heard the sound,
+      And kissed the pale cheek of the maiden,
+    Then staunched with his blood his country's wound,
+      And ascended in glory to Aidenn.
+
+    "The shout of victory lulled him to sleep
+      The slumber that knows no dreaming,
+    But a martyr's reward he will proudly reap,
+      In the grateful tears of Freemen.
+
+    "And long shall the maidens remember her love,
+      And heroes shall dwell on his story;
+    She died in her constancy like the lone dove,
+      But he like an eagle in glory.
+
+    "Oh let the dark cypress mourn over her grave,
+      And light rest the green turf upon her;
+    While over his ashes the laurel shall wave,
+      For he sleeps in the proud bed of honour."
+
+The reader need not be told that this simple little ballad derived new
+beauty from the feeling with which Virginia sang it. The remote
+connection of its story with her own love imparted additional sadness to
+her sweet voice, and as she dwelt on the last line, her eyes filled with
+tears and her voice trembled. Bernard marked the effect which had been
+produced, and a thrill of jealousy shot through his heart at seeing this
+new evidence of the young girl's constancy.
+
+But while he better understood her feelings than others around her, all
+admired the plaintive manner in which she had rendered the sentiment of
+the song, and attributed her emotion to her own refined appreciation and
+taste. Many were the compliments which were paid to the fair young
+minstrel by old and young; by simpering beaux and generous maidens. Sir
+William Berkeley, himself, gallantly kissed her cheek, and said that
+Lady Frances might well be jealous of so fair a rival; and added, that
+if he were only young again, Windsor Hall might be called upon to yield
+its fair inmate to adorn the palace of the Governor of Virginia.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+    "Give me more love or more disdain,
+      The torrid or the frozen zone;
+    Bring equal ease unto my pain,
+      The temperate affords me none;
+    Either extreme of love or hate,
+    Is sweeter than a calm estate."--_Thomas Carew._
+
+
+While Virginia thus received the meed of merited applause at the hands
+of all who were truly generous, there were some then, as there are many
+now, in whose narrow and sterile hearts the success of another is ever a
+sufficient incentive to envy and depreciation. Among these was a young
+lady, who had hitherto been the especial favourite of Alfred Bernard,
+and to whom his attentions had been unremittingly paid. This young lady,
+Miss Matilda Bray, the daughter of one of the councillors, vented her
+spleen and jealousy in terms to the following purport, in a conversation
+with the amiable and accomplished Caroline Ballard.
+
+"Did you ever, Caroline, see any thing so forward as that Miss Temple?"
+
+"I am under a different impression," replied her companion. "I was
+touched by the diffidence and modesty of her demeanor."
+
+"I don't know what you call diffidence and modesty; screeching here at
+the top of her voice and drowning every body's conversation. Do you
+think, for instance, that you or I would presume to sing in as large a
+company as this--with every body gazing at us like a show."
+
+"No, my dear Matilda, I don't think that we would. First, because no one
+would be mad enough to ask us; and, secondly, because if we did
+presume, every body would be stopping their ears, instead of admiring us
+with their eyes."
+
+"Speak for yourself," retorted Matilda. "I still hold to my opinion,
+that it was impertinent to be stopping other people's enjoyment to
+listen to her."
+
+"On the contrary, I thought it a most welcome interruption, and I
+believe that most of the guests, as well as Sir William Berkeley,
+himself, concurred with me in opinion."
+
+"Well, I never saw any body so spiteful as you've grown lately,
+Caroline. There's no standing you. I suppose you will say next that this
+country girl is beautiful too, with her cotton head and blue china
+eyes."
+
+"I am a country girl myself, Matilda," returned Caroline, "and as for
+the beauty of Miss Temple, whatever I may think, I believe that our
+friend, Mr. Bernard, is of that opinion."
+
+"Oh, you needn't think, with your provoking laugh," said Miss Bray,
+"that I care a fig for Mr. Bernard's attention to her."
+
+"I didn't say so."
+
+"No, but you thought so, and you know you did; and what's more, it's too
+bad that you should take such a delight in provoking me. I believe it's
+all jealousy at last."
+
+"Jealousy, my dear Matilda," said her companion, "is a jaundiced jade,
+that thinks every object is of its own yellow colour. But see, the dance
+is about to commence again, and here comes my partner. You must excuse
+me." And with a smile of conscious beauty, Caroline Ballard gave her
+hand to the handsome young gallant who approached her.
+
+Bernard and Virginia, too, rose from their seats, but, to the surprise
+of Matilda Bray, they did not take their places in the dance, but walked
+towards the door. Bernard saw how his old flame was writhing with
+jealousy, and as he passed her he said, maliciously,
+
+"Good evening, Miss Matilda; I hope you are enjoying the ball."
+
+"Oh, thank you, exceedingly," said Miss Bray, patting her foot
+hysterically on the floor, and darting from her fine black eyes an angry
+glance, which gave the lie to her words.
+
+Leaving her to digest her spleen at her leisure, the handsome pair
+passed out of the ball-room and into the lawn. It was already thronged
+with merry, laughing young people, who, wearied with dancing, were
+promenading through the gravelled walks, or sitting on the rural
+benches, arranged under the spreading trees.
+
+"Oh, this is really refreshing," said the young girl, as she smoothed
+back her tresses from her brow, to enjoy the delicious river breeze.
+"Those rooms were very oppressive."
+
+"I scarcely found them so," said Bernard, gallantly; "for when the mind
+is agreeably occupied we soon learn to forget any inconvenience to which
+the body may be subjected. But I knew you would enjoy a walk through
+this fine lawn."
+
+"Oh, indeed I do; and truly, Mr. Bernard," said the ingenuous girl, "I
+have much to thank you for. Nearly a stranger in Jamestown, you have
+made my time pass happily away, though I fear you have deprived yourself
+of the society of others far more agreeable."
+
+"My dear Miss Temple, I will not disguise from you, even to retain your
+good opinion of my generosity, the fact that my attention has not been
+so disinterested as you suppose."
+
+"I thank you, sir," said Virginia, "for the compliment; but I am afraid
+that I have not been so agreeable, in return for your civility, as I
+should. You were witness to a scene, Mr. Bernard, which would make it
+useless to deny that I have much reason to be sad; and it makes me more
+unhappy to think that I may affect others by my gloom."
+
+"I know to what you allude," replied Bernard, "and believe me, fair
+girl, sweeter to me is this sorrow in your young heart, than all the
+gaudy glitter of those vain children of fashion whom we have left. But,
+alas! I myself have much cause to be sad--the future looms darkly before
+me, and I see but little left in life to make it long desirable."
+
+"Oh, say not so," said Virginia, moved by the air of deep melancholy
+which Bernard had assumed, but mistaking its cause. "You are young yet,
+and the future should be bright. You have talents, acquirements,
+everything to ensure success; and the patronage and counsel of Sir
+William Berkeley will guide you in the path to honourable distinction.
+Fear not, my friend, but trust hopefully in the future."
+
+"There is one thing, alas!" said Bernard, in the same melancholy tone,
+"without which success itself would scarcely be desirable."
+
+"And what is that?" said the young girl, artlessly. "Believe me, you
+will always find in me, Mr. Bernard, a warm friend, and a willing if not
+an able counsellor."
+
+"But this is not all," cried Bernard, passionately. "Does not your own
+heart tell you that there must be something more than friendship to
+satisfy the longings of a true heart? Oh, Virginia--yes, permit me to
+call you by a name now doubly dear to me, as the home of my adoption and
+as the object of my earnest love. Dearest Virginia, sweet though it be
+to the heart of a lonely orphan, drifting like a sailless vessel in this
+rugged world, to have such a friend, yet sweeter far would it be to live
+in the sunlight of your love."
+
+"Mr. Bernard!" exclaimed Virginia, with unfeigned surprise.
+
+"Nay, dearest, do you, can you wonder at this revelation? I had striven,
+but in vain, to conceal a hope which I knew was too daring. Oh, do not
+by a word destroy the faint ray which has struggled so bravely in my
+heart."
+
+"Mr. Bernard," said Virginia, as she withdrew her arm from his, "I can
+no longer permit this. If your feelings be such as you profess, and as I
+believe they are--for I know your nature to be honorable--I regret that
+I can only respect a sentiment which I can never return."
+
+"Oh, say not thus, my own Virginia, just as a new life begins to dawn
+upon me. At least be not so hasty in a sentence which seals my fate
+forever."
+
+"I am not too hasty," replied Virginia. "But I would think myself
+unworthy of the love you have expressed, if I held out hopes which can
+never be realized. You know my position is a peculiar one. My hand but
+not my heart is disengaged. Nor could you respect the love of a woman
+who could so soon forget one with whom she had promised to unite her
+destiny through life. I have spoken thus freely, Mr. Bernard, because I
+think it due to your feelings, and because I am assured that what I say
+is entrusted to an honourable man."
+
+"Indeed, my dear Miss Temple, if such you can only be to me," said her
+wily lover, "I do respect from my heart your constancy to your first
+love. That unwavering devotion to another, whom I esteem, because he is
+loved by you, only makes you more worthy to be won. May I not still hope
+that time may supply the niche, made vacant in your heart, by another
+whose whole life shall be devoted to the one object of making you
+happy?"
+
+"Mr. Bernard, candour compels me to say no, my friend; there are vows
+which even time, with its destroying hand can never erase, and which are
+rendered stronger and more sacred by the very circumstances which
+prevent their accomplishment. Fate, my friend, may interpose her stern
+decree and forever separate me from the presence of Mr. Hansford, but
+my heart is still unchangeably his. Ha! what is that?" she added, with a
+faint scream, as from the little summer-house, which we have before
+described, there came a deep, prolonged groan.
+
+As she spoke, and as Bernard laid his hand upon his sword to avenge
+himself upon the intruder, a dark figure issued from the door of the
+arbor, and stood before them. The young man stood appalled as he
+recognized by the uncertain light of a neighbouring lamp, the dark,
+swarthy features of Master Hutchinson, the chaplain of the Governor.
+
+"Put up your sword, young man," said the preacher, gravely; "they who
+use the sword shall perish by the sword."
+
+"In the devil's name," cried Bernard, forgetful of the presence of
+Virginia, "how came you here?"
+
+"Not to act the spy at least," said Hutchinson, "such is not my
+character. Suffice it to say, that I came as you did, to enjoy this
+fresh air--and sought the quiet of this arbour to be free from the
+intrusion of others. I have lived too long to care for the frivolities
+which I have heard, and your secret is safe in my breast--a repository
+of many a darker confidence than that." With these words the bent form
+of the melancholy preacher passed out of their sight.
+
+"A singular man," said Bernard, in a troubled voice, "but entirely
+innocent in his conduct. An abstracted book-worm, he moves through the
+world like a stranger in it. Will you return now?"
+
+"Thank you," said Virginia, "most willingly--for I confess my nerves are
+a little unstrung by the fright I received. And now, my friend, pardon
+me for referring to what has passed, but you will still be my friend,
+won't you?"
+
+"Oh, certainly," said Bernard, in an abstracted manner. "I wonder," he
+muttered "what he could have meant by that hideous groan?"
+
+And sadly and silently the rejected lover and his unhappy companion
+returned to the heartless throng, who still lit up the palace with their
+hollow smiles.
+
+Alike the joyous dance, the light mirth, and the splendid entertainment
+passed unheeded by Virginia, as she sat silently abstracted, and
+returned indifferent answers to the questions which were asked her. And
+Bernard, the gay and fascinating Bernard, wandered through the crowd,
+like a troubled spectre, and ever and anon muttered to himself, "I
+wonder what he could have meant by that hideous groan?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+    "His heart has not half uttered itself yet,
+    And much remains to do as well as they.
+    The heart is sometime ere it finds its focus,
+    And when it does with the whole light of nature
+    Strained through it to a hair's breadth, it but burns
+    The things beneath it which it lights to death."
+                                                    _Festus._
+
+
+And now the ball is over. Mothers wait impatiently for their fair
+daughters, who are having those many last words so delightful to them,
+and so provoking to those who await their departure. Carriages again
+drive to the door, and receive their laughing, bright-eyed burdens, and
+then roll away through the green lawn, while the lamps throw their
+broad, dark shadows on the grass. Gay young cavaliers, who have come
+from a distance to the ball, exchange their slippers for their heavy
+riding-boots and spurs, and mount their pawing and impatient steeds.
+Sober-sided old statesmen walk away arm-in-arm, and discuss earnestly
+the business of the morrow. The gamesters and dicers depart, some with
+cheerful smiles, chuckling over their gains, and others with empty
+pockets, complaining how early the party had broken up, and proposing a
+renewal of the game the next night at the Blue Chamber at the Garter
+Inn. Old Presley has evidently, to use his own phrase, "got his load,"
+and waddling away to his quarters, he winks his eye mischievously at the
+lamps, which, under the multiplying power of his optics, have become
+more in number than the stars. Thus the guests all pass away, and the
+lights which flit for a few moments from casement to casement in the
+palace, are one by one extinguished, and all is dark, save where one
+faint candle gleams through an upper window and betrays the watchfulness
+of the old chaplain.
+
+And who is he, with his dark, melancholy eyes, which tell so plainly of
+the chastened heart--he who seeming so gentle and kind to all, reserves
+his sternness for himself alone--and who, living in love with all God's
+creatures, seems to hate with bitterness his own nature? It was not then
+as it is sometimes now, that every man's antecedents were inquired into
+and known, and that the young coxcomb, who disgraces the name that he
+bears and the lineage of which he boasts, is awarded a higher station in
+society than the self-sustaining and worthy son of toil, who builds his
+reputation on the firmer foundation of substantial worth. Every ship
+brought new emigrants from England, who had come to share the fate and
+to develope the destiny of the new colony, and who immediately assumed
+the position in society to which their own merit entitled them. And thus
+it was, that when Arthur Hutchinson came to Virginia, no one asked,
+though many wondered, what had blighted his heart, and cast so dark a
+shadow on his path. There was one man in the colony, and one alone, who
+had known him before--and yet Alfred Bernard, with whom he had come to
+Virginia, seemed to know little more of his history and his character
+than those to whom he was an entire stranger.
+
+Arthur Hutchinson was in appearance about fifty years of age. His long
+hair, which had once been black as the raven's wing, but was now thickly
+sprinkled with grey, fell profusely over his stooping shoulders. There
+was that, too, in the deep furrows on his broad brow, and in the
+expression of his pale thin lips which told that time and sorrow had
+laid their heavy hands upon him. As has been before remarked, by the
+recommendation of Lord Berkeley, which had great weight with his
+brother, Hutchinson had been installed as Chaplain to Sir William, and
+through his influence with the vestry, presented to the church in
+Jamestown. Although, with his own private resources, the scanty
+provision of sixteen thousand pounds of tobacco per annum, (rated at
+about eighty pounds sterling,) was ample for his comfortable support,
+yet good Master Hutchinson had found it very convenient to accept Sir
+William Berkeley's invitation to make his home at the palace. Here,
+surrounded by his books, which he regarded more as cheerful companions,
+than as grim instructors, he passed his life rather in inoffensive
+meditation than in active usefulness. The sad and quiet reserve of his
+manners, which seemed to spring from the memory of some past sorrow,
+that while it had ceased to give pain, was still having its silent
+effect upon its victim, made him the object of pity to all around him.
+The fervid eloquence and earnestness of his sermons carried conviction
+to the minds of the doubting, arrested the attention of the thoughtless
+and the wayward, and administered the balm of consolation to the
+afflicted child of sorrow. The mysterious influence which he exerted
+over the proud spirit of Alfred Bernard, even by one reproving glance
+from those big, black, melancholy eyes, struck all who knew them with
+astonishment. He took but little interest in the political condition of
+the colony, or in the state of society around him, and while, by this
+estrangement, and his secluded life, he made but few warm friends, he
+made no enemies. The good people of the parish were content to let the
+parson pursue his own quiet life undisturbed, and he lost none of their
+respect, while he gained much of their regard by his refusal to make the
+influence of the church the weapon of political warfare.
+
+Hutchinson, who had retired to his room some time before the guests had
+separated, was quietly reading from one of the old fathers, when his
+attention was arrested by a low tap at the door, which he at once
+recognized as Bernard's. At the intimation to come in, the young man
+entered, and throwing himself into a chair, he rested his face upon his
+hand, and sighed deeply.
+
+"Alfred," said the preacher, after watching him for a moment in silence,
+"I am glad you have come. I have somewhat to say to you."
+
+"Well, sir, I will hear you patiently. What would you say?"
+
+"I would warn you against letting a young girl divert you from the
+pursuit of higher objects than are to be attained by love."
+
+"How, sir?" exclaimed Bernard, with surprise.
+
+"Alfred Bernard, look at me. Read in this pale withered visage, these
+sunken cheeks, this bent form, and this broken heart, the brief summary
+of a history which cannot yet be fully known. You have seen and known
+that I am not as other men--that I walk through the world a stranger
+here, and that my home is in the dark dungeon of my own bitter thoughts.
+Would you know what has thus severed the chain which bound me to the
+world? Would you know what it is that has blighted a heart which might
+have borne rich fruit, and turned it to ashes? Would you know what is
+the vulture, too cruel to destroy, which feeds upon this doomed form?"
+
+"In God's name, Mr. Hutchinson, why do you speak thus wildly?" said
+Bernard, for he had never before heard such language fall from the lips
+of the reserved and quiet preacher. "I know that you have had your
+sorrows, for the foot-prints of sorrow are indeed on you, but I have
+often admired the stoical philosophy with which you have borne the
+burden of care."
+
+"Stoical philosophy!" exclaimed the preacher, pressing his hand to his
+heart. "The name that the world has given to the fire which burns here,
+and whose flame is never seen. Think you the pain is less, because all
+the heat is concentrated in the heart, not fanned into a flame by the
+breath of words?"
+
+"Well, call it what you will," said Bernard, "and suffer as you will,
+but why reserve until to-night a revelation which you have so long
+refused to make?"
+
+"Simply because to-night I have seen and heard that which induces me to
+warn you from the course that you are pursuing. Young man, beware how
+you seek your happiness in a woman's smile."
+
+"You must excuse me, my old friend," said Bernard, smiling, "if I remind
+you of an old adage which teaches us that a burnt child dreads the fire.
+If trees were sentient, would you have them to fly from the generous
+rain of heaven, by which they grow, and live, and bloom, because,
+forsooth, one had been blasted by the lightning of the storm?"
+
+Hutchinson only replied with a melancholy shake of the head, and the two
+men gazed at each other in silence. Bernard, with all his sagacity and
+knowledge of human nature, in vain attempted to read the secret thoughts
+of his old guardian, whose dark eyes, lit up for a moment with
+excitement, had now subsided into the pensive melancholy which we have
+more than once remarked. The affectionate solicitude with which he had
+ever treated him, prevented Bernard from being offended at his freedom,
+and yet, with a vexed heart, he vainly strove to solve a mystery which
+thus seemed to surround Virginia and himself, who, until a few days
+before, had been entire strangers to each other.
+
+"Alfred Bernard," said the old man at length, with his sweet gentle
+voice, "do you remember your father? You are very like him."
+
+"How can you ask me such a question, when you yourself have told me so
+often that I never saw him."
+
+"True, I had forgotten," returned Hutchinson, with a sigh, "but your
+mother you remember?"
+
+"Oh yes," said the young man, with a tear starting in his eye, "I can
+never forget her sad, pensive countenance. I have been a wild, bad man,
+Mr. Hutchinson, but often in my darkest hours, the memory of my mother
+would come over me, as though her spirit, like a dove, was descending
+from her place in heaven to watch over her boy. Alas! I feel that if I
+had followed the precepts which she taught me, I would now be a better
+and a happier man."
+
+No heart is formed entirely hard; there are moments and memories which
+melt the most obdurate heart, as the wand of the prophet smote water
+from the rock. And Alfred Bernard, with all his cold scepticism and
+selfish nature, was for a moment sincerely repentant.
+
+"I have often thought, Mr. Hutchinson," he continued, "that if it had
+pleased heaven to give me some near relative on earth, around whom my
+heart could delight to cling, I would have been a better man. Some kind
+brother who could aid and sympathize with me in my struggle with the
+world, or some gentle sister, in whose love I could confide, and to
+whose sweet society I might repair from the bitter trials of this rugged
+life; if these had been vouchsafed me, my heart would have expanded into
+more sympathy with my race than it can ever now feel."
+
+Hutchinson smiled sadly, and replied--
+
+"It has been my object in life, Alfred Bernard, to supply the place of
+those nearer and dearer objects of affection which have been denied you.
+I hope in this I have not been unsuccessful."
+
+"I am aware, Mr. Hutchinson," said Bernard, bitterly, "that to you I am
+indebted for my education and support. I hope I have ever manifested a
+becoming sense of gratitude, and I only regret that in this alone am I
+able to repay you."
+
+"And do you think that I wished to remind you of your dependence,
+Alfred? Oh, no--you owe me nothing. I have discharged towards you a
+solemn, a sacred duty, which you had a right to claim. I took you, a
+little homeless orphan, and sought to cultivate your mind and train your
+heart. In the first you have done more than justice to my tuition and my
+care. I am proud of the plant that I have reared. But how have you
+repaid me? You have imbibed sentiments and opinions abhorrent to all
+just and moral men. You have slighted my advice, and at times have even
+threatened the adviser."
+
+"If you refer to the difference in our faith," said Bernard, "you must
+remember that it was from your teachings that I derived the warrant to
+follow the dictates of my conscience and my reason. If they have led me
+into error, you must charge it upon these monitors which God has given
+me. You cannot censure me."
+
+"I confess I am to blame," said the good old man, with a sigh. "But who
+could have thought, that when, with my hard earnings, I had saved enough
+to send you to France, in order to give you a more extensive
+acquaintance with the world you were about to enter--who would have
+thought that it would result in your imbibing such errors as these! Oh,
+my son, what freedom of conscience is there in a faith like papacy,
+which binds your reason to the will of another? And what purity can
+there be in a religion which you dare not avow?"
+
+"Naaman bowed in the house of Rimmon," returned Bernard, carelessly,
+"and if the prophet forgave him for thus following the customs of his
+nation, that he might retain a profitable and dignified position, I
+surely may be forgiven, under a milder dispensation, for suppressing my
+real sentiments in order to secure office and preferment."
+
+"Alas!" murmured Hutchinson, bitterly. "Well, it is a sentiment worthy
+of Edward's son. But go, my poor boy, proud in your reason, which but
+leads you astray--wresting scripture in order to justify hypocrisy, and
+profaning religion with vice. You shall not yet want my prayers that you
+may be redeemed from error."
+
+"Well, good night," said Bernard, as he opened the door. "But do me the
+justice to say, that though I may be deceitful, I can never be
+ungrateful, nor can I forget your kindness to a desolate orphan." And so
+saying, he closed the door, and left the old chaplain to the solitude of
+his own stricken heart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+    "Oh, tiger's heart, wrapt in a woman's hide."
+                                            _Henry VI._
+
+
+Brightly shone the sun through the window of the Garter Inn, at which
+Virginia Temple sat on the morning after the ball at Sir William
+Berkeley's palace. Freed from the restraints of society, she gave her
+caged thoughts their freedom, and they flew with delight to Hansford.
+She reproved herself for the appearance of gaiety which she had assumed,
+while he was in so much danger; and she inwardly resolved that, not even
+to please her mother, would she be guilty again of such hypocrisy. She
+felt that she owed it to Hansford, to herself, and to others, to act
+thus. To Hansford, because his long and passionate love, and his
+unstained name, deserved a sacrifice of the world and its joys to him.
+To herself, because sad as were her reflections on the past, and fearful
+as were her apprehensions for the future, there was still a melancholy
+pleasure in dwelling on the memory of her love--far sweeter to her
+wounded heart than all the giddy gaiety of the world around her. And to
+others, because, but for her assumed cheerfulness, the feelings of
+Alfred Bernard, her generous and gifted friend, would have been spared
+the sore trial to which they had been subjected the night before. She
+was determined that another noble soul should not make shipwreck of its
+happiness, by anchoring its hopes on her own broken heart.
+
+Such were her thoughts, as she leaned her head upon her hand and gazed
+out of the window at the throng of people who were hurrying toward the
+state-house. For this was to be a great day in legislation. The Indian
+Bill was to be up in committee, and the discussion would be an able
+one, in which the most prominent members of the Assembly were to take
+part. She had seen the Governor's carriage, with its gold and trappings,
+the Berkeley coat-of-arms, and its six richly caparisoned white horses,
+roll splendidly by, with an escort of guards, by which Sir William was
+on public occasions always attended. She had seen the Burgesses, with
+their reports, their petitions and their bills, some conversing
+carelessly and merrily as they passed, and others with thoughtful
+countenance bent upon the ground, cogitating on some favourite scheme
+for extricating the colony from its dangers. She had seen Alfred Bernard
+pass on his favourite horse, and he had turned his eyes to the window
+and gracefully saluted her; but in that brief moment she saw that the
+scenes through which he had passed the night before were still in his
+memory, and had made a deep impression on his heart. On the plea of a
+sick head-ache, she had declined to go with her mother to the "House,"
+and the good old lady had gone alone with her husband, deploring, as she
+went, the little interest which the young people of the present day took
+in the politics and prosperity of their country.
+
+While thus silently absorbed in her own thoughts, the attention of
+Virginia Temple was arrested by the door of her room being opened, and
+on looking up, she saw before her the tall figure of a strange, wild
+looking woman, whom she had never seen before. This woman, despite the
+warmth of the weather, was wrapped in a coarse red shawl, which gave a
+striking and picturesque effect to her singular appearance. Her features
+were prominent and regular, and the face might have been considered
+handsome if it were not for the exceeding coarseness of her swarthy
+skin. Her jet-black hair, not even confined by a comb, was secured by a
+black riband behind, and passing over the right shoulder, fell in a
+heavy mass over her bosom. Her figure was tall and straight as an
+Indian's, and her bare brawny arms, which escaped from under her shawl,
+gave indications of great physical strength; while there was that in the
+expression of her fierce black eye, and her finely formed mouth, which
+showed that there was no mere woman's heart in that masculine form.
+
+The wild appearance and attire of the woman inspired Virginia with
+terror at first, but she suppressed the scream which rose to her lips,
+and in an agitated voice, she asked,
+
+"What would you have with me, madam?"
+
+"What are you frightened at, girl," said the woman in a shrill, coarse
+voice, "don't you see that I am a woman?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am," said Virginia, trembling, "I am not frightened, ma'am."
+
+"You are frightened--I see you are," returned her strange guest.--"But
+if you fear, you are not worthy to be the wife of a brave man--come,
+deny nothing--I can read you like a book--and easier, for it is but
+little that I know from books, except my Bible."
+
+"Are you a gipsey, ma'am?" said Virginia, softly, for she had heard her
+father speak of that singular race of vagrants, and the person and
+language of the stranger corresponded with the idea which she had formed
+of them.
+
+"A gipsey! no, I am a Virginian--and a brave man's wife, as you would
+be--but that prejudice and fear keep you still in Egyptian bondage. The
+time has come for woman to act her part in the world--and for you,
+Virginia Temple, to act yours."
+
+"But what would you have me to do?" asked Virginia, surprised at the
+knowledge which the stranger seemed to possess of her history.
+
+"Do!" shrieked the woman, "your duty--that which every human creature,
+man or woman, is bound before high heaven to do. Aid in the great work
+which God this day calls upon his Israel to do--to redeem his people
+from captivity and from the hand of those who smite us."
+
+"My good woman," said Virginia, who now began to understand the
+character of the strange intruder, "it is not for me, may I add, it is
+not for our sex to mingle in contests like the present. We can but
+humbly pray that He who controls the affairs of this world, may direct
+in virtue and in wisdom, the hearts of both rulers and people."
+
+"And why should we only pray," said the woman sternly, "when did Heaven
+ever answer prayer, except when our own actions carried the prayer into
+effect. Have you not learned, have you not known, hath it not been told
+you from the foundation of the world, that faith without works was
+dead."
+
+"But there is no part which a woman can consistently take in such a
+contest as the present, even should she so far forget her true duties as
+to wish to engage in it."
+
+"Girl, have you read your bible, or are you one of those children of the
+scarlet woman of Babylon, to whom the word of God is a closed book--to
+whom the waters from the fountain of truth can only come through the
+polluted lips of priests--as unclean birds feed their offspring. Do you
+not know that it was a woman, even Rahab, who saved the spies sent out
+from Shittem to view the land of promise? Do you not know that Miriam
+joined with the hosts of Israel in the triumph of their deliverance from
+the hand of Pharaoh? Do you not know that Deborah, the wife of Lapidoth,
+judged Israel, and delivered Jacob from the hands of Jabin, king of
+Canaan, and Sisera the captain of his host--and did not Jael, the wife
+of Heber the Kenite, rescue Israel from the hands of Sisera? Surely she
+fastened the nail in a sure place, and the wife of Sisera, tarried long
+ere his chariot should come--and shall we in these latter days of Israel
+be less bold than they? Tell me not of prayers, Virginia Temple, cowards
+alone pray blindly for assistance. It is the will of God that the brave
+should be often under Heaven, the answerers of their own prayers."
+
+"And pray tell me," said Virginia, struck with the wild, biblical
+eloquence of the Puritan woman, "why you have thus come to me among so
+many of the damsels of Virginia, to urge me to engage in this
+enterprise."
+
+"Because I was sent. Because one of the captains of our host has sought
+the hand of Virginia Temple. Ah, blush, maiden, for the blush of shame
+well becomes one who has deserted her lover, because he has laid aside
+every weight, and pressed forward to the prize of his high calling. Yet
+a little while, and the brave men of Virginia will be here to show the
+malignant Berkeley, that the servant is not greater than his lord--that
+they who reared up this temple of his authority, can rase it to the
+ground and bury him in its ruins. I come from Thomas Hansford, to ask
+that you will under my guidance meet him where I shall appoint
+to-night."
+
+"This is most strange conduct on his part," said Virginia, flushing with
+indignation, "nor will I believe him guilty of it. Why did he entrust a
+message like this to you instead of writing?"
+
+"A warrior writes with his sword and in blood," replied the woman.
+"Think you that they who wander in the wilderness, are provided with pen
+or ink to write soft words of love to silly maidens? But he foresaw that
+you would refuse, and he gave me a token--I fear a couplet from a carnal
+song."
+
+"What is it?" cried Virginia, anxiously.
+
+    "'I had not loved thee, dear, so much,
+    Loved I not honour more,'"
+
+said the woman, in a low voice. "Thus the words run in my memory."
+
+"And it is indeed a true token," said Virginia, "but once for all, I
+cannot consent to this singular request."
+
+"Decide not in haste, lest you repent at leisure," returned the woman,
+"I will come to-night at ten o'clock to receive your final answer. And
+regret not, Virginia Temple, that your fate is thus linked with a brave
+man. The babe unborn will yet bless the rising in this country--and
+children shall rise up and call us blest.[36] And, oh! as you would
+prove worthy of him who loves you, abide not thou like Reuben among the
+sheep-folds to hear the bleating of the flocks, and you will yet live to
+rejoice that you have turned a willing ear to the words and the counsel
+of Sarah Drummond."
+
+There was a pause of some moments, during which Virginia was wrapt in
+her own reflections concerning the singular message of Hansford,
+rendered even more singular by the character and appearance of the
+messenger. Suddenly she was startled from her reverie by the blast of a
+trumpet, and the distant trampling of horses' hoofs. Sarah Drummond also
+started at the sound, but not from the same cause, for she heard in that
+sound the blast of defiance--the trumpet of freedom, as its champions
+advanced to the charge.
+
+"They come, they come," she said, in her wild, shrill voice; "my Lord,
+my Lord, the chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof--I go, like
+Miriam of old, to prophecy in their cause, and to swell their triumph.
+Farewell. Remember, at ten o'clock to-night I return for your final
+answer."
+
+With these words she burst from the room, and Virginia soon seen her
+tall form, with hasty strides, moving toward the place from which the
+sound proceeded.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[36] This was her very language during the rebellion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+            "Men, high minded men,
+    With powers as far above dull brutes endued,
+            In forest, brake or den,
+    As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude;
+            Men, who their duties know,
+    But know their rights, and knowing dare maintain,
+            These constitute a state."
+                                _Sir William Jones._
+
+
+And nearer, and nearer, came the sound, and the cloud of dust which
+already rose in the street, announced their near approach. And then,
+Virginia saw emerging from that cloud a proud figure, mounted on a
+splendid grey charger, which pranced and champed his bit, as though
+proud of the noble burden which he bore. And well he might be proud, for
+that young gallant rider was Nathaniel Bacon, a man who has left his
+name upon his country's history, despite the efforts to defame him, as
+the very embodiment of the spirit of freedom. And he looked every inch a
+hero, as with kingly mien and gallant bearing he rode through that
+crowded street, the great centre of attraction to all.
+
+Beside him and around him were those, his friends and his companions,
+who had sworn to share his success, or to perish in the attempt.
+
+There was the burley Richard Lawrence, not yet bent under the weight of
+his growing years. There was Carver, the bold, intrepid and faithful
+Carver, whose fidelity yet lives historically in his rough, home-brewed
+answer to the Governor, that "if he served the devil he would be true to
+his trust." There too was the young and graceful form of one whose name
+has been honoured by history, and cherished by his descendants--whose
+rising glory has indeed been eclipsed by others of his name more
+successful, but not more worthy of success--nor can that long, pure
+cavalier lineage boast a nobler ancestor than the high-souled,
+chivalrous, and devoted Giles Bland. There too were Ingram, and
+Walklate, and Wilford, and Farloe, and Cheesman, and a host of others,
+whom time would fail us to mention, and yet, each one of whom, a pioneer
+in freedom's cause, deserves to be freshly remembered. And there too,
+and the heart of Virginia Temple beat loud and quick as she beheld him,
+was the gallant Hansford, whom she loved so well; and as she gazed upon
+his noble figure, now foremost in rebellion, the old love came back
+gushing into her heart, and she half forgave his grievous sin, and loved
+him as before.
+
+These all passed on, and the well-regulated band of four hundred
+foot-soldiers, all armed and disciplined for action, followed on, ready
+and anxious to obey their noble leader, even unto death. Among these
+were many, who, through their lives had been known as loyalists, who
+upheld the councils of the colony in their long resistance to the
+usurpation of the Protector, and who hailed the restoration of their
+king as a personal triumph to each and all. There too were those who had
+admired Cromwell, and sustained his government, and some few grey-headed
+veterans who even remembered to have fought under the banner of John
+Hampden--Cavaliers and Roundheads, Episcopalians and Dissenters; old
+men, who had heretofore passed through life regardless of the forms of
+government under which they lived; and young men, whose ardent hearts
+burned high with the spirit of liberty--all these discordant elements
+had been united in the alembic of freedom, and hand-in-hand, and
+heart-in-heart, were preparing for the struggle. And Virginia Temple
+thought, as she gazed from the window upon their manly forms, that after
+all, rebellion was not confined to the ignoble and the base.
+
+On, on, still on, and now they have reached the gate which is the grand
+entrance to the state-house square. The crowd of eager citizens throng
+after them, and with the fickle sympathy of the mob unite in loud shouts
+of "Long live Bacon, the Champion of Freedom." And now they are drawn up
+in bristling column before the hall of the assembly, while the windows
+are crowded thick with the pale, anxious faces of the astounded
+burgesses. But see! the leaders dismount, and their horses are given in
+charge to certain of the soldiers. Conspicuous among them all is
+Nathaniel Bacon, from his proud and imperial bearing as he walks with
+impatient steps up and down the line, and reads their resolution in the
+faces of the men.
+
+"What will he do!" is whispered from the white and agitated lips of the
+trembling burgesses.
+
+"This comes of the faithless conduct of Berkeley," says one.
+
+"Yes; I always said that Bacon should have his commission," says
+another.
+
+"It is downright murder to deny him the right to save the colony from
+the savages," says a third.
+
+"And we must suffer for the offences of a despotic old dotard," said the
+first speaker.
+
+"Say you so, masters," cried out old Presley, wedging his huge form
+between two of his brethren at the window--and all his loyalty of the
+preceding night having oozed out at his fingers' ends, like Bob Acres'
+courage, at the first approach of danger--"say you so; then, by God, it
+is my advice to let him put out the fire of his own raising."
+
+But see there! Bacon and his staff are conferring together. It will soon
+be known what is his determination. It is already read in his fierce and
+angry countenance as he draws his sword half way from its scabbard, and
+frowns upon the milder councils of Hansford and Bland. Presently a
+servant of one of the members comes in with pale, affrighted looks, and
+whispers to his master. He has overheard the words of Bacon, which
+attended that ominous gesture.
+
+"I will bear a little while. But when you see my sword drawn from my
+scabbard, thus, let that be the signal for attack. Then strike for
+freedom, for truth, and for justice."
+
+The burgesses look in wild alarm at each other. What is to be done? It
+were vain to resist. They are unarmed. The rebels more than quadruple
+Governor, Council, and Assembly. Let those suffer who have incurred the
+wrath of freemen. Let the lightning fall upon him who has called it
+down. For ourselves, let us make peace.
+
+In a moment a white handkerchief suspended on the usher's rod streams
+from the window, an emblem of peace, an advocate for mercy, and with one
+accordant shout, which rings through the halls of the state-house, the
+burgesses declare that he shall have his commission.
+
+Bacon sees the emblem. He hears the shout. His dark eye flashes with
+delight as he hails this bloodless victory over the most formidable
+department of the government. The executive dare not hold out against
+the will of the Assembly. But the victory is not yet consummated.
+
+Suddenly from the lips of the excited soldiery comes a wild cry, and
+following the direction of their eyes, he sees Sir William Berkeley
+standing at the open window of the Council Chamber. Yes, there stands
+the proud old man, with form erect and noble--his face somewhat paler,
+and his eagle eye somewhat brighter than usual. But these are the only
+signs he gives of emotion, as he looks down upon that hostile crowd,
+with a smile of bitter scorn encircling his lip. He quails not, he
+blenches not, before that angry foe. His pulse beats calmly and
+regularly, for it is under the control of the brave great heart, which
+knows no fear. And there he stands, all calm and silent, like a firm-set
+rock that defies in its iron strength the fury of the storm that beats
+against it.
+
+Yet Berkeley is in danger. He is the object, the sole object, of the
+bitter hate of that incensed and indignant soldiery. He has pledged and
+he has broken his word to them, and when did broken faith ever fail to
+arouse the indignation of Virginians? He has denied them the right to
+protect, by organized force, their homes and their firesides from the
+midnight attacks of ruthless savages. He has advised the passage of laws
+restricting their commerce, and reducing the value of their staples. He
+has urged the erection of forts throughout the colony, armed with a
+regular soldiery, supported in their idleness by the industry of
+Virginians, and whose sole object is to check the kindling flame of
+liberty among the people. He has sanctioned and encouraged the exercise
+of power by Parliament to tax an unrepresented colony. He has advised
+and upheld His Majesty in depriving the original patentees of immense
+tracts of land, and lavishing them as princely donations upon fawning
+favourites. He has refused to represent to the king the many grievances
+of the colony, and to urge their redress, and, although thus showing
+himself to be a tyrant over a free people, he has dared to urge, through
+his servile commissioners, his appointment as Governor for life.
+
+Such were some of the many causes of discontent among the colonists
+which had so inflamed them against Sir William Berkeley. And now, there
+he stood before them, calm in spite of their menaces, unrelenting in
+spite of their remonstrances. Without a word of command, and with one
+accord a hundred fusils were pointed at the breast of the brave old
+Governor. It was a moment of intense excitement--of terrible suspense.
+But even then his courage and his self-reliance forsook him not. Tearing
+open his vest, and presenting himself at the window more fully to their
+attack, he cried out in a firm voice:
+
+"Aye, shoot! 'Fore God, a fair mark. Infatuated men, bury your wrongs
+here in my heart. I dare you to do your worst!"
+
+"Down with your guns!" shouted Bacon, angrily. But it needed not the
+order of their leader to cause them to drop their weapons in an instant.
+The calm smile which still played around the countenance of the old
+Governor, the unblenching glance of that eagle eye, and the unawed
+manner in which he dared them to revenge, all had their effect in
+allaying the resentment of the soldiers. And with this came the memory
+of the olden time, when he was so beloved by his people, because so just
+and gentle. Something of this old feeling now returned, and as they
+lowered their weapons a tear glistened in many a hardy soldier's eye.
+
+With the quick perception of true genius, Nathaniel Bacon saw the effect
+produced. Well aware of the volatile materials with which he had to
+work, he dreaded a revolution in the feelings of the men. Anxious to
+smother the smouldering ashes of loyalty before they were fanned into a
+flame, he cried with a loud voice,
+
+"Not a hair of your head shall be touched. No, nor of any man's. I come
+for justice, not for vengeance. I come to plead for the mercy which
+ill-judged and cruel delay has long denied this people. I come to plead
+for the living--my argument may be heard from the dead. The voices of
+murdered Englishmen call to you from the ground. We demand a right,
+guarantied by the sacred and inviolable law of self-preservation! A
+right! guarantied by the plighted but violated word of an English knight
+and a Virginia Governor. A right! which I now hold by the powerful,
+albeit unwritten, sanction of these, the sovereigns of Virginia."
+
+The last artful allusion of Bacon entirely restored the confidence of
+his soldiers, and with loud cries they shouted in chorus, "And we will
+have it!--we will have it!"
+
+Berkeley listened patiently to this brief address, and then turned from
+the window where he was standing, and took his seat at the
+council-table. Here, too, he was surrounded by many who, either alarmed
+at the menaces of the rebels, and convinced of the futility of resisting
+their demands, or, what is more probable, who had a secret sympathy in
+the causes of the rebellion, exerted all their influence in mollifying
+the wrath and obstinacy of the old Governor. But it was all in vain. To
+every argument or persuasion which was urged, his only reply was,
+
+"To have forced from me by rebels the trust confided in me by my king!
+To yield to force what I denied to petition! No, Gentlemen; 'fore God,
+if the authority of my master's government must be overcome in Virginia,
+let me perish with it. I wish no higher destiny than to be a martyr,
+like my royal master, Charles the First, to the cause of truth and
+justice. Let them rob me of my life when they rob me of my trust."
+
+While thus the councillors were vainly endeavoring to persuade the old
+man to yield to the current which had so set against him, he was
+surprised by a slight touch on his shoulder, and on looking up he saw
+Alfred Bernard standing before him. The young man bent over, and in a
+low whisper uttered these significant words:
+
+"The commission, extorted by force, is null and void when the duress is
+removed."
+
+Struck by a view so apposite to his condition, and so entirely tallying
+with his own wishes, the impetuous old Governor fairly leaped from his
+chair and grasped the hand of his young adviser.
+
+"Right, by God!" he said; "right, my son. Gentlemen, this young man's
+counsel is worth all of your's. Out of the mouth of babes and
+sucklings--however, Alfred, you would not relish a compliment paid at
+the expense of your manhood."
+
+"What does the young man propose?" drawled the phlegmatic old Cole, who
+was one of the council board.
+
+"That I should yield to the current when I must, and resist it when I
+can," cried Berkeley, exultingly. "Loyalty must only bow to the storm,
+as the tree bows before the tempest. The most efficient resistance is
+apparent concession."
+
+The councillors were astounded. Sprung from that chivalric Anglo-Saxon
+race, who respected honour more than life, and felt a stain like a
+wound, they could scarcely believe their senses when they thus heard the
+Governor of Virginia recommending deceit and simulation to secure his
+safety. To them, rebellion was chiefly detestable because it was an
+infraction of the oath of loyalty. It could scarcely be more base than
+the premeditated perjury which Sir William contemplated. Many an angry
+eye and dark scowl was bent on Alfred Bernard, who met them with an easy
+and defiant air. The silence that ensued expressed more clearly than
+words the disapprobation of the council. At length old Ballard, one of
+the most loyal and esteemed members of the council, hazarded an
+expression of his views.
+
+"Sir William Berkeley, let me advise you as your counsellor, and warn
+you as your friend, to avoid the course prescribed by that young man.
+What effect can your bad faith with these misguided persons have, but to
+exasperate them?--and when once aroused, and once deceived, be assured
+that all attempts at reconciliation will be vain. I speak plainly, but I
+do so because not only your own safety, but the peace and prosperity of
+the colony are involved in your decision. Were not the broken pledges of
+that unhappy Stuart, to whom you have referred, the causes of that
+fearful revolution which alienated the affections of his subjects and at
+length cost him his life? Charles Stuart has not died in vain, if, by
+his death and his sufferings, he has taught his successors in power that
+candour, moderation and truth are due from a prince to his people. But,
+alas! what oceans of blood must be shed ere man will learn those useful
+lessons, which alone can ensure his happiness and secure his authority."
+
+"Zounds, Ballard," said the incensed old ruler, "you have mistaken your
+calling. I have not heard so fine a sermon this many a day, and, 'fore
+God, if you will only renounce politics, and don gown and cassock, I
+will have you installed forthwith in my dismal Hutchinson's living.
+But," he added, more seriously, as the smile of bitter derision faded
+from his lips, "I well e'en tell you that you have expressed yourself a
+matter too freely, and have forgotten what you owe to position and
+authority."
+
+"I have forgotten neither, sir," said Ballard, firmly but calmly. "I owe
+respect to position, even though I may not have it for the man who holds
+that position; and when authority is abused, I owe it alike to myself
+and to the people to check it so far as I may."
+
+The flush of passion mounted to the brow of Berkeley, as he listened to
+these words; but with a violent effort he checked the angry retort which
+rose to his lips, and turning to the rest of the council, he said:
+
+"Well, gentlemen, I will submit the proposition to you. Shall the
+commission of General of the forces of Virginia be granted to Nathaniel
+Bacon?"
+
+"Nay, Governor," interposed another of the council, "we would know
+whether you intend--"
+
+"It is of my actions that you must advise. Leave my motives to me. What
+do you advise? Shall the commission be granted?"
+
+"Aye," was responded in turn by each of the councillors at the board,
+and at the same moment the heavy tramp of approaching footsteps was
+heard, and Bacon, attended by Lawrence, Bland and Hansford, entered the
+chamber.
+
+The council remained seated and covered, and preserved the most
+imperturbable silence. It was a scene not unlike that of that ancient
+senate, who, unable to resist the attack of barbarians, evinced their
+pride and bravery by their contemptuous silence. The sun was shining
+brightly through the western windows of the chamber, and his glaring
+rays, softened and coloured by the rich red curtains of damask, threw a
+deeper flush upon the cheeks of the haughty old councillors. With their
+eyes fixed upon the intruders, they patiently awaited the result of the
+interview. On the other hand, the attitude and behaviour of the rebels
+was not less calm and dignified. They had evidently counselled well
+before they had determined to intrude thus upon the deliberations of the
+council. It was with no angry or impatient outburst of passion, with no
+air of triumph, that they came. They knew their rights, and had come to
+claim and maintain them.
+
+There were two men there, and they the youngest of that mixed assembly,
+who viewed each other with looks of darker hatred than the rest. The
+wound inflicted in Hansford's heart at Windsor Hall had not yet been
+healed--and with that tendency to injustice so habitual to lovers, with
+the proclivity of all men to seek out some one whom they may charge as
+the author of their own misfortune, he viewed Bernard with feelings of
+distrust and enmity. He felt, too, or rather he feared, that the heart
+left vacant by his own exclusion from it, might be filled with this
+young rival. Bernard, on the other hand, had even stronger reason of
+dislike, and if such motives could operate even upon the noble mind of
+Hansford, with how much greater force would they impress the selfish
+character of the young jesuit. The recollection of that last scene with
+Virginia in the park, of her unwavering devotion to her rebel lover,
+and her disregard of his own feelings came upon him now with renewed
+force, as he saw that rebel rival stand before him. Even if filial
+regard for her father's wishes and a sense of duty to herself would
+forever prevent her alliance with Hansford, Alfred Bernard felt that so
+long as his rival lived there was an insuperable obstacle to his
+acquisition of her estate, an object which he prized even more than her
+love. Thus these two young men darted angry glances at each other, and
+forgot in their own personal aggrievements, the higher principles for
+which they were engaged of loyalty on the one hand, and liberty on the
+other.
+
+Bacon was the first to break silence.
+
+"Methinks," he said, "that your honours are not inclined to fall into
+the error of deciding in haste and repenting at leisure."
+
+"Mr. Bacon," said Berkeley, "you must be aware that the appearance of
+this armed force tends to prejudice your claims. It would be indecorous
+in me to be over-awed by menaces, or to yield to compulsion. But the
+necessities of the time demand that there should be an organized force,
+to resist the encroachments of the Indians. It is, therefore, not from
+fear of your threats, but from conviction of this necessity that I have
+determined to grant you the commission which you ask, with full power to
+raise, equip, and provision an army, and with instructions, that you
+forthwith proceed to march against the savages."
+
+Bacon could scarcely suppress a smile at this boastful appearance of
+authority and disavowal of compulsion, on the part of the proud old
+Governor. It was with a thrill of rapture that he thus at last possessed
+the great object of his wishes. Already idolized by the people, he only
+needed a legal recognition of his authority to accomplish the great ends
+that he had in view. As the commission was made out in due form,
+engrossed and sealed, and handed to him, he clutched it eagerly, as
+though it were a sceptre of royal power. Little suspecting the design of
+the wily Governor, he felt all his confidence in him restored at once,
+and from his generous heart he forgave him all the past.
+
+"This commission, though military," he said, proudly, "is the seal of
+restored tranquillity to the colony. Think not it will be perverted to
+improper uses. Royalty is to Virginians what the sun is to the pious
+Persian. Virginia was the last to desert the setting sun of royalty, and
+still lingered piously and tearfully to look upon its declining rays.
+She was the first to hail the glorious restoration of its light, and as
+she worshipped its rising beams, she will never seek to quench or
+overcloud its meridian lustre. I go, gentlemen, to restore peace to the
+fireside and confidence to the hearts of this people. The sword of my
+country shall never be turned against herself."
+
+The heightened colour of his cheek, and the bright flashing of his eye,
+bespoke the pride and delight of his heart. With a profound bow he
+turned from the room, and with his aids, he descended to rejoin his
+anxious and expectant followers. In a few moments the loud shout of the
+soldiery was heard testifying their satisfaction at the result. The
+names of Berkeley and of Bacon were upon their lips--and as the proud
+old Governor gazed from the window at that happy crowd, and saw with the
+admiring eye of a brave man, the tall and martial form of Nathaniel
+Bacon at their head, he scarcely regretted in that moment that his loyal
+name had been linked with the name of a traitor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+    "Me glory summons to the martial scene,
+    The field of combat is the sphere of men;
+    Where heroes war the foremost place I claim,
+    The first in danger, as the first in fame."
+                                              _Pope's Iliad._
+
+
+We return to Virginia Temple, who, although not an eye-witness of the
+scene which we have just described, was far from being disinterested in
+its result. The words of the singular woman, with whom she had
+conversed, had made some impression upon her mind. Although disgusted
+with the facility with which Dame Drummond had distorted and perverted
+Scripture to justify her own wild absurdities, Virginia still felt that
+there was much cause for self-reproach in her conduct to her lover. She
+felt every assurance that though he might err, he would err from
+judgment alone; and how little did she know of the questions at issue
+between the aroused people and the government. Indeed, when she saw the
+character of those with whom Hansford was associated--men not impelled
+by the blind excitement of a mob, but evidently actuated by higher
+principles of right and justice, her heart misgave her that, perhaps,
+she had permitted prejudice to carry her too far in her opposition to
+their cause. The struggle in her mind was indeed an unequal one. It was
+love pleading against ignorant prejudice, and that at the forum of a
+woman's heart. Can it be wondered at that Virginia Temple, left to
+herself, without an adviser, yielded to the powerful plea, and freely
+and fully forgave her rebel lover? And when she thought, too, that,
+however guilty to his country, he had, at least, been ever faithful to
+her, she added to her forgiveness of him the bitterest self-reproach. On
+one thing she was resolved, that notwithstanding the apparent indelicacy
+of such a course, she would grant him the interview which he requested,
+and if she could not win him from his error, at least part from him,
+though forever, as a friend. She felt that it was due to her former
+love, and to his unwavering devotion, to grant this last request.
+
+Once determined on her course, the hours rolled heavily away until the
+time fixed for her appointment with Hansford. Despite her attempt to
+prove cheerful and unconcerned, her lynx-eyed mother detected her
+sadness, but was easily persuaded that it was due to a slight head-ache,
+with which she was really suffering, and which she pleaded as an excuse.
+The old lady was more easily deceived, because it tallied with her own
+idea, that Jamestown was very unhealthy, and that she, herself, could
+never breathe its unwholesome air without the most disastrous
+consequences to her health.
+
+At length, Colonel Temple, having left the crowd of busy politicians,
+who were discussing the events of the day in the hall, returned with his
+good wife to their own room. Virginia, with a beating heart, resumed her
+watch at the window, where she was to await the coming of Sarah
+Drummond. It was a warm, still night. Scarcely a breath of air was
+stirring the leaves of the long line of elms that adorned the street.
+She sat watching the silent stars, and wondering if those bright worlds
+contained scenes of sorrow and despair like this; or were they but the
+pure mansions which the Comforter was preparing in his heavenly kingdom
+for those disconsolate children of earth who longed for that peace which
+he had promised when he told his trusting disciples "Let not your heart
+be troubled, neither let it be afraid." How apt are the sorrowing souls
+of earth to look thus into the blue depths of heaven, and in their
+selfishness to think that Nature, with her host of created beings, was
+made for them. She chose from among those shining worlds, one bright and
+trembling star, which stood apart, and there transported on the wings of
+Fancy or Faith, she lived in love and peace with Hansford. Sweet was
+that star-home to the trusting girl, as she watched it in its slow and
+silent course through heaven. Free from the cares which vex the spirit
+in this dark sin-world, that happy star was filled with love, and the
+blissful pair who knew it as their home, felt no change, save in the
+"grateful vicissitude of pleasure and repose." Such was the picture
+which the young girl, with the pencil of hope, and the colours of fancy
+painted for her soul's eye. But as she gazed, the star faded from her
+sight, and a dark and heavy cloud lowered from the place where it had
+stood.
+
+At the same moment, as if the vision in which she had been rapt was
+something more than a dream, the door of her chamber opened, and Sarah
+Drummond entered. The heart of Virginia Temple nearly failed her, as she
+thought of the coincidence in time of the disappearance of the star and
+the summons to her interview with Hansford. Her companion marked her
+manner, and in a more gentle voice than she had yet assumed, she said,
+
+"Why art thou cast down, maiden? Let not your heart sink in the
+performance of a duty. Have you decided?"
+
+"Must I meet him alone?" asked Virginia. "Oh, how could he make a
+request so hard to be complied with!"
+
+"Alone!" said Sarah, with a sneer. "Yes, silly girl, reared in the
+school that would teach that woman's virtue is too frail even to be
+tempted. Yes, alone! She who cannot trust her honour to a lover, knows
+but little of the true power of love."
+
+"I will follow you," replied Virginia, firmly, and throwing a shawl
+loosely around her, she rose from her seat and prepared to go.
+
+"Come on, then," said Sarah, quickly, "there is no time to be lost. In
+an hour, at most, the triumphant defenders of right will be upon their
+march."
+
+The insurgents, wearied with their long march the night and day before,
+and finding no accommodation for their numbers in the inn, or elsewhere,
+had determined to seek a few hours repose in the green lawn surrounding
+the state-house, previous to their night march upon the Indians. It was
+here that Hansford had appointed to meet and bid farewell to his
+betrothed Virginia. Half leading, half dragging the trembling girl, who
+had already well nigh repented her resolution, Sarah Drummond walked
+rapidly down the street, in the direction of the state-house. Arrived at
+the gate, their further progress was arrested by a rough, uncouth
+sentinel, who in a coarse voice demanded who they were.
+
+"I am Sarah Drummond," said the woman, promptly, "and this young maiden
+would speak with Major Hansford."
+
+"Why, 'stains, dame, what has become of all your religion, that you
+should turn ribibe on our hands, and be bringing young hoydens this time
+o' night to the officers. For shame, Dame Drummond."
+
+"Berkenhead," cried the woman, fiercely, "we all know you for a traitor
+and a blasphemer, who serve but for the loaves and fishes, and not for
+the pure word. You gained your liberty, you know, by betraying your
+fellows in the insurrection of '62, and are a base pensioner upon the
+bounty of the Assembly for your cowardice and treason. But God often
+maketh the carnal-minded of this world to fulfil his will, and so we
+must e'en bear with you yet a little while. Come, let us pass."
+
+"Nay, dame," said the old soldier, "I care but little for your abuse;
+but duty is duty, and so an' ye give me not the shibboleth, as old
+Noll's canters would say, you may e'en tramp back. You see, I've got
+some of your slang, and will fight the devil with his own fire: 'And
+there fell of the children of Ephraim, at the passage of the Jordan--'"
+
+"Hush, blasphemer!" said Sarah, impatiently. "But if you must have the
+pass before you can admit us, take it." And she leaned forward and
+whispered in his ear the words, "Be faithful to the cause."
+
+"Right as a trivet," said Berkenhead, "and so pass on. A fig for the
+consequences, so that my skirts are clear."
+
+Relieved from this embarrassment, Sarah Drummond and her trembling
+companion passed through the gate, and proceeded up the long gravelled
+walk which led to the state-house. They had not gone far before Virginia
+Temple descried a dark form approaching them, and even before she could
+recognize the features, her heart told her it was Hansford. In another
+moment she was in his arms.
+
+"My own Virginia, my loved one," he cried, regardless of the presence of
+Mrs. Drummond, "I scarcely dared hope that you would have kept your
+promise to say farewell. Come, dearest, lean on my arm, I have much to
+tell you. You, my kind dame, remain here for a few moments--we will not
+detain you long."
+
+Quietly yielding to his request, Virginia took her lover's arm, and they
+walked silently along the path, leaving the good dame Drummond to digest
+alone her crude notions about the prospects of Israel.
+
+"Is it not singular," said Hansford at length, "that before you came, I
+thought the brief hour we must spend together was far too short to say
+half that I wish, and now I can say nothing. The quiet feeling of love,
+of pure and tranquil love, banishes every other thought from my heart."
+
+"I fear--I fear," murmured Virginia, "that I have done very wrong in
+consenting to this interview."
+
+"And why, Virginia," said her lover, "even the malefactor is permitted
+the poor privilege of bidding farewell forever to those around him--and
+am I worse than he?"
+
+"No, Hansford, no," replied Virginia, "but to come thus with a perfect
+stranger, at night, and without my father's permission, to an interview
+with one who has met with his disapprobation--"
+
+"True love," replied Hansford, sadly, "overleaps all such feeble
+barriers as these--where the happiness of the loved one is concerned."
+
+"And, therefore, I came," returned the young girl, "but you forget,
+Hansford, that the relation which once existed between us has, by our
+mutual consent, been dissolved--what then was proper cannot now be
+permitted."
+
+"If such be the case," replied Hansford, in an offended tone, "Miss
+Temple must be aware that I am the last person to urge her to continue
+in a course which her judgment disapproves. May I conduct you to your
+companion?"
+
+Virginia did not at first reply. The coldness of manner which she had
+assumed was far from being consonant with her real feelings, and the
+ingenuous girl could no longer continue the part which she attempted to
+represent. After a brief pause, the natural affection of her nature
+triumphed, and with the most artless frankness she said,
+
+"Oh, no, Hansford, my tongue can no longer speak other language than
+that which my heart dictates. Forgive me for what I have said. We cannot
+part thus."
+
+"Thanks, my dearest girl," he cried, "for this assurance. The future is
+already too dark, for the light of hope to be entirely withdrawn. These
+troublous times will soon be over, and then--"
+
+"Nay, Hansford," said Virginia, interrupting him, "I fear you cannot
+even then hope for that happiness which you profess to anticipate in our
+union. These things I have thought of deeply and sorrowfully. Whatever
+may be the issue of this unnatural contest, to us the result must be the
+same. My father's prejudices--and without his consent, I would never
+yield my hand to any one--are so strong against your cause, that come
+what may, they can never be removed."
+
+"He must himself, ere long, see the justice of our cause," said
+Hansford, confidently. "It is impossible that truth can long be hid from
+one, who, like your noble father, must ever be desirous of its success."
+
+"And do you think," returned Virginia, "that having failed to arrive at
+your conclusions in his moments of calm reflection, he will be apt to
+change his opinions under the more formidable reasoning of the bayonet?
+Believe me, Hansford, that scenes like those which we have this day
+witnessed, can never reconcile the opposing parties in this unhappy
+strife."
+
+"It is true, too true," said Hansford, sorrowfully; "and is there then
+no hope?"
+
+"Yes, there is a hope," said Virginia, earnestly. "Let not the foolish
+pride of consistency prevent you from acknowledging an error when
+committed. Boldly and manfully renounce the career into which impulse
+has driven you. Return to your allegiance--to your ancient faith; and
+believe me, that Virginia Temple will rejoice more in your repentance
+than if all the honours of martial glory, or of civic renown, were
+showered upon you. She would rather be the trusting wife of the humble
+and repentant servant of his king, than the queen of a sceptered
+usurper, who clambered to the throne through the blood of the martyrs of
+faith and loyalty."
+
+"Oh, Virginia!" said Hansford, struggling hard between duty and love.
+
+"I know it is hard to conquer the fearful pride of your heart," said
+Virginia; "but, Hansford, 'tis a noble courage that is victorious in
+such a contest. Let me hear your decision. There is a civil war in your
+heart," she added, more playfully, "and that rebel pride must succumb to
+the strong arm of your own self-government."
+
+"In God's name, tempt me no further!" cried Hansford. "We may well
+believe that man lost his high estate of happiness by the allurements of
+woman, since even now the cause of truth is endangered by listening to
+her persuasions."
+
+"I had hoped," replied the young girl, aroused by this sudden change of
+manner on the part of her lover, "that the love which you have so long
+professed was something more than mere profession. But be it so. The
+first sacrifice which you have ever been called upon to make has
+estranged your heart forever, and you toss aside the love which you
+pretended so fondly to cherish, as a toy no longer worthy of your
+regard."
+
+"This is unkind, Virginia," returned Hansford, in an injured tone. "I
+have not deserved this at your hands. Sorely you have tempted me; but,
+thank God, not even the sweet hope which you extend can allure me from
+my duty. If my country demand the sacrifice of my heart, then let the
+victim be bound upon her altar. The sweet memories of the past, the love
+which still dwells in that heart, the crushed hopes of the future, will
+all unite to form the sad garland to adorn it for the sacrifice."
+
+The tone of deep melancholy with which Hansford uttered these words
+showed how painful had been the struggle through which he had passed. It
+had its effect, too, upon the heart of Virginia. She felt how cruel had
+been her language just before--how unjust had been her charge of
+inconstancy. She saw at once the fierce contest in Hansford's breast, in
+which duty had triumphed over love. Ingenuous as she ever was, she
+acknowledged her fault, and wept, and was forgiven.
+
+"And now," said Hansford, more calmly, "my own Virginia--for I may still
+call you so--in thus severing forever the chain which has bound us, I do
+not renounce my love, nor the deep interest which I feel in your future
+destiny. I love you too dearly to wish that you should still love me;
+find elsewhere some one more worthy than I to fill your heart. Forget
+that you ever loved me; if you can, forget that you ever knew me. And
+yet, as a friend, let me warn you, with all the sincerity of my heart,
+to beware of Alfred Bernard."
+
+"Of whom?" asked Virginia, in surprise.
+
+"Of that serpent, who, with gilded crest and subtle guile, would intrude
+into the garden of your heart," continued Hansford, solemnly.
+
+"Why, Hansford," said Virginia, "you scarcely know the young man of whom
+you speak. Like you, my friend, my affections are buried in the past. I
+can never love again. But yet I would not have you wrong with unjust
+suspicions one who has never done you wrong. On the contrary, even in my
+brief intercourse with him, his conduct towards you has been courteous
+and generous."
+
+"How hard is it for innocence to suspect guile," said Hansford. "My
+sweet girl, these very professions of generosity towards me, have but
+sealed my estimate of his character. For me he entertains the deadliest
+hate. Against me he has sworn the deadliest vengeance. I tell you,
+Virginia, that if ever kindly nature implanted an instinct in the human
+heart to warn it of approaching danger, she did so when first I looked
+upon that man. My subsequent knowledge of him but strengthened this
+intuition. Mild, insinuating, and artful, he is more to be feared than
+an open foe. I dread a villain when I see him smile."
+
+"Hush! we are overheard," said Virginia, trembling, and looking around,
+Hansford saw Arthur Hutchinson, the preacher, emerging from the shadow
+of an adjacent elm tree.
+
+"Young gentleman," said Hutchinson, in his soft melodious voice, "I have
+heard unwillingly what perhaps I should not. He who would speak in the
+darkness of the night as you have spoken of an absent man, does not care
+to have many auditors."
+
+"And he who would screen himself in that darkness, to hear what he
+should not," retorted Hansford, haughtily, "is not the man to resent
+what he has heard, I fear. But what I say, I am ready to maintain with
+my sword--and if you be a friend of the individual of whom I have
+spoken, and choose to espouse his quarrel, let me conduct this young
+lady to a place of safety, and I will return to grant such satisfaction
+as you or your principal may desire."
+
+"This young maiden will tell you," said Hutchinson, "that I am not one
+of those who acknowledge that bloody arbiter between man and man, to
+which you refer."
+
+"Oh, no!" cried Virginia, in an agitated voice; "this is the good parson
+Hutchinson, of whom you have heard."
+
+"And you, maiden," said Hutchinson, "are not in the path of duty. Think
+you it is either modest or becoming, to leave your parents and your
+home, and seek a clandestine interview with this stranger. Return to
+your home. You have erred, grossly erred in this."
+
+"Nay," cried Hansford, in a threatening voice, "if you say ought in
+reproach of this young lady, by heavens, your parson's coat will scarce
+protect you from the just punishment of your insolence;" then suddenly
+checking himself, he added, "Forgive me, sir, this hasty folly. I
+believe you mean well, although your language is something of the most
+offensive. And say to your friend Mr. Bernard, all that you have heard,
+and tell him for Major Hansford, that there is an account to be settled
+between us, which I have not forgotten."
+
+"Hansford!" cried the preacher, with emotion, "Hansford, did you say?
+Look ye, sir, I am a minister of peace, and cannot on my conscience bear
+your hostile message. But I warn you, if your name indeed be Hansford,
+that you are in danger from the young man of whom you speak. His blood
+is hot, his arm is skilful, and towards you his purpose is not good."
+
+"I thank you for your timely warning, good sir," returned Hansford,
+haughtily; "but you speak of danger to one who regards it not." Then
+turning to Virginia, he said in a low voice, "'Tis at least a blessing,
+that the despair which denies to the heart the luxury of love, at least
+makes it insensible to fear."
+
+"And are you such an one," said Hutchinson, overhearing him; "and is it
+on thee that the iniquities of the father will be visited. Forbid it,
+gracious heaven, and forgive as thou would'st have me forgive the sins
+of the past."
+
+"Mr. Hutchinson," said Hansford, annoyed by the preacher's solemn manner
+and mysterious words, "I know nothing, and care little for all this
+mystery. Your brain must be a little disordered--for I assure you, that
+as I was born in the colony, and you are but a recent settler here, it
+is impossible that there can be any such mysterious tie between us as
+that at which you so darkly hint."
+
+"The day may come," replied Hutchinson, in the same solemn manner, "when
+you will know all to your cost--and when you may find that care and
+sorrow can indeed shake reason on her throne."
+
+"Well, be it so, but as you value your safety, urge me no further with
+these menaces. But pardon me, how came you in this enclosure? Know you
+not that you are within the boundaries of the General's camp, against
+his strict orders?"
+
+"Aye," replied the preacher, "I knew that the rebels were encamped
+hereabout, but I did not, and do not, see by what right they can impede
+a peaceful citizen in his movements."
+
+"Reverend sir," said Hansford, "you have the reputation of having a
+sound head on your shoulders, and should have a prudent tongue in your
+head. I would advise you, therefore, to refrain from the too frequent
+use of that word 'rebel,' which just fell from you. But it is time we
+should part. I will conduct you to the gate lest you find some
+difficulty in passing the sentry, and you will oblige me, kind sir, by
+seeing this young lady to her home." Then turning to Virginia, he
+whispered his brief adieu, and imprinting a long, warm kiss upon her
+lips, he led the way in silence to the gate. Here they parted. She to
+return to her quiet chamber to mourn over hopes thus fled forever, and
+he to forget self and sorrow in the stirring events of martial life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+      "In the service of mankind to be
+    A guardian god below; still to employ
+    The mind's brave ardour in heroic aims,
+    Such as may raise us o'er the grovelling herd
+    And make us shine forever--that is life."
+                                        _Thomson._
+
+
+In a short time the bustle and stir in the camp of the insurgents
+announced that their little army was about to commence its march.
+Nathaniel Bacon rode slowly along Stuart street, at the head of the
+soldiery, and leaving Jamestown to the east, extended his march towards
+the falls of James river. Here, he had received intelligence that the
+hostile tribes had gathered to a head, and he determined without delay
+to march upon them unawares, and with one decisive blow to put an end to
+the war. Flushed with triumph, he thought, the soldiery would more
+willingly and efficiently turn their arms against the government, and
+aid in carrying out his darling project of effecting some organic
+changes in the charter of the colony; if, indeed, it was not already his
+purpose to dissolve the political connection of Virginia with the mother
+country.
+
+The little party rode on in silence for several miles, for each was
+buried in his own reflections. Bacon, with his own peculiar views of
+ambition and glory, felt but little sympathy with those who united in
+the rebellion for the specific object of a march against the savages.
+Hansford was meditating on the heavy sacrifice which he had made for his
+country's service, and striving to see, in the dim future, some gleam of
+hope which might cheer him in his gloom. Lawrence and Drummond, the two
+most influential leaders in the movement, had been left behind in
+Jamestown, their place of residence, to watch the movements of Berkeley,
+in whose fair promises none of the insurgents seemed to place implicit
+confidence. The rest of the little party had already exhausted in
+discussion the busy events of the day, and remained silent from want of
+material for conversation.
+
+At length, however, Bacon, whose knowledge of human nature had
+penetrated the depths of Hansford's heart, and who felt deeply for his
+favourite, gave him the signal to advance somewhat in front of their
+comrades, and the following conversation took place:
+
+"And so, my friend," said Bacon, in the mild, winning voice, which he
+knew so well how to assume; "and so, my friend, you have renounced your
+dearest hopes in life for this glorious enterprise."
+
+Hansford only answered with a sigh.
+
+"Take it not thus hardly," continued Bacon. "Think of your loss as a
+sacrifice to liberty. Look to the future for your happiness, to a
+redeemed and liberated country for your home--to glory as your bride."
+
+"Alas!" said Hansford, "glory could never repay the loss of happiness.
+Believe me, General, that personal fame is not what I covet. Far better
+would it be for me to have been born and reared in obscurity, and to
+pass my brief life with those I love, than for the glittering bauble,
+glory, to give up all that is dear to the heart."
+
+"And do you repent the course you have taken," asked Bacon, with some
+surprise.
+
+"Repent! no; God forbid that I should repent of any sacrifice which I
+have made to the cause of my country. But it is duty that prompts me,
+not glory. For as to this selfsame will-o'-the-wisp, which seems to
+allure so many from happiness, I trust it not. I am much of the little
+Prince Arthur's mind--
+
+    'By my Christendom,
+    So I were out of prison and kept sheep,
+    I should be as merry as the day is long.'
+
+Duty is the prison which at last keeps man from enjoying his own happier
+inclination."
+
+"There you are wrong, Hansford," said Bacon, "duty is the poor drudge,
+which, patient in its harness, pursues the will of another. Glory is the
+wild, unconfined eagle, that impatient of restraint would soar to a
+heaven of its own."
+
+"And is it such an object as this that actuates you in our present
+enterprise?" asked Hansford.
+
+"Both," replied the enthusiastic leader. "Man, in his actions, is
+controlled by many forces--and duty is chiefly prized when it waits as
+the humble handmaiden on glory. But in this enterprise other feelings
+enter in to direct my course. Revenge against these relentless wolves of
+the forest for the murder of a friend--revenge against that proud old
+tyrant, Berkeley, who, clothed in a little brief authority, would
+trample me under his feet,--love of my country, which impels me to aid
+in her reformation, and to secure her liberty--and, nay, don't
+frown,--desire for that fame which is to the mere discharge of plain
+duty what the spirit is to the body--which directs and sustains it here,
+but survives its dissolution. Are not these sufficient motives of
+action?"
+
+"Pardon me, General," said Hansford, "but I see only one motive here
+which is worthy of you. Self-preservation, not revenge, could alone
+justify an assault upon these misguided savages--and your love of
+country is sufficient inducement to urge you to her protection and
+defence. But these motives are chiefly personal to yourself. How can you
+expect them to affect the minds of your followers?"
+
+"Look ye, Major Hansford," said Bacon, "I speak to you as I do not to
+most men--because I know you have a mind and a heart superior to
+them--I would dare not attempt to influence you as I do others; but do
+you see those poor trusting fellows that are following in our wake?
+These men help men like you and me to rise, as feathers help the eagle
+to soar above the clouds. But the proud bird may moult a feather from
+his pinion without descending from his lofty pride of place."
+
+"And this then is what you call liberty?" said Hansford, a little
+offended at the overbearing manner of the young demagogue.
+
+"Certainly," returned Bacon, calmly, "the only liberty for which the
+mass of mankind are fitted. The instincts of nature point them to the
+man most worthy to control their destinies. Their brute force aids in
+elevating him to power--and then he returns upon their heads the
+blessings with which they have entrusted him. Do you remember the happy
+compliment of my old namesake of St. Albans to Queen Elizabeth? Royalty
+is the heaven which, like the blessed sun, exhales the moisture from the
+earth, and then distilling it in gentle rains, it falleth on the heads
+of those from whom she has received it."
+
+"I remember the compliment, which beautiful though it may be in imagery,
+I always thought was but the empty flattery of a vain old royal spinster
+by an accomplished courtier. I never suspected that St. Albans, far less
+his relative, Nathaniel Bacon, believed it to be true. And so, with all
+your high flown doctrines of popular rights and popular liberty, you are
+an advocate for royalty at last."
+
+"Nay, you mistake me, I will not say wilfully," replied Bacon, in an
+offended tone, "I merely used the sentiment as an illustration of what I
+had been saying. The people must have rulers, and my idea of liberty
+only extends to their selection of them. After that, stability in
+government requires that the power of the people should cease, and that
+of the ruler begin. You may purify the stream through which the power
+flows, by constantly resorting to the fountain head; but if you keep the
+power pent up in the fountain, like water, it will stagnate and become
+impure, or else overflow its banks and devastate that soil which it was
+intended to fertilize."
+
+"Our ideas of liberty, I confess," said Hansford, "differ very widely.
+God grant that our antagonistic views may not prejudice the holy cause
+in which we are now engaged."
+
+"Well, let us drop the subject then," said Bacon, carelessly, "as there
+is so little prospect of our agreeing in sentiment. What I said was
+merely meant to while away this tedious journey, and make you forget
+your own private griefs. But tell me, what do you think of the result of
+this enterprise?"
+
+"I think it attended with great danger," replied Hansford.
+
+"I had not thought," returned Bacon, with something between a smile and
+a sneer, "that Thomas Hansford would have considered the question of
+peril involved in a contest like this."
+
+"I am at a loss to understand your meaning," said Hansford, indignantly.
+"If you think I regard danger for myself, I tell you that it is a
+feeling as far a stranger to my bosom as to your own, and this I am
+ready to maintain. If you meant no offence, I will merely say that it is
+the part of every general to 'sit down and consider the cost' before
+engaging in any enterprise."
+
+"Why will you be so quick to take offence?" said Bacon. "Do I not know
+that fear is a stranger to your breast?--else why confide in you as I
+have done? But I spoke not of the danger attending our enterprise. To me
+danger is not a matter of indifference, it is an object of desire. They
+who would bathe in a Stygian wave, to render them invulnerable, are not
+worthy of the name of heroes. It is only the unmailed warrior, whose
+form, like the white plume of Navarre, is seen where danger is the
+thickest, that is truly brave and truly great."
+
+"You are a singular being, Bacon," said Hansford, with admiration, "and
+were born to be a hero. But tell me, what is it that you expect or hope
+for poor Virginia, when all your objects may be attained? She is still
+but a poor, helpless colony, sapped of her resources by a relentless
+sovereign, and expected to submit quietly to the oppressions of those
+who would enslave her."
+
+"By heavens, no!" cried Bacon, impetuously. "It shall never be. Her
+voice has been already heard by haughty England, and it shall again be
+heard in thunder tones. She who yielded not to the call of an imperious
+dictator--she who proposed terms to Cromwell--will not long bear the
+insulting oppression of the imbecile Stuarts. The day is coming, and now
+is, when on this Western continent shall arise a nation, before whose
+potent sway even Britain shall be forced to bow. Virginia shall be the
+Rome and England shall be the Troy, and history will record the annals
+of that haughty and imperious kingdom chiefly because she was the mother
+of this western Rome. Yes," he continued, borne along impetuously by his
+own gushing thoughts, "there shall come a time when Freedom will look
+westward for her home, and when the oppressed of every nation shall
+watch with anxious eye that star of Freedom in its onward course, and
+follow its bright guidance till it stands over the place where
+Virginia--this young child of Liberty--is; and oh! Hansford, will it
+then be nothing that we were among those who watched the infant
+breathings of that political Saviour--who gave it the lessons of wisdom
+and of virtue, and first taught it to speak and proclaim its mission to
+the world? Will it then be nothing for future generations to point to
+our names, and, in the language of pride and gratitude, to cry, there go
+the authors of our freedom?"
+
+So spake the young enthusiast, thus dimly foreshadowing the glory that
+was to be--the freedom which, just one hundred years from that eventful
+period, burst upon the world. He was not permitted, like Simeon of old,
+to see the salvation for which he longed, and for which he wrought. And
+yet he helped to plant the germ, which expanded into the wide-spreading
+tree, and his name should not be forgotten by those who rejoice in its
+fruit, or rest secure beneath its shade.
+
+Thus whiling away the hours of the night in such engrossing subjects,
+Hansford had nearly forgotten his sorrows in the visions of the future.
+How beneficent the Providence which thus enables the mind to receive
+from without entirely new impressions, which soften down, though they
+cannot erase, the wounds that a harsh destiny has inflicted.
+
+But it is time that the thread of our narrative was broken, in order to
+follow the fortunes of an humble, yet worthy character of our story.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+    "I am sorry for thee; thou art come to answer
+    A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch,
+    Uncapable of pity, void and empty
+    From any claim of mercy."
+                      _Merchant of Venice._
+
+
+It was on a bright and beautiful morning--for mysterious nature often
+smiles on the darkest deeds of her children--that a group of Indians
+were assembled around the council-fire in one of the extensive forest
+ranges of Virginia. Their faces painted in the most grotesque and
+hideous manner, the fierceness of their looks, and the savageness of
+their dress, would alone have inspired awe in the breast of a spectator.
+But on the present occasion, the fatal business in which they were
+engaged imparted even more than usual wildness to their appearance and
+vehemence to their manner. Bound to a neighbouring tree so tightly as to
+produce the most acute pain to the poor creature, was an aged negro, who
+seemed to be the object of the vehement eloquence of his savage captors.
+Although confinement, torture, and despair had effected a fearful
+change, by tracing the lines of great suffering on his countenance, yet
+it would not have been difficult even then to recognize in the poor
+trembling wretch our old negro friend at Windsor Hall.
+
+After discovering the deception that had been practised on them by
+Mamalis, and punishing the selfish ambition of Manteo, by expelling him
+from their tribe, the Indian warriors returned to Windsor Hall, and
+finding the family had escaped, seized upon old Giles as the victim on
+whom to wreak their vengeance. With the savage cruelty of their race,
+his tormentors had doomed him, not to sudden death, which would have
+been welcome to the miserable wretch, but to a slow and lingering
+torture.
+
+It would be too painful to dwell long upon the nature of the tortures
+thus inflicted upon their victims. With all their coarseness and
+rudeness of manner and life, the Indians had arrived at a refinement and
+skill in cruelty which the persecutors of the reformers in Europe might
+envy, but to which they had never attained. Among these, tearing the
+nails from the hands and feet, knocking out the teeth with a club,
+lacerating the flesh with rough, dull muscle and oyster-shells,
+inserting sharp splinters into the wounded flesh, and then firing them
+until the unhappy being is gradually roasted to death--these were among
+the tortures more frequently inflicted. From the threats and
+preparations of his captors, old Giles had reason to apprehend that the
+worst of these tortures he would soon be called upon to endure.
+
+There is, thank God, a period, when the burdens of this life become so
+grievous, that the prayer of the fabled faggot-binder may rise sincerely
+on the lips, and when death would indeed be a welcome friend--when it is
+even soothing to reflect that,
+
+    "We bear our heavy burdens but a journey,
+    Till death unloads us."
+
+Such was the period at which the wretched negro had now arrived. He
+listened, therefore, with patient composure to the fierce, threatening
+language of the warriors, which his former association with Manteo
+enabled him, when aided by their wild gesticulation, to comprehend. But
+it was far from the intention of the Indians to release him yet from his
+terrible existence. One of the braves approaching the poor helpless
+wretch with a small cord of catgut, such as was used by them for
+bow-strings, prepared to bind it tightly around his thumb, while the
+others gathering around in a circle waved their war-clubs high in air to
+inflict the painful bastinado. When old Giles saw the Indian approach,
+and fully comprehended his design, his heart sank within him at this new
+instrument of torture, and in despairing accents he groaned--
+
+"Kill me, kill me, but for de Lord's sake, massa, don't put dat horrid
+thing on de poor old nigga."
+
+Regardless of his cries, the powerful Indian adjusted the cord, and with
+might and main drew it so tightly around the thumb that it entered the
+flesh even to the bone, while the poor negro shrieked in agony. Then, to
+drown the cry, the other savages commencing a wild, rude chant, let
+their war-clubs descend upon their victim with such force that he
+fainted. Just at this moment the quick ears of the Indians caught the
+almost inaudible sound of approaching horsemen, and as they paused to
+satisfy themselves of the truth of their suspicions, Bacon and his
+little band of faithful followers appeared full in sight. Leaving their
+victim in a moment, the savages prepared to defend themselves from the
+assault of their intruders, and with the quickness of thought,
+concealing themselves behind the trees and undergrowth of the forest,
+they sent a shower of arrows into the unwary ranks of their adversaries.
+
+"By Jove, that had like to have been my death-stroke," cried Bacon, as
+an arrow directed full against his breast, glanced from a gilt button of
+his coat and fell harmless to the ground. But others of the party were
+not so fortunate as their leader. Several of the men, pierced by the
+poisoned arrows of the enemy, fell dead.
+
+Notwithstanding the success of this first charge of the Indians, Bacon
+and his party sustained the shock with coolness and intrepidity. Their
+gallant leader, himself careless of life or safety, led the charge, and
+on his powerful horse he was, like the royal hero to whom he had
+compared himself, ever seen in the thickest of the carnage. Well did he
+prove himself that day worthy of the confidence of his faithful
+followers.
+
+Nor loth were the Indians to return their charge. Although their party
+only amounted to about fifty, and Bacon's men numbered several hundred,
+yet was the idea of retreat abhorrent to their martial feelings.
+Screening themselves with comparative safety behind the large forest
+trees, or lying under the protection of the thick undergrowth, they kept
+up a constant attack with their arrows, and succeeded in effecting
+considerable loss to the whites, who, incommoded by their horses, or
+unaccustomed to this system of bush fighting, failed to produce a
+corresponding effect upon their savage foe.
+
+There was something in the religion of these simple sons of the forest
+which imparted intrepid boldness to their characters, unattainable by
+ordinary discipline. The material conception which they entertained of
+the spirit-world, where valour and heroism were the passports of
+admission, created a disregard for life such as no civilized man could
+well entertain. In that new land, to which death was but the threshold,
+their pursuits were the same in character, though greater in degree, as
+those in which they here engaged. There they would be welcomed by the
+brave warriors of a former day, and engage still in fierce contests with
+hostile tribes. There they would enjoy the delights of the chase through
+spirit forests, deeper and more gigantic than those through which they
+wandered in life. Theirs was the Valhalla to which the brave alone were
+admitted, and among whose martial habitants would continue the same
+emulation in battle, the same stoicism in suffering, as in their
+forest-world. Such was the character of their simple religion, which
+created in their breasts that heroism and fortitude, in danger or in
+pain, that has with one accord been attributed to them.
+
+But despite their valour and resolution, the contest, with such
+disparity of numbers, must needs be brief. Bacon pursued each advantage
+which he gained with relentless vigour, ever and anon cheering his
+followers, and crying out, as he rushed onward to the charge, "Don't let
+one of the bloody dogs escape. Remember, my gallant boys, the peace of
+your firesides and the lives and safety of your wives and children.
+Remember the brave men who have already fallen before the hand of the
+savage foe."
+
+Faithful to his injunction, the overwhelming power of the whites soon
+strewed the ground with the bodies of the brave savages. The few who
+remained, dispirited and despairing, fled through the forest from the
+irresistible charge of the enemy.
+
+Meantime the unfortunate Giles had recovered from the swoon into which
+he had fallen, and began to look wildly about him, as though in a dream.
+To the fact that the contending parties had been closely engaged, and
+that from this cause not a gun had been fired, the old negro probably
+owed his life. With the superstition of his race, the poor creature
+attributed this fortunate succour to a miraculous interposition of
+Providence in his behalf; and when he saw the last of his oppressors
+flying before the determined onslaught of the white men, he fervently
+cried,
+
+"Thank the Lord, for he done sent his angels to stop de lion's mouf, and
+to save de poor old nigger from dere hands."
+
+"Hallo, comrades," said Berkenhead, when he espied the poor old negro
+bound to the tree, "who have we here? This must be old Ochee[37]
+himself, whom the Lord has delivered into our hands. Hark ye," he
+added, proceeding to unbind him, "where do you come from?--or are you in
+reality the evil one, whom these infidel red-skins worship?"
+
+"Oh, no, Massa, I a'ant no evil sperrit. A sperrit hab not flesh and
+bones as you see me hab."
+
+"Nay," returned the coarse-hearted soldier, "that reasoning won't serve
+your purpose, for there is precious little flesh and blood about you,
+old man. The most you can lay claim to is skin and bones."
+
+Hansford, who had been standing a little distance off, was attracted by
+this conversation, and turning in the direction of the old negro, was
+much surprised to recognize, under such horrible circumstances, the
+quondam steward, butler and factotum of Windsor Hall. Nor was Giles'
+surprise less in meeting with Miss Virginia's "buck" in so secluded a
+spot. It was with difficulty that Hansford could prevent him from
+throwing his arms around his neck; but giving the old man a hearty shake
+of the hand, he asked him the story of his captivity, which Giles, with
+much importance, proceeded to relate. But he had scarcely begun his
+narrative, when the attention of the insurgents was attracted by the
+approach of two horsemen, who advanced towards them at a rapid rate, as
+though they had some important intelligence to communicate.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[37] The evil spirit, sometimes called Opitchi Manitou, and worshipped
+by the Indians.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+    "Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks,
+    Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast."
+                                      _Richard III._
+
+
+The new comers were Lawrence and Drummond, who, as will be recollected
+by the reader, were left in Jamestown to watch the proceedings of the
+Governor, and to convey to Bacon any needful intelligence concerning
+them. Although he had, in the first impulse of triumph after receiving
+his commission, confided fully in the promises of the vacillating
+Berkeley, yet, on reflection, Bacon did not rely very implicitly upon
+them. The Governor had once before broken his word in the affair of the
+parole, promising to grant the commission which he craved, upon
+condition of his confession of his former disloyal conduct and his
+promise to amend. Bacon was not the man to be twice deceived, and it did
+not therefore much surprise him to see the two patriots so soon after
+his departure from Jamestown, nor to hear the strange tidings which they
+had come to detail.
+
+"Why, how is this, General?" said Lawrence. "You have had bloody work
+already, it seems; and not without some loss to your own party."
+
+"Yes, there they lie," returned Bacon. "God rest their brave souls! But
+being dead, they yet speak--speak to us to avenge their death on the
+bloody savages who have slaughtered them, and to proclaim the insane
+policy of Berkeley in delaying our march against the foe. But what make
+you from Jamestown?"
+
+"Bad news or good, General, as you choose to take it," replied Lawrence.
+"Berkeley has dissolved the Assembly in a rage, because they supported
+you in your demand of yesterday, and has himself, with his crouching
+minions, retired to Gloucester."
+
+"To Gloucester!" cried Bacon. "That is indeed news. But what can the old
+dotard mean by such a movement?"
+
+"He has already made known his reasons," returned Lawrence. "He has
+cancelled your commission, and proclaimed you, and all engaged with you,
+as rebels and traitors."
+
+"Why, this is infamous!" said Bacon. "Is the old knave such an enemy to
+truth that it cannot live upon his lips for one short day? And who,
+pray, is rash enough to uphold him in his despotism, or base enough to
+screen him in his infamy?"
+
+"It was whispered as we left," said Drummond, "that a certain Colonel
+Henry Temple had avouched the loyalty of Gloucester, and prevailed upon
+the Governor to make his house his castle, during what he is pleased to
+term this unhappy rebellion."
+
+"And by my soul," said Bacon, fiercely, "I will teach this certain
+Colonel Henry Temple the hazard that he runs in thus abetting tyranny
+and villainy. If he would not have his house beat down over his ears, he
+were wise to withdraw his aid and support; else, if his house be a
+castle at all, it is like to be a castle in Spain."
+
+Hansford, who was an eager listener, as we may suppose, to the foregoing
+conversation, was alarmed at this determination of his impulsive leader.
+He knew too well the obstinate loyalty of Temple to doubt that he would
+resist at every hazard, rather than deliver his noble guest into the
+hands of his enemies. He felt assured, too, that if the report were
+true, Virginia had accompanied her father to Gloucester, and his very
+soul revolted at the idea of her being subjected to the disagreeable
+results which would flow from an attack upon Windsor Hall. The only
+chance of avoiding the difficulty, was to offer his own mediation, and
+in the event, which he foresaw, of Colonel Temple refusing to come to
+terms, he trusted that there was at least magnanimity enough left in the
+old Governor to induce him to seek some other refuge, rather than to
+subject his hospitable and loyal host to the consequences of his
+kindness. There was indeed some danger attending such a mission in the
+present inflamed state of Berkeley's mind. But this, Hansford held at
+naught. Hastily revolving in his mind these thoughts, he ventured to
+suggest to Bacon, that an attack upon Colonel Temple's house would
+result in the worst consequences to the cause of the patriots; that it
+would effect no good, as the Governor might again promise, and again
+recant--and, that it would be difficult to induce his followers to
+embark in an enterprise so foreign to the avowed object of the
+expedition, and against a man whose character was well known, and
+beloved by the people of the Colony.
+
+Bacon calmly heard him through, as though struck with the truth of the
+views he presented, and then added with a sarcastic smile, which stung
+Hansford to the quick, "and moreover, the sight of soldiers and of
+fire-arms might alarm the ladies."
+
+"And, if such a motive as that did influence my opinion," said Hansford,
+"I hope it was neither unworthy a soldier or a man."
+
+"Unworthy alike of both," replied Bacon, "of a soldier, because the will
+and command of his superior officer should be his only law--and of a
+man, because, in a cause affecting his rights and liberties, any
+sacrifice of feeling should be willingly and cheerfully made."
+
+"That sacrifice I now make," said Hansford, vainly endeavouring to
+repress his indignation, "in not retorting more harshly to your
+imputation. The time may yet come when no such sacrifice shall be
+required, and when none, I assure you, shall be made."
+
+"And, when it comes, young man," returned Bacon, haughtily, "be assured
+that I will not be backward in affording you an opportunity of defending
+yourself--meantime you are under my command--and will please remember
+that you are so. But, gentlemen," he continued, turning to the others,
+"what say you to our conduct in these circumstances. Shall we proceed to
+Powhatan, against the enemy of a country to which we are traitors, or
+shall we march on this mendacious old Knight, and once again wipe off
+the stigma which he has placed upon our names?"
+
+"I think," said Lawrence, after a pause of some moments, "that there is
+a good deal of truth in the views presented by Major Hansford. But,
+could not some middle course be adopted. I don't exactly see how it can
+be effected, but, if the Governor were met by remonstrance of his
+injustice, and informed of our determination to resist it as such, it
+seems to me that he would be forced to recant this last proclamation,
+and all would be well again."
+
+"And who think you would carry the remonstrance," said Bacon. "It would
+be about as wise to thrust your head in a lion's mouth, as to trust
+yourself in the hands of the old fanatic. I know not whom we could get
+to bear such a mission," he added, smiling, "unless our friend Ingram
+there, who having been accustomed to ropes in his youth, if report
+speaks true, need have no fear of them in age."[38]
+
+"In faith, General," replied the quondam rope-dancer, "I am only expert
+in managing the cable when it supports my feet. But I have never been
+able to perform the feat of dancing on nothing and holding on by my
+neck."
+
+"General Bacon," said Hansford, stepping forward, "I am willing to
+execute your mission to the Governor."
+
+"My dear boy," said Bacon, grasping him warmly by the hand, "forgive me
+for speaking so roughly to you just now, I am almost ready to cut my
+tongue out of my head for having said anything to wound your feelings.
+But damn that old treacherous fox, he inflamed me so, that I must have
+let out some of my bad humour or choked in retaining it."
+
+Hansford returned his grasp warmly, perhaps the more ready to forgive
+and forget, as he saw a prospect of attaining his object in protecting
+the family of his friend from harm.
+
+"But you shall not go," continued Bacon. "It were madness to venture
+within the clutch of the infuriated old madman."
+
+"Whatever were the danger," said Hansford, "this was my proposition, and
+on me devolves the peril, if peril there be in its execution. But there
+is really none. Colonel Temple, although a bigot in his loyalty, is the
+last person to violate the rites of hospitality or to despise a flag of
+truce. And Sir William Berkeley dare not disregard either whilst under
+his roof."
+
+"Well, so let it be then," said Bacon, "but I fear that you place too
+much reliance on the good faith of your old friend Temple. Believe me,
+that these Tories hold a doctrine in their political creed, very much
+akin to the Papal doctrine of intolerance. 'Faith towards heretics, is
+infidelity to religion.' But you must at least take some force with
+you."
+
+"I believe not," returned our hero, "the presence of an armed force
+would be an insuperable barrier to a reconciliation. I will only take my
+subaltern, Berkenhead, yonder, and that poor old negro, in whose
+liberation I sincerely rejoice. The first will be a companion, and in
+case of danger some protection; and the last, if you choose," he added
+smiling, "will be a make-peace between the political papist and the
+rebel heretic."
+
+"Well, God bless you, Hansford," said Bacon, with much warmth, "and
+above all, forget my haste and unkindness just now. We must learn to
+forgive like old Romans, if we would be valiant like them, and so
+
+    'When I am over-earnest with you, Hansford,
+    You'll think old Berkeley chides, and leave me so.'"
+
+"With all my heart, my noble General," returned Hansford, laughing, "and
+now for my mission--what shall I say on behalf of treason to his royal
+highness?"
+
+"Tell him," said Bacon, gravely, "that Nathaniel Bacon, by the grace of
+God, and the special trust and confidence of Sir William Berkeley,
+general-in-chief of the armies of Virginia, desires to know for what act
+of his, since such trust was reposed in him, he and his followers have
+been proclaimed as traitors to their king. Ask him for what reason it is
+that while pursuing the common enemies of the country--while attacking
+in their lairs the wolves and lions of the forest, I, myself, am
+mercilessly assaulted like a savage wild beast, by those whom it is my
+object to defend. Tell him that I require him to retract the
+proclamation he has issued without loss of time, and in the event of his
+refusal, I am ready to assert and defend the rights of freemen by the
+last arbiter between man and man. Lastly, say to him, that I will await
+his answer until two days from this time, and should it still prove
+unfavourable to my demands, then woe betide him."
+
+Charged with the purport of his mission, Hansford shook Bacon cordially
+by the hand, and proceeded to prepare for his journey. As he was going
+to inform his comrade, old Lawrence gently tapped him on the shoulder,
+and whispered, "Look ye, Tom, I like not the appearance of that fellow
+Berkenhead."
+
+"He is faithful, I believe," said Hansford, in the same tone; "a little
+rough and free spoken, perhaps, but I do not doubt his fidelity."
+
+"I would I were of the same mind," returned his companion; "but if ever
+the devil set his mark upon a man's face that he might know him on the
+resurrection morning, he did so on that crop-eared Puritan. Tell me,
+aint he the same fellow that got his freedom and two hundred pounds for
+revealing the insurrection of sixty-two?"
+
+"The same, I believe," said Hansford, carelessly; "but what of that?"
+
+"Why simply this," said the honest old cavalier, "that faith is like a
+walking-cane. Break it once and you may glue it so that the fracture can
+scarcely be seen by the naked eye; but it will break in the same place
+if there be a strain upon it."
+
+"I hope you are mistaken," said Hansford; "but I thank you for your
+warning, and will not disregard it. I will be on my guard."
+
+"Here, Lawrence," cried Bacon, "what private message are you sending to
+the Governor, that you must needs be delaying our ambassador? We have a
+sad duty to perform. These brave men, who have fallen in our cause, must
+not be suffered to lie a prey to vultures. Let them be buried as becomes
+brave soldiers, who have died right bravely with their harness on. I
+would there were some one here who could perform the rites of
+burial--but their requiem shall be sung with our song of triumph. Peace
+to their souls! Comrades, prepare their grave, and pay due honour to
+their memory by discharging a volley of musketry over them. I wot they
+well loved the sound while living--nor will they sleep less sweetly for
+it now."
+
+By such language, and such real or affected interest in the fate of
+those who followed his career, Nathaniel Bacon won the affection of his
+soldiery. Never was there a leader, even in the larger theatres of
+action, more sincerely beloved and worshipped--and to this may be
+attributed in a great degree the wonderful power which he possessed over
+the minds of his followers--moulding their opinions in strict
+conformity with his own; breathing into them something of the ardent
+heroism which inspired his own soul, and making them thus the willing
+and subservient instruments of his own ambitious designs.
+
+With sad countenances the soldiers proceeded to obey the order of their
+general. Scooping with their swords and bayonets a shallow grave in the
+soft virgin soil of the forest, they committed the bodies of their
+comrades to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to
+dust--and as they screened their ashes forever from the light of day,
+the "aisles of the dim woods" echoed back the loud roar of the unheard,
+unheeded honour which they paid to the memory of the dead.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[38] He was in truth a rope-dancer in his early life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+    "But the poor dog, in life the dearest friend,
+    The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
+    Whose honest heart is still his master's own;
+    Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
+    Unhonoured falls, unnoticed all his worth,
+    Denied in heaven the soul he had on earth."
+                                          _Byron._
+
+
+When the last sad rites of burial had been performed over the grave of
+those who had fallen, Hansford, accompanied by Berkenhead and old Giles,
+proceeded to the discharge of the trust which had been reposed in him.
+It was indeed a mission fraught with the most important consequences to
+the cause of the insurgents, to the family at Windsor Hall, and to
+himself personally. It required both a cool head and a brave heart to
+succeed in its execution. Hansford well knew that the first burst of
+rage from the old Governor, on hearing the bold proposition of the
+rebels, would be dangerous, if not fatal to himself; and with all the
+native boldness of his character, it would be unnatural if he failed to
+feel the greatest anxiety for the result. But even if _he_ escaped the
+vengeance of Berkeley, he feared the impulsive nature of Bacon, in the
+event of the refusal of Sir William to comply with his demands, would
+drive him into excesses ruinous to his cause, and dangerous alike to the
+innocent and the guilty. If Temple's obstinacy and chivalry persisted in
+giving refuge to the Governor, what, he thought, might be the
+consequences to her, whose interest and whose safety he held so deeply
+at heart! Thus the statesman, the lover, and the individual, each had a
+peculiar interest in the result, and Hansford felt like a wise man the
+heavy responsibility he had incurred, although he resolved to encounter
+and discharge it like a bold one.
+
+It was thus, with a heavy heart that he proceeded on his way, and buried
+in these reflections he maintained a moody silence, little regarding the
+presence of his two companions. Old Giles, too, had his own food for
+reflection, and vouchsafed only monosyllables in reply to the questions
+and observations of the loquacious Berkenhead. But the soldier was not
+to be repulsed by the indifference of the one, or the laconic answers of
+the other of his companions. Finding it impossible to engage in
+conversation, he contented himself with soliloquy, and in a low,
+muttering voice, as if to himself, but intended as well for the ears of
+his commander, he began an elaborate comparison of the army of Cromwell,
+in which he had served, and the army of the Virginia insurgents.
+
+"To be sure, they both fought for liberty, but after that there is
+monstrous little likeness between 'em. Old Noll was always acting
+himself, and laying it all to Providence when he was done; while General
+Bacon, cavorting round, first after the Indians and then after the
+Governor, seems hardly to know what he is about, and yet, I believe,
+trusts in Providence at last more than Noll, with all his religion; and,
+faith, it seems to me it took more religion to do him than most any man
+I ever see. First psalm singing, and then fighting, and then psalm
+singing agen, and then more fighting--for all the world like a brick
+house with mortar stuck between. But I trow that it was the fighting
+that made the house stand, after all. And yet I believe, for all the
+saints used to nickname me a sinner, and call me one of the spawn of the
+beast, because I would get tired of the Word sometimes--and, by the same
+token, old brother Purge-the-temple Whithead had a whole dictionary of
+words, much less the one--yet, for all come and gone, I believe I would
+rather hear a long psalm, than to be doomed to solitary confinement to
+my own thoughts, as I am here."
+
+"And so you have served in old Noll's army, as you call it," said
+Hansford, smiling in spite of himself, and willing to indulge the old
+Oliverian with some little notice.
+
+"Oh, yes, Major," replied Berkenhead, delighted to have gained an
+auditor at last; "and a rare service it was too. A little too much of
+what they called the church militant, and the like, for me; but for all
+that the fellows fought like devils, if they did live like saints--and,
+what was rare to me, they did not deal the less lightly with their
+swords for the fervour of their prayers, nor pray the less fervently for
+their enemies after they had raked them with their fire, or hacked them
+to pieces with their swords. 'Faith, an if there had been many more
+battles like Dunbar and Worcester, they had as well have blotted that
+text from their Bible, for precious few enemies did they have to pray
+for after that."
+
+"You did not agree with these zealots in religion, then," said Hansford.
+"Prythee, friend, of what sect of Christians are you a member?"
+
+"Well, Major, to speak the truth and shame the devil, as they say, my
+religion has pretty much gone with my sword. As a soldier must change
+his coat whenever he changes his service, so I have thought he should
+make his faith--the robe of his righteousness, as they call it--adapt
+itself to that of his employer."
+
+"The cloak of his hypocrisy, you mean," said Hansford, indignantly. "I
+like not this scoffing profanity, and must hear no more of it. He who is
+not true to his God is of a bad material for a patriot. But tell me," he
+added, seeing that the man seemed sufficiently rebuked, "how came you to
+this colony?"
+
+"Simply because I could not stay in England," replied Berkenhead. "Mine
+has been a hard lot, Major; for I never got what I wanted in this life.
+If I was predestined for anything, as old Purge-the-temple used to say
+we all were, it seems to me it was to be always on the losing side. When
+I fought for freedom in England, I gained bondage in Virginia for my
+pains; and when I refused to seek my freedom, and betrayed my comrades
+in the insurrection of sixty-two, lo, and behold! I was released from
+bondage for my reward. What I will gain or lose by this present
+movement, I don't know; but I have been an unlucky adventurer thus far."
+
+"I have heard of your behaviour in sixty-two," said Hansford, "but
+whether such conduct be laudable or censurable, depends very much upon
+the motive that prompted you to it. You came to this country then as an
+indented servant?"
+
+"Yes, sold, your honour, for the thirty pieces of silver, like Joseph
+was sold into Egypt by his brethren."
+
+"I suspect that the resemblance between yourself and that eminent
+patriarch ceased with the sale."
+
+"It is not for me to say, your honour. But in the present unsettled
+state of affairs, who knows who may be made second only to Pharaoh over
+all Egypt? I wot well who will be our Pharaoh, if we gain our point; and
+I have done the state some service, and may yet do her more."
+
+"By treachery to your comrades, I suppose," said Hansford, disgusted
+with the conceit and self-complacency of the man.
+
+"Now, look ye here, Major, if I was disposed to be touchy, I might take
+exception at that remark. But I have seen too much of life to fly off at
+the first word. The axe that flies from the helve at the first stroke,
+may be sharp as a grindstone can make it, but it will never cut a tree
+down for all that."
+
+"And if you were to fly off, as you call it, at the first or the last
+word," said Hansford, haughtily, "you would only get a sound beating for
+your pains. How dare you speak thus to your superior, you insolent
+knave!"
+
+"No insolence, Major," said Berkenhead, sulkily; "but for the matter of
+speaking against your honour, I have seen my betters silenced in their
+turn, by their superiors."
+
+"Silence, slave!" cried Hansford, his face flushing with indignation at
+this allusion to his interview with Bacon, which he had hoped, till now,
+had been unheard by the soldiers. "But come," he added, reflecting on
+the imprudence of losing his only friend and ally in this perilous
+adventure, "you are a saucy knave, but I suppose I must e'en bear with
+you for the present. We cannot be far from Windsor Hall, I should
+think."
+
+"About two miles, as I take it, Major," said Berkenhead, in a more
+respectful manner. "I used to live in Gloucester, not far from the hall,
+and many is the time I have followed my master through these old woods
+in a deer chase. Yes, there is Manteo's clearing, just two miles from
+the hall."
+
+Scarcely were the words out of the speaker's mouth, when, to the
+surprise of the little party, a large dog of the St. Bernard's breed
+leaped from a thicket near them, and bounded towards Hansford.
+
+"Brest ef it a'ant old Nestor," said Giles, whose tongue had at length
+been loosened by the sight of the family favourite, and he stooped down
+as he spoke to pat the dog upon the head. But Nestor's object was
+clearly not to be caressed. Frisking about in a most extraordinary
+manner, now wagging his tail, now holding it between his legs, now
+bounding a few steps in front of Hansford's horse, and anon crouching by
+his side and whining most piteously, he at length completed his
+eccentric movements by standing erect upon his hind legs and placing his
+fore feet against the breast of his old master. Struck with this
+singular conduct, Hansford, reining in his horse, cried out, "The poor
+dog must be mad. Down, Nestor, down I tell you!"
+
+Well was it for our hero that the faithful animal refused to obey, for
+just at that moment an arrow was heard whizzing through the air, and the
+noble dog fell transfixed through the neck with the poisoned missile,
+which else had pierced Hansford's heart.[39] The alarm caused by so
+sudden and unexpected an attack had not passed off, before another arrow
+was buried deep in our hero's shoulder. But quick as were the movements
+of the attacking party, the trained eye of Berkenhead caught a glimpse
+of the tall form of an Indian as it vanished behind a large oak tree,
+about twenty yards from where they stood. The soldier levelled his
+carbine, and as Manteo (for the reader has probably already conjectured
+that it was he) again emerged from his hiding place to renew the attack,
+he discharged his piece with deadly aim and effect. With a wild yell of
+horror, the young warrior sprang high in the air, and fell lifeless to
+the ground.
+
+Berkenhead was about to rush forward towards his victim, when Hansford,
+who still retained his seat on the horse, though faint from pain and
+loss of blood, cried out, "Caution, caution, for God's sake, there are
+more of the bloody villains about." But after a few moments' pause, the
+apprehension of a further attack passed away, and the soldier and Giles
+repaired to the spot. And there in the cold embrace of death, lay the
+brave young Indian, his painted visage reddened yet more by the
+life-blood which still flowed from his wound. His right hand still
+grasped the bow-string, as in his last effort to discharge the fatal
+arrow. A haughty smile curled his lip even in the moment in which the
+soul had fled, as if in that last struggle his brave young heart
+despised the pang of death itself.
+
+Gazing at him for a moment, yet long enough for old Giles to recognize
+the features of Manteo in the bloody corpse, they returned to Hansford,
+whose condition indeed required their immediate assistance. Drawing out
+the arrow, and staunching the blood as well as they could with his
+scarf, Berkenhead bandaged it tightly, and although still in great pain,
+the wounded man was enabled slowly to continue his journey. A ride of
+about half an hour brought the little party to the door of Windsor
+Hall.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[39] An incident somewhat similar to this is on record as having
+actually occurred.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+                  "I'll tell thee truth--
+    Too oft a stranger to the royal ear,
+    But far more wholesome than the honeyed lies
+    That fawning flatterers offer."
+                        _Any Port in a Storm._
+
+
+Brief as was the time which had elapsed, the old hall presented a
+different appearance to Hansford, from that which it maintained when he
+last left it under such disheartening circumstances. The notable
+mistress of the mansion had spared no pains to prepare for the reception
+of her honoured guest; and, although she took occasion to complain to
+her good husband of his inconsiderate conduct, in foisting all these
+strangers upon her at once, yet she inwardly rejoiced at the opportunity
+it presented for a display of her admirable housewifery. Indeed, the
+ease-loving old Colonel almost repented of his hospitality, amid the
+bustle and hurry, the scolding of servants, and the general bad humour
+which were all necessary incidents to the good dame's preparation.
+Having finally "brought things to something like rights," as she
+expressed it, her next care was to provide for the entertainment of her
+distinguished guest, which to the mind of the benevolent old lady,
+consisted not in sparkling conversation, or sage counsels, (then, alas!
+much needed by the Governor,) but in spreading a table loaded with a
+superabundance of delicacies to tempt his palate, and cause him to
+forget his troubles. It was a favourite saying of hers, caught up most
+probably in her early life, during the civil war in England, that if the
+stomach was well garrisoned with food, the heart would never capitulate
+to sorrow.
+
+But the truth of this apothegm was not sustained in the present
+instance. Her hospitable efforts, even when united with the genial good
+humour and kindness of her husband were utterly unavailing to dispel the
+gloom which hung over the inmates of Windsor Hall. Sir William Berkeley
+was himself dejected and sad, and communicated his own dejection to all
+around him. Indeed, since his arrival at the Hall, he had found good
+reason to repent his haste in denouncing the popular and gifted young
+insurgent. The pledge made by Colonel Temple of the loyalty of the
+people of Gloucester, had not been redeemed--at least so far as an
+active support of the Governor was concerned. Berkeley's reception by
+them was cold and unpromising. The enthusiasm which he had hoped to
+inspire no where prevailed, and the old man felt himself deserted by
+those whose zealous co-operation he had been led to anticipate. It was
+true that they asserted in the strongest terms their professions of
+loyal devotion, and their willingness to quell the first symptoms of
+rebellion, but they failed to see anything in the conduct of Bacon to
+justify the harsh measures of Berkeley towards him and his followers.
+"Lip-service--lip-service," said the old Governor, sorrowfully, as their
+decision was communicated to him, "they draw near to me with their
+mouth, and honour me with their lips, but their heart is far from me."
+But, notwithstanding his disappointment, nothing could shake the proud
+spirit of Berkeley in his inflexible resolution, to resist any
+encroachments on his prerogative; and, so providing his few followers
+with arms from the adjacent fort on York River, he prepared to maintain
+his power and his dignity by the sword.
+
+Such was the state of things on the evening that Thomas Hansford and his
+companions arrived at Windsor Hall. The intelligence of their arrival
+created much excitement, and the inmates of the mansion differed greatly
+in their opinions as to the intention of the young rebel. Poor Mrs.
+Temple, in whose mind fear always predominated over every other feeling,
+felt assured that Hansford had come, attended by another "ruffian,"
+forcibly to abduct Virginia from her home--and a violent fit of
+hysterics was the result of her suspicions. Virginia herself,
+vacillating between hope and fear, trusted, in the simplicity of her
+young, girlish heart, that her lover had repented of his grievous error,
+and had come to claim her love, and to sue to the Governor for pardon.
+Sir William Berkeley saw in the mission of Hansford, a faint hope that
+the rebels, alarmed by his late proclamation, had determined to return
+to their allegiance, and that Hansford was the bearer of a proposition
+to this effect, imploring at the same time the clemency and pardon of
+the government, against which they had so grievously offended.
+
+"And they shall receive mercy, too, at my hands, "said the old knight,
+as a tear glistened in his eye. "They have learned to fear the power of
+the government, and to respect its justice, and they shall now learn to
+love its merciful clemency. God forbid, that I should chasten my
+repenting people, except as children, for their good."
+
+"Not so fast, my honoured Governor," said Philip Ludwell, who, with the
+other attendants of Berkeley, had gathered around him in the porch; "you
+may be mistaken in your opinion. I believe--I know--that your wish is
+father to the thought in this matter. But look at the resolution and
+determined bearing of that young man. Is his the face or the bearing of
+a suppliant?"
+
+Ludwell was right. The noble countenance of Hansford, always expressive,
+though sufficiently respectful to the presence which he was about to
+enter, indicated any thing rather than tame submission. His face was
+very pale, and his lip quivered for a moment as he approached the
+anxious crowd of loyalists, who remained standing in the porch, but it
+was at once firmly compressed by the strength of resolution. As he
+advanced, he raised his hat and profoundly saluted the Governor, and
+then drawing himself up to his full height, he stood silently awaiting
+some one to speak. Colonel Temple halted a moment between his natural
+kindness for his friend and his respect for the presence of Sir William
+Berkeley. The first feeling prompted him to rush up to Hansford, and
+greeting him as of old, to give him a cordial welcome to the hall--but
+the latter feeling prevailed. Without advancing, then, he said in a
+tone, in which assumed displeasure strove in vain to overcome his native
+benevolence--
+
+"To what cause am I to attribute this unexpected visit of Mr. Hansford?"
+
+"My business is with Sir William Berkeley," replied Hansford,
+respectfully, "and I presume I am not mistaken in supposing that I am
+now in his presence."
+
+"And what would you have from me young man," said Berkeley, coldly;
+"your late career has estranged you and some of your friends so entirely
+from their Governor, that I feel much honoured by this evidence of your
+returning affection."
+
+"Both I and my friends, as far as I may speak for them," returned
+Hansford, in the same calm tone, "have ever been ready and anxious to
+show our devotion to our country and its rulers, and our present career
+to which your excellency has been pleased to allude, is in confirmation
+of the fact. That we have unwittingly fallen under your displeasure,
+sir, I am painfully aware. To ascertain the cause of that displeasure is
+my reason for this intrusion."
+
+"The cause, young man," said Berkeley, "is to be found in your own
+conduct, for which, may I hope, you have come for pardon?"
+
+"I regret to say that you are mistaken in your conjecture," replied
+Hansford. "As it is impossible that our conduct could have invoked your
+displeasure, so it is equally impossible that we should sue for pardon
+for an offence which we have never committed."
+
+"And, prythee, what then is your worshipful pleasure, fair sir," said
+Berkeley, ironically; "perhaps, in the abundance of your mercy, you have
+come to grant pardon, if you do not desire it. Nay!" he exclaimed,
+seeing Hansford shake his head; "then, peradventure, you would ask me to
+abdicate my government in favour of young Cromwell. I beg pardon--young
+Bacon, I should say--the similarity of their views is so striking, that
+as my memory is but a poor one, I sometimes confound their names. Well!
+any thing in reason. Nay, again!--well then, I am at a loss to
+conjecture, and you must yourself explain the object of your visit."
+
+"I would fain convey my instructions to Sir William Berkeley's private
+ear," said Hansford, unmoved by the irony of the old knight.
+
+"Oh pardon me, fair sir," said Berkeley; "yet, in this I _must_ crave
+your pardon, indeed. A sovereign would never wittingly trust himself
+alone with a rebel, and neither will I, though only an obscure colonial
+Governor. There are none but loyal ears here, and I trust Mr. Hansford
+has no tidings which can offend them."
+
+"I am sure," said Hansford, in reply, "that Sir William Berkeley does
+not for a moment suspect that I desired to see him in private from any
+sinister or treasonable motive."
+
+"I know, sir," said Berkeley, angrily, "that you have proved yourself a
+traitor, and, therefore, I have the best reason for suspecting you of
+treasonable designs. But I have no time--no disposition to dally with
+you thus. Tell me, what new treason, that my old ears are yet strangers
+to, I am yet doomed to hear?"
+
+"My instructions are soon told," said Hansford, repressing his
+indignation. "General Nathaniel Bacon, by virtue of your own commission,
+Commander-in-chief of the forces of Virginia, desires to know, and has
+directed me to inquire, for what cause you have issued a proclamation
+declaring both him and his followers traitors to their country and
+king?"
+
+Berkeley stood the shock much better than Hansford expected. His face
+flushed for a moment, but only for a moment, as he replied,--
+
+"This is certainly an unusual demand of a rebel; but sir, as I have
+nothing to fear from an exposure of my reasons, I will reply, that
+Nathaniel Bacon is now in arms against the government of Virginia."
+
+"Not unless the government of Virginia be allied with the Indians,
+against whom he is marching," said Hansford, calmly.
+
+"Aye, but it is well known," returned Berkeley, "that he has covert
+views of his own to attain, under pretext of this expedition against the
+Indians."
+
+"Why, then," replied Hansford, "if they are covert from his own
+followers, proclaim them traitors with himself; or, if covert from the
+government, how can you ascertain that they are treasonable? But, above
+all, if you suspected such traitorous designs, why, by your commission,
+elevate him to a position in which he may be able to execute them with
+success?"
+
+"'Fore God, gentlemen, this is the most barefaced insolence that I have
+ever heard. For yourself, young man, out of your own mouth will I judge
+you, and convict you of treason; and for your preceptor--whose lessons,
+I doubt not, you repeat by rote--you may tell him that his commission is
+null and void, because obtained by force and arms."
+
+"I had not expected to hear Sir William Berkeley make such an
+acknowledgment," returned Hansford, undauntedly. "You yourself declared
+that the commission was not given from fear of threats; and even if this
+were not so, the argument would scarce avail--for on what compulsion
+was it that your signature appears in a letter to his majesty, warmly
+approving the conduct of General Bacon, and commending him for his zeal,
+talents and patriotism?"[40]
+
+"Now, by my knighthood," said Berkeley, stung by this last unanswerable
+argument, "I will not be bearded thus by an insolent, braggart boy.
+Seize him!" he cried, turning to Bernard and Ludwell, who stood nearest
+him. "He is my prisoner, and as an example to his vile confederates, he
+shall hang in half an hour, until his traitorous tongue has stopped its
+vile wagging."
+
+Hansford made no attempt to escape, but, as the two men approached to
+disarm and bind him, he fixed his fine blue eyes full upon Colonel
+Temple, and said, mildly,
+
+"Shall this be so? Though Sir William Berkeley should fail to respect my
+position, as the bearer of a peaceable message from General Bacon, I
+trust that the rites of hospitality may not be violated, even in my
+humble person."
+
+Colonel Temple was much embarrassed. Notwithstanding the recent conduct
+of Hansford had alienated him to a great degree, he still entertained a
+strong affection for his boy--nor could he willingly see him suffer a
+wrong when he had thus so confidingly trusted to his generosity. But,
+apart from his special interest in Hansford, the old Virginian had a
+religious regard for the sacred character of a guest, which he could
+never forget. And yet, his blind reverence for authority--the bigoted
+loyalty which has always made the English people so cautious in
+resistance to oppression, and which retarded indeed our own colonial
+revolution--made him unwilling to oppose his character of host to the
+authority of the Governor. He looked first at Sir William Berkeley, and
+his resolution was made; he turned to Hansford, and as he saw his noble
+boy standing resolutely there, without a friend to aid him, it wavered.
+The poor old gentleman was sadly perplexed, but, after a brief struggle,
+his true, generous heart conquered, and he said, turning to Sir William:
+
+"My honoured sir, I trust you will not let this matter proceed any
+further here. My house, my life, my all, is at the service of the king
+and of his representative; but I question how far we are warranted in
+proceeding to extremities with this youth, seeing that although he is
+rather froward and pert in his manners, he may yet mean well after all."
+
+"Experience should have taught me," replied Berkeley, coldly, for his
+evil genius was now thoroughly aroused, "not to place too much
+confidence in the loyalty of the people of Gloucester. If Colonel
+Temple's resolution to aid the crumbling power of the government has
+wavered at the sight of a malapert and rebellious boy, I had better
+relieve him of my presence, which must needs have become irksome to
+him."
+
+"Nay, Sir William," returned Temple, reddening at the imputation, "you
+shall not take my language thus. Let the youth speak for himself; if he
+breathes a word of treason, his blood be on his own head--my hand nor
+voice shall be raised to save him. But I am unable to construe any thing
+which he has yet said as treasonable." Then turning to Hansford, he
+added, "speak, Mr. Hansford, plainly and frankly. What was your object
+in thus coming? Were you sent by General Bacon, or did you come
+voluntarily?"
+
+"Both," replied Hansford, with a full appreciation of the old man's
+unfortunate position. "It was my proposition that some officer of the
+army should wait upon the Governor, and ascertain the truth of his
+rumoured proclamation. I volunteered to discharge the duty in person."
+
+"And in the event of your finding it to be true," said Berkeley,
+haughtily, "what course did you then intend to pursue?"
+
+This was a dangerous question; for Hansford knew that to express the
+design of the insurgents in such an event, would be little less than a
+confession of treason. But he had a bold heart, and without hesitation,
+but still maintaining his respectful manner, he replied,--
+
+"I might evade an answer to your question, by saying, that it would then
+be time enough to consider and determine our course. But I scorn to do
+so, even when my safety is endangered. I answer candidly then, that in
+such an event the worst consequences to the country and to yourself
+would ensue. It was to prevent these consequences, and as far as I could
+to intercede in restoring peace and quiet to our distracted colony, that
+I came to implore you to withdraw this proclamation. Otherwise, sir, the
+sword of the avenger is behind you, and within two days from this time
+you will be compelled once more to yield to a current that you cannot
+resist. Comply with my request, and peace and harmony will once more
+prevail; refuse, and let who will triumph, the unhappy colony will be
+involved in all the horrors of civil war."
+
+There was nothing boastful in the manner of Hansford, as he uttered
+these words. On the contrary, his whole bearing, while it showed
+inflexible determination, attested his sincerity in the wish that the
+Governor, for the good of the country, would yield to the suggestion.
+Nor did Sir William Berkeley, in spite of his indignation, fail to see
+the force and wisdom of the views presented; but he had too much pride
+to acknowledge it to an inferior.
+
+"Now, by my troth," he cried, "if this be not treason, I am at a loss to
+define the term. I should think this would satisfy even your scepticism,
+Colonel Temple; for it seems we must consult you in regard to our course
+while under your roof. You would scarcely consent, I trust, to a
+self-convicted traitor going at large."
+
+"Of course you act in the premises, according to your own judgment,"
+replied Temple, coldly, for he was justly offended at the overbearing
+manner of the incensed old Governor, "but since you have appealed to me
+for my opinion, I will e'en make bold to say, that as this young man
+came in the character of an intercessor, you might well be satisfied
+with his parole. I will myself be surety for his truth."
+
+"Parole, forsooth, and do you not think I have had enough of paroles
+from these rebel scoundrels--zounds, their faith is like an egg-shell,
+it is made to be broken."
+
+"With my sincere thanks to my noble friend," said Hansford, "for his
+obliging offer, I would not accept it if I could. Unconscious of having
+done any thing to warrant this detention, I am not willing to
+acknowledge its justice, by submitting to a qualified imprisonment."
+
+"It is well," said Berkeley, haughtily; "we will see whether your pride
+is proof against an ignominious death. Disarm him and hold him in close
+custody until my farther pleasure shall be known."
+
+As he said this, Hansford was disarmed, and led away under a strong
+guard to the apartment which Colonel Temple reluctantly designated as
+the place of his confinement.
+
+Meantime Berkenhead had remained at the gate, guarded by two of the
+soldiers of the Governor; while old Giles, with a light heart, had found
+his way back to his old stand by the kitchen door, and was detailing to
+his astonished cronies the unlucky ventures, and the providential
+deliverance, which he had experienced. But we must forbear entering into
+a detailed account of the old man's sermon, merely contenting ourselves
+with announcing, that such was the effect produced, that at the next
+baptizing day, old Elder Snivel was refreshed by a perfect pentecost of
+converts, who attributed their "new birf" to the wrestling of "brudder
+Giles."
+
+We return to Berkenhead, who, at the command of Col. Ludwell, was
+escorted, under the guard before mentioned, into the presence of Sir
+William Berkeley. The dogged and insolent demeanour of the man was even
+more displeasing to the Governor than the quiet and resolute manner of
+Hansford, and in a loud, threatening voice, he cried,
+
+"Here comes another hemp-pulling knave. 'Fore God, the colony will have
+to give up the cultivation of tobacco, and engage in raising hemp, for
+we are like to have some demand for it. Hark ye, sir knave--do you know
+the nature of the message which you have aided in bearing from the
+traitor Bacon to myself?"
+
+"Not I, your honour--no more than my carbine knows whether it is loaded
+or not. It's little the General takes an old soldier like me into his
+counsels; but I only know it is my duty to obey, if I were sent to the
+devil with a message," and the villain looked archly at the Governor.
+
+"Your language is something of the most insolent," said Sir William.
+"But tell me instantly, did you have no conversation with Major Hansford
+on your way hither, and if so, what was it?"
+
+"Little else than abuse, your honour," returned Berkenhead, "and a
+threat that I would be beat over the head if I didn't hold my tongue;
+and as I didn't care to converse at such a disadvantage, I was e'en
+content to keep my own counsel for the rest of the way."
+
+"Do you, or do you not, consider Bacon and his followers to be engaged
+in rebellion against the government?"
+
+"Rebellion, your honour!" cried the renegade. "Why, was it not your
+honour's self that sent us after these salvages? An' I thought there was
+any other design afloat, I would soon show them who was the rebel. It is
+not the first time that I have done the State some service by betraying
+treason."
+
+"Look ye," said the Governor, eyeing the fellow keenly, "if I mistake
+not, you are an old acquaintance. Is your name Berkenhead?"
+
+"The same, at your honour's service."
+
+"And didn't you betray the servile plot of 1662, and get your liberty
+and a reward for it?"
+
+"Yes, your honour, but I wouldn't have you think that it was for the
+reward I did it?"
+
+"Oh, never mind your motives. If you are Judas, you are welcome to your
+thirty pieces of silver," said the Governor, with a sneer of contempt.
+"But to make the analogy complete, you should be hanged for your
+service."
+
+"No, faith," said the shrewd villain, quickly. "Judas hanged himself,
+and it would be long ere ever I sought the apostle's elder tree.[41] And
+besides, his was the price of innocent blood, and mine was not. Look at
+my hand, your honour, and you will see what kind of blood I shed."
+
+Berkeley looked at the fellow's hand, and saw it stained with the
+crimson life-blood of the young Indian. With a thrill of horror, he
+cried, "What blood is that, you infernal villain?"
+
+"Only fresh from the veins of one of these painted red-skins," returned
+Berkenhead. "And red enough he was when I left him; but, forsooth, he
+reckons that the paint cost him full dear. He left his mark on Major
+Hansford, though, before he left."
+
+"Where did this happen?" said Berkeley, astonished.
+
+"Oh, not far from here. The red devil was a friend at the hall here,
+too, or as much so as their bloody hearts will let any of them be.
+Colonel Temple, there, knows him, and I have seen him when I lived in
+Gloucester. A fine looking fellow, too; and if his skin and his heart
+had been both white, there would have been few better and braver
+dare-devils than young Manteo."
+
+As he pronounced the name, a wild shriek rent the air, and the
+distracted Mamalis rushed into the porch. Her long hair was all
+dishevelled and flying loosely over her shoulders, her eye was that of a
+maniac in his fury, and tossing her bare arms aloft, she shrieked, in a
+wild, harsh voice,
+
+"And who are you, that dare to spill the blood of kings? Look to it that
+your own flows not less freely in your veins."
+
+Berkenhead turned pale with fright, and shrinking from the enraged girl,
+muttered, "the devil!"--while Temple, in a low voice, whispered to the
+Governor the necessary explanation, "She is his sister."
+
+"Yes, his sister!" cried the girl, wildly, for she had overheard the
+words. "His only sister!--and my blood now flows in no veins but my own.
+But the stream runs more fiercely as the channel is more narrow. Look to
+it--look to it!" And, with another wild shriek, the maddened girl rushed
+again into the house. It required all the tender care of Virginia Temple
+to pacify the poor creature. She reasoned, she prayed, she endeavoured
+to console her; but her reasons, her prayers, her sweet words of
+consolation, were all lost upon the heart of the Indian maiden, who
+nourished but one fearful, fatal idea--revenge!
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[40] This was indeed true, and renders the conduct of Berkeley entirely
+inexplicable.
+
+[41] The name given to the tree on which Judas hanged himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+    "His flight was madness."
+                      _Macbeth._
+
+
+Yes, Virginia! She who had so much reason for consolation herself,
+forgot her own sorrows for the time, in administering the oil of
+consolation to the poor, wounded, broken-hearted savage girl. She had
+been sitting at the window of the little parlour, where she could
+witness the whole scene, and hear the whole interview between the
+Governor and Hansford; and oh! how her heart had sunk within her as she
+heard the harsh sentence of the stern old knight, which condemned her
+noble, friendless lover to imprisonment, perhaps to death; and yet, a
+maiden modesty restrained her from yielding to the impulse of the
+moment, to throw herself at the feet of Berkeley, confess her love, and
+implore his pardon. Alas! ill-fated maiden, it would have been in
+vain--as she too truly, too fatally discovered afterwards.
+
+The extraordinary appearance and conduct of Mamalis broke up for the
+present any further conference with Berkenhead, who--his mendacity
+having established his innocence in the minds of the loyalists--walked
+off with a swaggering gait, rather elated than otherwise with the result
+of his interview. Alfred Bernard followed him until they turned an angle
+of the house, and stood beneath the shade of one of the broad oaks,
+which spread its protecting branches over the yard.
+
+Meantime the Governor, with such of his council as had attended him to
+Windsor Hall, retired to the study of the old Colonel, which had been
+fitted up both for the chamber of his most distinguished guest and for
+the deliberations of the council. The subject which now engaged their
+attention was one of more importance than any that had ever come before
+them since the commencement of the dissensions in Virginia. The mission
+of Hansford, while it had failed of producing the effect which he so
+ardently desired, had, notwithstanding, made a strong impression upon
+the mind of the Governor. He saw too plainly that it would be vain to
+resist the attack of Bacon, at the head of five hundred men, among whom
+were to be ranked the very chivalry of Virginia; while his own force
+consisted merely of his faithful adherents in the council, and about
+fifty mercenary troops, whose sympathies with the insurgents were
+strongly suspected.
+
+"I see," said the old man, gloomily, as he took his seat at the
+council-board, "that I must seek some other refuge. I am hunted like a
+wild beast from place to place, through a country that was once my own,
+and by those who were once the loving subjects of my king."
+
+"Remain here!" said the impulsive old Temple. "The people of Gloucester
+will yet rally around your standard, when they see open treason is
+contemplated; and should they still refuse, zounds, we may yet offer
+resistance with my servants and slaves."
+
+"My dear friend," said Berkeley, sorrowfully, "if all Virginians were
+like yourself, there would have been no rebellion--there would have been
+no difficulty in suppressing one, if attempted. But alas! the loyalty of
+the people of Gloucester has already been weighed in the balance and
+found wanting. No, I have acted hastily, foolishly, blindly. I have
+warmed this serpent into life by my forbearance and indulgence, and must
+at last be the victim of its venom and my folly. Oh! that I had refused
+the commission, which armed this traitor with legal power. I have put a
+sword into the hands of an enemy, and may be the first to fall by it."
+
+"It is useless to repine over the past," said Philip Ludwell, kindly;
+"but the power of these rebels cannot last long. The people who are
+loyal at heart will fall from their support, and military aid will be
+received from England ere long. Then the warmed reptile may be crushed."
+
+"To my mind," said Ballard, "it were better to repair the evil that has
+been done by retracing our steps, rather than to proceed further. When a
+man is over his depth, he had better return to the shore than to attempt
+to cross the unfathomable stream."
+
+"Refrain from enigmas, if you please," said Berkeley, coldly, "and tell
+me to what you refer."
+
+"Simply," replied Ballard, firmly, "that all this evil has resulted from
+your following the jesuitical counsel of a boy, rather than the prudent
+caution of your advisers. My honoured sir, forgive me if I say it is now
+your duty to acquiesce in the request of Major Hansford, and withdraw
+your proclamation."
+
+"And succumb to traitors!" cried Berkeley. "Never while God gives me
+breath to reiterate it. He who would treat with a traitor, is himself
+but little better than a traitor."
+
+The flush which mounted to the brow of Ballard attested his indignation
+at this grave charge; but before he had time to utter the retort which
+rose to his lips, Berkeley added,
+
+"Forgive me, Ballard, for my haste. But the bare idea of making terms
+with these audacious rebels roused my very blood. No, no! I can die in
+defence of my trust, but I cannot, will not yield it."
+
+"But it is not yielding," said Ballard.
+
+"Nay--no more of that," interrupted Berkeley; "let us devise some other
+means. I have it," he added, after a pause. "Accomac is still true to
+my interest, and divided from the mainland by the bay, is difficult of
+access. There will I pitch my tent, and sound my defiance--and when aid
+shall come from England, these proud and insolent traitors shall feel
+the power of my vengeance the more for this insult to my weakness."
+
+This scheme met with the approbation of all present, with the exception
+of old Ballard, who shook his head, and muttered, that he hoped it might
+all be for the best. And so it was determined that early the next
+morning the loyal refugees should embark on board a vessel then lying
+off Tindal's Point, and sail for Accomac.
+
+"And we will celebrate our departure by hanging up that young rogue,
+Hansford, in half an hour," said Berkeley.
+
+"By what law, may it please your excellency?" asked Ballard, surprised
+at this threat.
+
+"By martial law."
+
+"And for what offence?"
+
+"Why zounds, Ballard, you have turned advocate-general for all the
+rebels in the country," said Berkeley, petulantly.
+
+"No, Sir William, I am advocating the cause of justice and of my king."
+
+"Well, sir, what would you advise? To set the rogue at liberty, I
+suppose, and by our leniency to encourage treason."
+
+"By no means," said Ballard. "But either to commit him to custody until
+he may be fairly tried by a jury of his peers, or to take him with you
+to Accomac, where, by further developments of this insurrection, you may
+better judge of the nature of his offence."
+
+"And a hospitable reception would await me in Accomac, forsooth, if I
+appeared there with a prisoner of war, whom I did not have the firmness
+to punish as his crime deserves. No, by heaven! I will not be encumbered
+with prisoners. His life is forfeit to the law, and as he would prove
+an apostle of liberty, let him be a martyr to his cause."
+
+"Let me add my earnest intercession to that of Colonel Ballard," said
+Temple, "in behalf of this unhappy man. I surely have some claim upon
+your benevolence, and I ask his life as a personal boon to me."
+
+"Oh, assuredly, since you rely upon your hospitable protection to us,
+you should have your fee," said Berkeley, with a sneer. "But not in so
+precious a coin as a rebel's life. If you have suffered by the
+protection afforded to the deputy of your king, you shall not lack
+remuneration. But the coin shall be the head of Carolus II.;[42] this
+rebel's head I claim as my own."
+
+"Now, by heaven!" returned Temple, thoroughly aroused, "it requires all
+my loyalty to stomach so foul an insult. My royal master's exchequer
+could illy remunerate me for the gross language heaped upon me by his
+deputy. But let this pass. You are my guest, sir; and that I cannot
+separate the Governor from the man, I am prevented from resenting an
+insult, which else I could but little brook."
+
+"As you please, mine host," replied Berkeley. "But, in truth, I have
+wronged you, Temple. But think, my friend, of the pang the shepherd must
+feel, when he finds that he has let a wolf into his fold, which he is
+unable to resist. Oh, think of this, and bear with me!"
+
+Temple knew the old Governor too well to doubt the sincerity of this
+retraxit, and with a cordial grasp of the hand, he assured Berkeley of
+his forgiveness. "And yet," he added, warmly, "I cannot forget the cause
+I advocate, for this first rebuff. Believe me, Sir William, you will
+gain nothing, but lose much, by proceeding harshly against this unhappy
+young man. In the absence of any evidence of his guilt, you will arouse
+the indignation of the colonists to such a height, that it will be
+difficult to pacify them."
+
+"Pardon me, Sir William Berkeley," said Bernard, who had joined the
+party, "but would it not be well to examine this knave, Berkenhead,
+touching the movements and intentions of the insurgents, and
+particularly concerning any expressions which may have fallen from this
+young gentleman? If it shall appear that he is guiltless of the crime
+imputed to him, then you may safely yield to the solicitations of these
+gentlemen, and liberate him. But if it shall appear that he is guilty,
+they, in their turn, cannot object to his meeting the penalty which his
+treason richly deserves."
+
+"Now, by heaven, the young man speaks truthfully and wisely," said
+Temple, assured, by the former interview with Berkenhead, that he knew
+of nothing which could convict the prisoner. "Nor do I see, Sir William,
+what better course you can adopt than to follow his counsel."
+
+"Truly," said Berkeley, "the young man has proven himself the very Elihu
+of counsellors. 'Great men are not always wise, neither do the aged
+understand judgment. But there is a spirit in man, and the inspiration
+of the Almighty giveth them understanding.' Yet I fear, Colonel Temple,
+you will scarcely, after my impetuosity just now, deem me a Job for
+patience, though Alfred may be an Elihu for understanding. Your counsel
+is good, young man. Let the knave be brought hither to testify, and look
+ye that the prisoner be introduced to confront him. My friends, Ballard
+and Temple, are such sticklers for law, that we must not deviate from
+Magna Charta or the Petition of Right. But stay, we will postpone this
+matter till the morrow. I had almost forgotten it was the Sabbath. Loyal
+churchmen should venerate the day, even when treason is abroad in the
+land. Meantime, let the villain Berkenhead be kept in close custody,
+lest he should escape."
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[42] The coin during the reign of Charles II.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+    "I tell thee what, my friend,
+    He is a very serpent in my way."
+                            _King John._
+
+
+The reader will naturally desire to know what induced the milder counsel
+recommended by Alfred Bernard to the Governor. If we have been
+successful in impressing upon the mind of the reader a just estimate of
+the character of the young jesuit, he will readily conjecture that it
+was from no kindly feeling for his rival, and no inherent love of
+justice that he suggested such a policy; and if he be of a different
+opinion, he need only go back with us to the interview between Bernard
+and Berkenhead, to which allusion was made in the chapter immediately
+preceding the last.
+
+We have said that Alfred Bernard followed the renegade rebel until they
+stood together beneath a large oak tree which stood at the corner of the
+house. Here they stopped as if by mutual, though tacit consent, and
+Berkenhead turning sharply around upon his companion, said in an
+offended tone--"What is your further will with me sir?"
+
+"You seem not to like your comrade Major Hansford?"
+
+"Oh well enough," replied Berkenhead; "there are many better and many
+worse than him. But I don't see how the likes and the dislikes of a poor
+soldier can have any concernment with you."
+
+"I assure you," said Bernard, "it is from no impertinent curiosity, but
+a real desire to befriend you, that I ask the question. The Governor
+strongly suspects your integrity, and that you are concealing from him
+more than it suits you to divulge. Now, I would do you a service and
+advise you how you may reinstate yourself in his favour."
+
+"Well, that seems kind on the outside," said the soldier, "seeing as you
+seems to be one of the blooded gentry, and I am nothing but a plain
+Dunstable.[43] But rough iron is as soft as polished steel."
+
+"I believe you," said Bernard. "Now you have not much reason to waste
+your love on this Major Hansford. He threatened to beat you, as you say,
+and a freeborn Englishman does not bear an insult like that with
+impunity."
+
+
+"No, your honour," replied the man, "and I've known the day when a
+Plymouth cloak[44] would protect me from insult as well as a frieze coat
+from cold. But I am too old for that now, and so I had better swallow an
+insult dry, than butter it with my own marrow."
+
+"And are there not other modes of revenge than by a blow? Where are your
+wits, man? What makes the man stronger than the horse that carries him?
+I tell you, a keen wit is to physical force what your carbine is to the
+tomahawk of these red-skins. It fires at a distance."
+
+The old soldier looked up with a gleam of intelligence, and Bernard
+continued--
+
+"Bethink you, did you hear nothing from Hansford by which you might
+infer that his ultimate design was to overturn the government?"
+
+"Why I can't exactly say that I did," returned the fellow. "To be sure
+they all prate about liberty and the like, but I reckon that is an
+Englishman's privilege, providing he takes it out in talking. But there
+may be fire in the bed-straw for all my ignorance."[45]
+
+"Well, I am sorry for you," said Bernard, "for if you could only
+remember any thing to convict this young rebel, I would warrant you a
+free pardon and a sound neck."
+
+"Well, now, as I come to think of it," said the unscrupulous renegade,
+"there might be some few things he let drop, not much in themselves, but
+taken together, as might weave a right strong tow; and zounds, I don't
+think a man can be far wrong to untwist the rope about his own neck by
+tying it to another. For concerning of life, your honour, while I have
+no great care to risk it in battle, I don't crave to choke it out with
+one of these hemp cravats. And so being as I have already done the state
+some service, I feel it my duty to save her if I can."
+
+"Now, thanks to that catch-word of the rogue," muttered Bernard, "I am
+like to have easy work to-night. Hark ye, Mr. Berkenhead," he added,
+aloud, "I think it is likely that the Governor may wish to ask you a
+question or two touching this matter of which we have been speaking. In
+the meantime here is something which may help you to get along with
+these soldiers," and he placed a sovereign in the fellow's hand.
+
+"Thank your honour," said Berkenhead, humbly, "and seeing its not in the
+way of bribe, I suppose I may take it."
+
+"Oh, no bribe," replied Bernard, smiling, "but mark me, tell a good
+story. The stronger your evidence the safer is your head."
+
+Bernard returned, as we have seen, to the Governor, for the further
+development of his diabolical designs, and in a short time Berkenhead,
+under a guard of soldiers, was conducted to his quarters for the night,
+in a store-house which stood in the yard some distance from the house.
+
+As the house to which the renegade insurgent was consigned was deemed
+sufficiently secure, and the soldiers wearied with a long march, were
+again to proceed on their journey on the morrow, it was not considered
+necessary to place a guard before the door of this temporary cell--the
+precaution, however, being taken to appoint a sentry at each side of the
+mansion-house, and at the door of the apartment in which the unhappy
+Hansford was confined.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[43] An old English expression for a rough, honest fellow.
+
+[44] A bludgeon.
+
+[45] There may be danger in the design.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+    "Ha! sure he sleeps--all's dark within save what
+    A lamp, that feebly lifts a sickly flame,
+    By fits reveals. His face seems turned to favour
+    The attempt. I'll steal and do it unperceived."
+                                        _Mourning Bride._
+
+
+All were wrapt in silence and in slumber, save the weary sentinels, who
+paced drowsily up and down before the door of the house, humming in a
+low tone the popular Lillibullero, or silently communing with their
+brother sentry in the sky. The family, providing for the fatigues of the
+following day, had early retired to rest, and even Virginia, worn down
+by excitement and agitation, having been assured by her father of the
+certain safety of Hansford, had yielded to the restoring influences of
+sleep. How little did the artless girl, or her unsuspicious father,
+suppose that beneath their roof they had been cherishing a demon, who,
+by his wily machinations, was weaving a web around his innocent victim,
+cruel and inextricable.
+
+We have said that all save the watchful sentinels were sleeping; but one
+there was from whose eyes and from whose heart revenge had driven sleep.
+Mamalis--the poor, hapless Mamalis--whose sorrows had been forgotten in
+the general excitement which had prevailed--Mamalis knew but one
+thought, and that was no dream. Her brother, the pride and refuge of
+her maiden heart, lay stiff and murdered by the way-side--his death
+unwept, his dirge unsung, his brilliant hopes of fame cut off ere they
+had fully budded. And his murderer was near her! Could she hesitate? Had
+she not been taught, in her simple faith, that the blood of the victim
+requires the blood of his destroyer? The voice of her brother's blood
+called to her from the ground. Nor did it call in vain. It is true, he
+had been harsh, nay sometimes even cruel to her, but when was woman's
+heart, when moved to softness, ever mindful of the wrongs she had
+endured? Ask yourself, when standing by the lifeless corse of one whom
+you have dearly loved, if then you can remember aught but kindness, and
+love, and happiness, in your association with the loved one. One gentle
+word, one sweet smile, one generous action, though almost faded from the
+memory before, obscures forever all the recollection of wrongs inflicted
+and injuries endured.
+
+She was in the room occupied by Virginia Temple. Oh, what a contrast
+between the two! Yes, there they were--Revenge and Innocence! The one
+lay pure and beautiful in sleep; her round, white arm thrown back upon
+the pillow, to form a more snowy resting place for her lovely cheek.
+From beneath her cap some tresses had escaped, which, happy in release,
+were sporting in the soft air that wooed them through the open window.
+Her face, at other times too spiritually pale, was now slightly flushed
+by the sultry warmth of the night. A smile of peaceful happiness played
+around her lips, as she dreamed, perhaps, of some wild flower ramble
+which in happier days she had had with Hansford. Her snowy bosom, which
+in her restlessness she had nearly bared, was white and swelling as a
+wave which plays in the calm moonlight. Such was the beautiful being who
+lay sleeping calmly in the arms of Innocence, while the dark, but not
+less striking, form of the Indian girl bent over, to discover if she
+slept. She was dressed as we have before described, with the short
+deer-skin smock, extending to her knees, and fitted closely round the
+waist with a belt of wampum. Her long black hair was bound by a simple
+riband, and fell thickly over her shoulders in dark profusion. In her
+left hand she held a lamp, and it was fearful to mark, by its faint,
+glimmering light, the intense earnestness of her countenance. There were
+some traces of tears upon her cheek, but these were nearly dried. Her
+bright black eyes were lighted by a strange, unnatural fire, which they
+never knew before. It seemed as though you might see them in the dark.
+In her right hand she held a small dagger, which _he_ had given her as a
+pledge of a brother's love. Fit instrument to avenge a brother's death!
+
+She seemed to be listening and watching to hear or see the slightest
+movement from the slumbering maiden. But all was still!
+
+"I slept not thus," she murmured, "the night I heard him vow his
+vengeance against your father. Before the birds had sung their morning
+song I came to warn you. Now all I loved, my country, my friends, my
+brother, have gone forever, and none shares the tears of the Indian
+maiden."
+
+She turned away with a sigh from the bedside of Virginia, and carefully
+replaced the dagger in her belt. She then took a key which was lying on
+the table and clutched it with an air of triumph. That key she had
+stolen from the pocket of Alfred Bernard while he slept--for what will
+not revenge, and woman's revenge, dare to do. Then taking up a water
+pitcher, and extinguishing the light, she softly left the room.
+
+As she endeavoured to pass the outer door she was accosted by the hoarse
+voice of the sentinel--"Who comes there?" he cried.
+
+"A friend," she answered, timidly.
+
+"You cannot pass, friend, without a permit from the Governor. Them's his
+orders."
+
+"I go to bring some water for the sick maiden," she said earnestly,
+showing him the pitcher. "She is far from well. Let her not suffer for a
+draught of water."
+
+"Well," said the pliant soldier, yielding; "you are a good pleader,
+pretty one. That dark face of yours looks devilish well by moonlight.
+What say you; if I let you pass, will you come and sit with me when you
+get back? It's damned lonesome out here by myself."
+
+"I will do any thing you wish when I return," said the girl.
+
+"Easily won, by Wenus," said the gallant soldier, as he permitted
+Mamalis to pass on her supposed errand.
+
+Freed from this obstruction, she glided rapidly through the yard, and
+soon stood before the door of the small house which she had learned was
+appropriated as the prison of Berkenhead. Turning the key softly in the
+lock, she pulled the latch-string and gently opened the door. A flood of
+moonlight streamed upon the floor, encumbered with a variety of
+plantation utensils. By the aid of this light Mamalis soon recognized
+the form and features of the fated Berkenhead, who was sleeping in one
+corner of the room. She knelt over him and feasted her eyes with the
+anticipation of her deep revenge. Fearing to be defeated in her design,
+for with her it was the foiled attempt and "not the act which might
+confound," she bared his bosom and sought his heart. The motion startled
+the sleeping soldier. "The devil," he said, half opening his eyes; "its
+damned light." Just as he pronounced the last word the fatal dagger of
+Mamalis found its way into his heart. "It is all dark now," she said,
+bitterly, and rising from her victim, she glided through the door and
+left him with his God.
+
+With the native shrewdness of her race, Mamalis did not forget that she
+had still to play a part, and so without returning directly to the
+house, she repaired to the well and filled her pitcher. She even offered
+the sentinel a drink as she repassed him on her return, and promising
+once more to come back, when she had carried the water to the "sick
+maiden," she stole quietly into the room occupied by Bernard, replaced
+the key in his pocket as before, and hastened up stairs again.
+
+And there seated once more by the bedside of the sleeping Virginia, the
+young Indian girl sang, in a low voice, at once her song of triumph and
+her brother's dirge, in that rich oriental improvisation for which the
+Indians were so remarkable. We will not pretend to give in the original
+words of this beautiful requiem, but furnish the reader, in default of a
+better, with the following free translation, which may give some faint
+idea of its beauty:--
+
+"They have plucked the flower from the garden of my heart, and have torn
+the soil where it tenderly grew. He was bright and beautiful as the
+bounding deer, and the shaft from his bow was as true as his unchanging
+soul! Rest with the Great Spirit, soul of my brother!
+
+"The Great Spirit looked down in pity on my brother; Manitou has
+snatched him from the hands of the dreadful Okee. On the shores of the
+spirit-land, with the warriors of his tribe he sings the song of his
+glory, and chases the spirit deer over the immaterial plains! Rest with
+the Great Spirit, soul of my brother!
+
+"But I, his sister, am left lonely and desolate; the hearth-stone of
+Mamalis is deserted. Yet has my hand sought revenge for his murder, and
+my bosom exults over the destruction of his destroyer! Rest with the
+Great Spirit, soul of my brother!
+
+"Rest with the Great Spirit, soul of Manteo, till Mamalis shall come to
+enjoy thy embraces. Then welcome to thy spirit home the sister of thy
+youth, and reward with thy love the avenger of thy death! Rest with the
+Great Spirit, soul of my brother!"
+
+As her melancholy requiem died away, Mamalis rose silently from the
+seat, and bent once more over the form of the sleeping Virginia. As she
+felt the warm breath of the pure young girl upon her cheek, and watched
+the regular beating of her heart, and then contrasted the purity of the
+sleeping maiden with her own wild, guilty nature, she started back in
+horror. For the first time she felt remorse at the commission of her
+crime, and with a heavy sigh she hurriedly left the room, as though it
+were corrupted by her presence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+    "And smile, and smile, and smile, and be a villain."
+                                              _King John._
+
+
+Great was the horror of the loyalists, on the following morning, at the
+discovery of the horrible crime which had been perpetrated; but still
+greater was the mystery as to who was the guilty party. There was no
+mode of getting admittance to the house in which Berkenhead was
+confined, except through the door, the key of which was in the
+possession of Alfred Bernard. Even if the position and standing of this
+young man had not repelled the idea that he was cognizant of the crime,
+his own unfeigned surprise at the discovery, and the absence of any
+motive for its commission, acquitted him in the minds of all. And yet,
+if this hypothesis was avoided, it was impossible to form any rational
+theory on the subject. There were but two persons connected with the
+establishment who could be presumed to have any plausible motive for
+murdering Berkenhead. Hansford might indeed be suspected of a desire to
+suppress evidence which would be dangerous to his own safety, but then
+Hansford was himself in close confinement. Mamalis, too, had manifested
+a spirit, the evening before, towards the unhappy man, which might very
+naturally subject her to suspicion; but, besides that, she played her
+part of surprise to perfection--it could not be conceived how she had
+gotten possession of the key of the room. The sentinel might indeed have
+thrown much light upon the subject, but he kept his own counsel for fear
+of the consequences of disobedience to orders; and he boldly asserted
+that no one had left the house during the night. This evidence, taken in
+connection with the fact that the young girl was found sleeping, as
+usual, in the little room adjoining Virginia's chamber, entirely
+exculpated her from any participation in the crime. Nothing then was
+left for it, but to suppose that the unhappy man, in a fit of
+desperation, had himself put a period to his existence. A little
+investigation might have easily satisfied them that such an hypothesis
+was as groundless as the rest; for it was afterwards ascertained by
+Colonel Temple, after a strict search, that no weapon was found on or
+near the body, nor in the apartment where it lay. But Sir William
+Berkeley, anxious to proceed upon his way to Accomac, and caring but
+little, perhaps, for the fate of a rebel, whose life was probably
+shortened but a few hours, gave the affair a very hurried and summary
+examination. Bernard, with his quick sagacity, discovered, or at least
+shrewdly suspected, the truth, and Mamalis felt, as he fixed his dark
+eyes upon her, that he had read the mystery of her heart. But, for his
+own reasons, the villain for the present maintained the strictest
+silence on the subject.
+
+But this catastrophe, so fatal to Berkenhead, was fortunate for young
+Hansford. The Governor, more true to his word to loyalists than he had
+hitherto been to the insurgents, released our hero from imprisonment, in
+the absence of any testimony against him. And, to the infinite chagrin
+of Alfred Bernard, his rival, once more at liberty, was again, in the
+language of the treacherous Plantagenet, "a very serpent in his way." He
+had too surely discovered, that so long as Hansford lived, the heart of
+Virginia Temple, or what he valued far more, her hand, could never be
+given to another; and yet he felt, that if he were out of the way, and
+that heart, though widowed, free to choose again, the emotions of
+mistaken gratitude would prompt her to listen with favour to his suit.
+With all his faults, too, and with his mercenary motives, Bernard was
+not without a feeling, resembling love, for Virginia. We are told that
+there are fruits and flowers which, though poisonous in their native
+soil, when transplanted and cherished under more genial circumstances,
+become at once fair to the eye and wholesome to the taste. It is thus
+with love. In the wild, sterile heart of Alfred Bernard it had taken
+root, and poisoned all his nature; but yet it was the same emotion which
+shed a genial influence over the manly heart of Hansford. If it had been
+otherwise, there were some as fair, and many far more wealthy, in his
+adopted colony, than Virginia Temple. But she was at once adapted to his
+interests, his passions, and his intellect. She could aid his vaulting
+ambition by sharing with him her wealth; she could control, by the
+strength of her character, and the sweetness of her disposition, his own
+wild nature; and she could be the instructive and congenial companion of
+his intellect. And all this rich treasure might be his but for the
+existence, the rivalry of the hated Hansford. Still his ardent nature
+led him to hope. With all his heart he would engage in quelling the
+rebellion, which he foresaw was about to burst upon the colony; and
+then revenge, the sweetest morsel to the jealous mind, was his.
+Meantime, he must look the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it;
+and curbing his own feelings, must, under pretence of friendship and
+interest for a rival, continue to plot his ruin. Alfred Bernard was
+equal to the task.
+
+It was with these feelings that he sought Virginia Temple on the eve of
+his departure from Windsor Hall. The young girl was seated, with her
+lover, on a rude, rustic bench, beneath the large oak where Bernard had,
+the evening before, had an interview with the unfortunate Berkenhead. As
+he approached, she rose, and with her usual winning frankness of manner,
+she extended her hand.
+
+"Come, Mr. Bernard," she said, "I have determined that you and Major
+Hansford shall be friends."
+
+"Most willingly, on my part," said the smooth-tongued Bernard. "And I
+think I have given the best evidence of my disposition to be so, by
+aiding feebly in restoring to Miss Temple an old friend, when she must
+now so soon part with her more recent acquaintance."
+
+"I am happy to think," said Hansford, whose candour prevented him from
+suppressing entirely the coldness of his manner, "that I am indebted to
+Mr. Bernard for any interest he may have taken in my behalf. I hope,
+sir, you will now add to the obligation under which I at present rest to
+you, by apprising me in what manner you have so greatly obliged me."
+
+"Why, you must be aware," replied Bernard, "that your present freedom
+from restraint is due to my interposition with Sir William Berkeley."
+
+"Oh yes, indeed," interposed Virginia, "for I heard my father say that
+it was Mr. Bernard's wise suggestion, adopted by the Governor, which
+secured your release."
+
+"Hardly so," returned Hansford, "even if such were his disposition. But,
+if I am rightly informed, your assistance only extended to a very
+natural request, that I should not be judged guilty so long as there was
+no evidence to convict me. If I am indebted to Mr. Bernard for
+impressing upon the mind of the Governor a principle of law as old, I
+believe, as Magna Charta, I must e'en render him the thanks which are
+justly his due, and which he seems so anxious to demand."
+
+"Mr. Hansford," said Virginia, "why will you persist in being so
+obstinate? Is it such a hard thing, after all, for one brave man to owe
+his life to another, or for an innocent man to receive justice at the
+hands of a generous one? And at least, I should think, she added, with
+the least possible pout, "that, when I ask as a favour that you should
+be friends, you should not refuse me."
+
+"Indeed, Miss Virginia," said Alfred Bernard, without evincing the
+slightest mark of displeasure; "you urge this reconciliation too far. If
+Major Hansford have some secret cause of enmity or distrust towards me,
+of which I am ignorant, I beg that you will not force him to express a
+sentiment which his heart does not entertain. And as for his gratitude,
+which he seems to think that I demand, I assure you, that for any
+service which I may have done him, I am sufficiently compensated by my
+own consciousness of rectitude of purpose, and nobly rewarded by
+securing your approving smile."
+
+"Nobly, generously said, Mr. Bernard," replied Virginia, "and now I have
+indeed mistaken Mr. Hansford's character if he fail to make atonement
+for his backwardness, by a full, free, and cordial reconciliation."
+
+"I must needs give you my left hand, then," said Hansford, extending his
+hand with as much cordiality as he could assume; "my right arm is
+disabled as you perceive, by a wound inflicted by one of the enemies of
+my country, against whom it would seem it is treason to battle."
+
+"Nay, if you go into that hateful subject again," said Virginia, "I
+fear there is not much cordiality in your heart yet."
+
+"Oh! you are mistaken, Miss Temple," said Bernard, gaily; "you must
+remember the old adage, that the left is nearest to the heart. Believe
+me, Major Hansford and myself will be good friends yet, and when we
+hereafter shall speak of our former estrangement, it will only be to
+remember by whose gentle influence we were reconciled. But permit me to
+hope, Major, that your wound is not serious."
+
+"A mere trifle, I believe, sir," returned Hansford, "but I am afraid I
+will suffer some inconvenience from it for some time, as it is the sword
+arm; and in these troublous times it may fail me, when it should be
+prepared to defend."
+
+"An that were the only use to which you would apply it," said Virginia,
+half laughing, and half in earnest, "I would sincerely hope that it
+might never heal."
+
+"Oh fear not but that it will soon heal," said Bernard. "The most
+dangerous wounds are inflicted here," laying his hand upon his heart; "a
+wound dealt not by a savage, but by an angel; not from the arrow of the
+ambushed Indian, but from the quiver of the mischievous little blind
+boy--and the more fatal, because we insanely delight to inflame the
+wound instead of seeking to cure it."
+
+"Well really, Mr. Bernard," said Virginia, rallying the gay young
+euphuist, "the flowers of gallantry which you have brought from Windsor
+Court, thanks to your fostering care, flourish quite as sweetly in this
+wilderness of Windsor Hall. Take pity on an illiterate colonial girl,
+and tell me whether this is the language of Waller, Cowley or Dryden?"
+
+"It is the language of the heart, Miss Temple, on the present occasion
+at least," said Bernard, gravely; "for I am admonished that it is time I
+should say farewell. Without flowers or poetry, Miss Virginia, I bid you
+adieu. May you be happy, and derive from your association with others
+that high enjoyment which you are so capable of bestowing. Farewell,
+Major Hansford, we may meet again, I trust, when it will not be
+necessary to invoke the interposition of a fair mediator to effect a
+reconciliation."
+
+Hansford well understood the innuendo contained in the last words of
+Bernard, but taking the well-timed hint, refrained from expressing it
+more clearly, and gave his hand to his rival with every appearance of
+cordiality. And Virginia, misconstruing the words of the young jesuit,
+frankly extended her own hand, which he pressed respectfully to his
+lips, and then turned silently away.
+
+"Well, I am delighted," said Virginia to her lover, when they were thus
+left alone, "that you are at last friends with Bernard. You see now that
+I was right and you were wrong in our estimates of his character."
+
+"Indeed I do not, my dear Virginia; on the contrary, this brief
+interview has but confirmed my previously formed opinion."
+
+"Oh! that is impossible, Hansford; you are too suspicious, indeed you
+are. I never saw more refinement and delicacy blended with more real
+candour. Indeed, Hansford, he is a noble fellow."
+
+"I am sorry to differ with you, dearest; but to my mind his refinement
+is naught but Jesuitical craft; his delicacy the result of an
+educational schooling of the lip, to conceal the real feelings of his
+heart; and his candour but the gilt washing which appears like gold, but
+after all, only hides the baser metal beneath it."
+
+"Well, in my life I never heard such perversion! Really, Hansford, you
+will make me think you are jealous."
+
+"Jealous, Virginia, jealous!" said Hansford, in a sorrowful tone. "Alas!
+if I were even capable of such a feeling, what right have I to entertain
+it? Your heart is free, and torn from the soil which once cherished it,
+may be transplanted elsewhere, while the poor earth where once it grew
+can only hope now and then to feel the fragrance which it sheds on all
+around. No, not jealous, Virginia, whatever else I may be!"
+
+"You speak too bitterly, Hansford; have I not assured you that though a
+harsh fate may sever us; though parental authority may deny you my hand,
+yet my heart is unalterably yours. But tell me, why it is that you can
+see nothing good in this young man, and persist in perverting every
+sentiment, every look, every expression to his injury?"
+
+Before Hansford could reply, the shrill voice of Mrs. Temple was heard,
+crying out; "Virginia Temple, Virginia Temple, why where can the child
+have got to!"--and at the same moment the old lady came bustling round
+the house, and discovered the unlawful interview of the lovers.
+
+Rising hastily from her seat, Virginia advanced to her mother, who,
+without giving her time to speak, even had she been so inclined, sang
+out at the top of her voice--"Come along, my daughter. Here are the
+guests in your father's house kept waiting in the porch to tell you
+good-bye, and you, forsooth, must be talking, the Lord knows what, to
+that young scape-gallows yonder, who hasn't modesty enough to know when
+and where he's wanted."
+
+"Dear mother, don't speak so loud," whispered the poor girl.
+
+"Don't talk so loud, forsooth--and why? They that put themselves where
+they are not wanted and not asked, must expect to hear ill of
+themselves."
+
+"There comes my pretty Jeanie," said her old father, as he saw her
+approach. "And so you found her at last, mother. Come here, dearest, we
+have been waiting for you."
+
+The sweet tones of that gentle voice, which however harsh at times to
+others, were ever modulated to the sweetest music when he spoke to her,
+fell upon the ears of the poor confused and mortified girl, in such
+comforting accents, that the full heart could no longer restrain its
+gushing feelings, and she burst into tears. With swollen eyes and with a
+heavy heart she bade adieu to the several guests, and as Sir William
+Berkeley, in the mistaken kindness of his heart, kissed her cheek, and
+whispered that Bernard would soon return and all would be happy again,
+she sobbed as if her gentle heart would break.
+
+"I always tell the Colonel that he ruins the child," said Mrs. Temple to
+the Governor, with one of her blandest smiles, on seeing this renewed
+exhibition of sensibility. "It was not so in our day, Lady Frances; we
+had other things to think about than crying and weeping. Tears were not
+so shallow then."
+
+Lady Frances Berkeley nodded a stately acquiescence to this tribute to
+the stoicism of the past, and made some sage, original and relevant
+reflection, that shallow streams ever were the most noisy--and then
+kissing the weeping girl, repeated the grateful assurance that Bernard
+would not be long absent, and that she herself would be present at the
+happy bridal, to taste the bride's cake and quaff the knitting cup,[46]
+with other like consolations well calculated to restore tranquillity and
+happiness to the bosom of the disconsolate Virginia.
+
+And so the unfortunate Berkeley commenced that fatal flight, which
+contributed so largely to divert the arms of the insurgents from the
+Indians to the government, and to change what else might have been a
+mere unauthorized attack upon the common enemies of the country into a
+protracted and bloody civil war.
+
+Hansford did not long remain at Windsor Hall, after the departure of the
+loyalists. He would indeed have been wanting in astuteness if he had not
+inferred from the direct language of Mrs. Temple that he was an
+unwelcome visitant at the mansion. But more important, if not more
+cogent reasons urged his immediate departure. He saw at a glance the
+fatal error committed by Berkeley in his flight to Accomac, and the
+immense advantage it would be to the insurgents. He wished, therefore,
+without loss of time to communicate the welcome intelligence to Bacon
+and his followers, who, he knew, were anxiously awaiting the result of
+his mission.
+
+Ordering his horse, he bade a cordial adieu to the good old colonel,
+who, as he shook his hand, said, with a tear in his eye, "Oh, my boy, my
+boy! if your head were as near right as I believe your heart is, how I
+would love to welcome you to my bosom as my son."
+
+"I hope, my kind, my noble friend," said Hansford, "that the day may yet
+come when you will see that I am not wholly wrong. God knows I would
+almost rather err with you than to be right with any other man." Then
+bidding a kind farewell to Mrs. Temple and Virginia, to which the old
+lady responded with due civility, but without cordiality, he vaulted
+into the saddle and rode off--and as long as the house was still in
+view, he could see the white 'kerchief of Virginia from the open window,
+waving a last fond adieu to her unhappy lover.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[46] A cup drunk at the marriage ceremony in honour of the bride.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+    "The abstract and brief chronicle of the time."
+                                                    _Hamlet._
+
+
+It is not our purpose to trouble the reader with a detailed account of
+all the proceedings of the famous Rebellion, which forms the basis of
+our story. We, therefore, pass rapidly over the stirring incidents which
+immediately succeeded the flight of Sir William Berkeley. Interesting as
+these incidents may be to the antiquary or historian, they have but
+little to do with the dramatis personae of this faithful narrative, in
+whose fate we trust our readers are somewhat interested. Accomac is
+divided from the mainland of Virginia by the broad Chesapeake Bay.
+Although contained in the same grant which prescribed the limits to the
+colony, and although now considered a part of this ancient commonwealth,
+there is good reason to believe that formerly it was considered in a
+different light. In one of the earliest colonial state papers which has
+been preserved, the petition of Morryson, Ludwell & Smith, for a
+reformed charter for the colony, the petitioners are styled the "agents
+for the governor, council and burgesses of the country of Virginia _and
+territory of Accomac_;" and although this form of phraseology appears in
+but few of the records, yet it would appear that the omission was the
+result of mere convenience in style, just as Victoria is more frequently
+styled the Queen of England, than called by her more formal title of
+Queen of the United Kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland, by the Grace
+of God, Defender of the Faith. It was, therefore, not without reason,
+that Nathaniel Bacon, glad at least of a pretext for advancing his
+designs, should have considered the flight of Sir William Berkeley to
+Accomac as a virtual abdication of his authority, more especially as it
+had been ordained but two years before by the council at Whitehall, that
+the governor should be actually a resident of Virginia, unless when
+summoned by the King to England or elsewhere. At least it was a
+sufficient pretext for the young insurgent, who, in the furtherance of
+his designs did not seem to be over-scrupulous in regard to the powers
+with which he was clothed. But twelve years afterwards a similar pretext
+afforded by the abdication of James the Second, relieved the British
+government of one of the most serious difficulties which has arisen in
+her constitutional history.
+
+Without proceeding on his expedition against the Indians, Bacon had no
+sooner heard of the abdication of the governor than he retired to the
+Middle Plantation, the site of the present venerable city of
+Williamsburg. Here, summoning a convention of the most prominent
+citizens from all parts of the colony, he declared the government
+vacated by the voluntary abdication of Berkeley, and in his own name,
+and the name of four members of the council, proceeded to issue writs
+for a meeting of the Assembly. It is but just to the memory of this
+great man to say, that this Assembly, convened by his will, and acting,
+as may well be conceived, almost exclusively under his dictation, has
+left upon our statute books laws "the most wholesome and good," for the
+benefit of the colony, and the most conducive to the advancement of
+rational liberty. The rights of property remained inviolate--the reforms
+were moderate and judicious, and the government of the colony proceeded
+as quietly and calmly after the accomplishment of the revolution, as
+though Sir William Berkeley were still seated in his palace as the
+executive magistrate of Virginia. A useful lesson did this young
+colonial rebel teach to modern reformers who would defame his name--the
+lesson that reform does not necessarily imply total change, and that
+there is nothing with which it is more dangerous to tamper than long
+established usage. The worst of all quacks are those who would
+administer their sovereign nostrums to the constitution of their
+country.
+
+The reader of history need not be reminded that the expedition of Bland
+and Carver, designed to surprise Sir William Berkeley in his new
+retreat, was completely frustrated by the treachery of Larimore, and its
+unfortunate projectors met, at the hands of the stern old Governor, a
+traitor's doom. Thus the drooping hopes of the loyalists were again
+revived, and taking advantage of this happy change in the condition of
+affairs, Berkeley with his little band of faithful adherents returned by
+sea to Jamestown, and fortified the place to the best of their ability
+against the attacks of the rebels.
+
+Nor were the insurgents unwilling to furnish them an opportunity for a
+contest. The battle of Bloody Run is memorable in the annals of the
+colony as having forever annihilated the Indian power in Eastern
+Virginia. Like the characters in Bunyan's sublime vision, this unhappy
+race, so long a thorn in the side of the colonists, had passed away, and
+"they saw their faces no more." But his very triumph over the savage
+enemies of his country, well nigh proved the ruin of the young
+insurgent. Many of his followers, who had joined him with a bona fide
+design of extirpating the Indian power, now laid down their arms, and
+retired quietly to their several homes. Bacon was thus left with only
+about two hundred adherents, to prosecute the civil war which the harsh
+and dissembling policy of Berkeley had invoked; while the Governor was
+surrounded by more than three times that number, with the entire navy of
+Virginia at his command, and, moreover, secure behind the fortifications
+of Jamestown. Yet did not the brave young hero shrink from the contest.
+Though reduced in numbers, those that remained were in themselves a
+host. They were all men of more expanded views, and more exalted
+conceptions of liberty, than many of the medley crew who had before
+attended him. They fought in a holier cause than when arrayed against
+the despised force of their savage foes, and, moreover, they fought in
+self-defence. For, too proud and generous to desert their leader in his
+hour of peril, each of his adherents lay under the proscriptive ban of
+the revengeful Governor, as a rebel and a traitor. No sooner, therefore,
+did Bacon hear of the return of Berkeley to Jamestown, than, with hasty
+marches, he proceeded to invest the place. It is here, then, that we
+resume the thread of our broken narrative.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+                    "When Liberty rallies
+    Once more in thy regions, remember me then."
+                                              _Byron._
+
+
+It was on a calm, clear morning in the latter part of the month of
+September, that the little army of Nathaniel Bacon, wearied and worn
+with protracted marches, and with hard fought battles, might be seen
+winding through the woodland district to the north of Jamestown. The two
+cavaliers, who led the way a little distance ahead of the main body of
+the insurgents, were Bacon and his favourite comrade, Hansford--engaged,
+as before, in an animated, but now a more earnest conversation. The brow
+of the young hero was more overcast with care and reflection than when
+we last saw him. The game, which he had fondly hoped was over, had yet
+to be played, and the stake that remained was far more serious than any
+which had yet been risked. During the brief interval that his undisputed
+power existed, the colony had flourished and improved, and the bright
+dream which he had of her approaching delivery from bondage, seemed
+about to be realized. And now it was sad and disheartening to think that
+the battle must again be fought, and with such odds against him, that
+the chances of success were far more remote than ever. But Bacon was not
+the man to reveal his feelings, and he imparted to others the
+cheerfulness which he failed to feel himself. From time to time he would
+ride along the broken ranks, revive their drooping spirits, inspire them
+with new courage, and impart fresh ardor into their breasts for the
+glorious cause in which they were engaged. Then rejoining Hansford, he
+would express to him the fears and apprehensions which he had so
+studiously concealed from the rest.
+
+It was on one of these occasions, after deploring the infatuated
+devotion of so many of the colonists to the cause of blind loyalty, and
+the desertion of so many on whom he had relied to co-operate in his
+enterprize, that he said, bitterly:
+
+"I fear sometimes, my friend, that we have been too premature in our
+struggle for liberty. Virginia is not yet ready to be free. Her people
+still hug the chains which enslave them."
+
+"Alas!" said Hansford, "it is too true that we cannot endue the infant
+in swaddling bands with the pride and strength of a giant. The child who
+learns to walk must meet with many a fall, and the nation that aspires
+to freedom will often be checked by disaster and threatened with ruin."
+
+"And this it is," said Bacon, sorrowfully, "that makes me sick at heart.
+Each struggle to be free sinks the chain of the captive deeper into his
+flesh. And should we fail now, my friend, we but tighten the fetters
+that bind us."
+
+"Think not thus gloomily on the subject," replied Hansford. "Believe me,
+that you have already done much to develope the germ of freedom in
+Virginia. It may be that it may not expand and grow in our brief lives;
+and even though our memory may pass away, and the nation we have served
+may fail to call us blessed, yet they will rejoice in the fruition of
+that freedom for which we may perish. Should the soldier repine because
+he is allotted to lead a forlorn hope? No! there is a pride and a glory
+to know, that his death is the bridge over which others will pass to
+victory."
+
+"God bless your noble soul, Hansford," said Bacon, with the intensest
+admiration. "It is men like you and not like me who are worthy to live
+in future generations. Men who, regardless of the risk or sacrifice of
+self, press onward in the discharge of duty. Love of glory may elevate
+the soul in the hour of triumph, but love of duty, and firmness
+resolutely to discharge it, can alone sustain us in the hour of peril
+and trial."
+
+This was at last the difference between the two men. Intense desire for
+personal fame, united with a subordinate love of country impelled Bacon
+in his course. Inflexible resolution to discharge a sacred duty, an
+entire abnegation of self in its performance, and the strongest
+convictions of right constituted the incentives to Hansford. It was this
+that in the hour of their need sustained the heart of Hansford, while
+the more selfish but noble heart of his leader almost sank within him;
+and yet the effects upon the actions of the two were much the same. The
+former, unswayed by circumstances however adverse, pressed steadily and
+firmly on; while the latter, with the calmness of desperation, knowing
+that safety, and (what was dearer) glory, lay in the path of success,
+braced himself for the struggle with more than his usual resolution.
+
+"But, alas!" continued Bacon, in the same melancholy tone, "if we should
+fail, how hard to be forgotten. Your name and memory to perish among men
+forever--your very grave to be neglected and uncared for; and this
+living, breathing frame, instinct with life, and love, and glory, to
+pass away and mingle with the dust of the veriest worm which crawls upon
+the earth. Oh, God! to be forgotten, to leave no impress on the world
+but what the next flowing tide may efface forever. Think of it, realize
+it, Hansford--to be forgotten!"
+
+"It would, indeed, be a melancholy thought," said Hansford, with a deep
+sympathy for his friend--"if this were all. But when we remember that we
+stand but on the threshold of existence, and have a higher, a holier
+destiny to attain beyond, we need care but little for what is passing
+here. I have sometimes thought, my friend, that as in manhood we
+sometimes smile at the absurd frivolities which caught our childish
+fancy, so when elevated to a higher sphere we would sit and wonder at
+the interest which we took in the trifling pleasures, the empty honours,
+and the glittering toys of this present life."
+
+"And do you mean to say that honour and glory are nothing here?"
+
+"Only so far as they reflect the honour and glory which are beyond."
+
+"Pshaw, man!" cried Bacon, "you do not, you cannot think so. You ask me
+the reason of this desire for fame and remembrance when we are dust. I
+tell you it is an instinct implanted in us by the Almighty to impel us
+to glorious deeds."
+
+"Aye," said Hansford, quietly, "and when that desire, by our own
+indulgence, becomes excessive, just as the baser appetites of the
+glutton or the debauchee, it becomes corrupt and tends to our
+destruction."
+
+"You are a curious fellow, Hansford," said Bacon, laughing, "and should
+have been one of old Noll's generals--for I believe you can preach as
+well as you can fight, and believe me that is no slight commendation.
+But you must excuse me if I cannot agree with you in all of your
+sentiments. I am sorry to say that old Butler's 'pulpit drum
+ecclesiastic' seldom beat me to a church parade while I was in England,
+and here in Virginia they send us the worst preachers, as they send us
+the worst of every thing. But a truce to the subject. Tell me are you a
+believer in presentiments?"
+
+"Surely such things are possible, but I believe them to be rare,"
+replied his companion. "Future events certainly make an impression upon
+the animal creation, and I know not why man should be exempt entirely
+from a similar law. The migratory birds will seek a more southern clime,
+even before a change of weather is indicated by the wind, and the
+appearance of the albatross, or the bubbling of the porpoise, if we may
+believe the sailors' account, portend a storm."
+
+"These phenomena," suggested Bacon, "may easily be explained by some
+atmospheric influence, insensible to our nature, but easily felt by
+them."
+
+"I might answer," replied Hansford, "that if insensible to us, we are
+not warranted in presuming their existence. But who can tell in the
+subtle mechanism of the mind how sensitive it may be to the impressions
+of coming yet unseen events. At least, all nations have believed in the
+existence of such an influence, and the Deity himself has deigned to use
+it through his prophets, in the revelation of his purposes to man."
+
+"Well, true or not," said Bacon, in a low voice, "I have felt the effect
+of such a presentiment in my own mind, and although I have tried to
+resist its influence I have been unable to do so. There is something
+which whispers to me, Hansford, that I will not see the consummation of
+my hopes in this colony--and that dying I shall leave behind me an
+inglorious name. For what at last is an unsuccessful patriot but a
+rebel. And oh, as I have listened to the monitions of this demon, it
+seemed as though the veil of futurity were raised, and I could read my
+fate in after years. Some future chronicler will record this era of
+Virginia's history, and this struggle for freedom on the part of her
+patriot children will be styled rebellion; our actions misrepresented;
+our designs misinterpreted; and I the leader and in part the author of
+the movement will be handed down with Wat Tyler and Jack Cade to infamy,
+obloquy and reproach."
+
+"Think not thus gloomily," said Hansford, "the feelings you describe are
+often suggested to an excited imagination by the circumstances with
+which it is surrounded; just as dreams are the run mad chroniclers of
+our daily thoughts and hopes and apprehensions. You should not yield to
+them, General, they unman you or at least unfit you for the duties which
+lie before you."
+
+"You are right," returned Bacon; "and I banish them from me forever. I
+have half a mind to acknowledge myself your convert, Hansford; eschew
+the gaily bedizzened Glory, and engage your demure little Quaker, Duty,
+as my handmaiden in her place."
+
+"I will feel but too proud of such a convert to my creed," said Hansford
+laughing. "And now what of your plans on Jamestown?"
+
+"Why to tell you the truth," said Bacon gravely; "I am somewhat at fault
+in regard to my actions there. I could take the town in a day, and
+repulse those raw recruits of the old Governor with ease, if they would
+only sally out. But I suspect the old tyrant will play a safe game with
+me--and securely ensconced behind his walls, will cut my brave boys to
+pieces with his cannon before I can make a successful breach."
+
+"You could throw up breastworks for your protection," suggested
+Hansford.
+
+"Aye, but I fear it would be building a stable after the horse was
+stolen. With our small force we could not resist their guns while we
+were constructing our fortifications. But I will try it by night, and we
+may succeed. The d----d old traitor--if he would only meet me in open
+field, I could make my way 'through twenty times his stop.'"
+
+"Well, we must encounter some risk," replied Hansford. "I have great
+hopes from the character of his recruits, too. Though they number much
+more than ourselves, yet they serve without love, and in the present
+exhausted exchequer of the colony, are fed more by promises than money."
+
+"They are certainly not likely to be fed by _angels_," said Bacon, "as
+some of the old prophets are said to have been. But, Hansford, an idea
+has just struck me, which is quite a new manoeuvre in warfare, and
+from which your ideas of chivalry will revolt."
+
+"What is it?" asked Hansford eagerly.
+
+"Why if it succeeds," returned Bacon, "I will warrant that Jamestown is
+in our hands in twenty-four hours, without the loss of more blood than
+would fill a quart canteen."
+
+"Bravo, then, General, if you add such an important principle to the
+stock of military tactics, I'll warrant that whispering demon lied, and
+that you will retain both Glory and Duty in your service."
+
+"I am afraid you will change your note, Thomas, when I develope my plan.
+It is simply this--to detail a party of men to scour the country around
+Jamestown, and collect the good dames and daughters of our loyal
+councillors. If we take them with us, I'll promise to provide a secure
+defence against the enemies' fire. The besieged will dare not fire a
+gun so long as there is danger of striking their wives and children, and
+we, in the meantime, secure behind this temporary breastwork, will
+prepare a less objectionable defence. What think you of the plan,
+Hansford?"
+
+"Good God!" cried Hansford, "You are not in earnest General Bacon?"
+
+"And why not?" said Bacon, in reply. "If such a course be not adopted,
+at least half of the brave fellows behind us will be slaughtered like
+sheep. While no harm can result to the ladies themselves, beyond the
+inconvenience of a few hours' exposure to the night air, which they
+should willingly endure to preserve life."
+
+Hansford was silent. He knew how useless it was to oppose Bacon when he
+had once resolved. His chivalrous nature revolted at the idea of
+exposing refined and delicate females to such a trial. And yet he could
+not deny that the project if successfully carried out would be the means
+of saving much bloodshed, and of ensuring a speedy and easy victory to
+the insurgents.
+
+"Why, what are you thinking of, man," said Bacon gaily. "I thought my
+project would wound your delicate sensibilities. But to my mind there is
+more real chivalry and more true humanity in sparing brave blood to
+brave hearts, than in sacrificing it to a sickly regard for a woman's
+feelings."
+
+"The time has been when brave blood would have leaped gushing from brave
+hearts," said Hansford proudly, "to protect woman from the slightest
+shadow of insult."
+
+"Most true, my brave Chevalier Bayard," said Bacon, in a tone of
+unaffected good humor, "and shall again--and mine, believe me, will not
+be more sluggish in such a cause than your own. But here no insult is
+intended and none will be given. These fair prisoners shall be treated
+with the respect due to their sex and station. My hand and sword for
+that. But the time has been when woman too was willing to sacrifice her
+shrinking delicacy in defence of her country. Wot ye how Rome was once
+saved by the noble intercession of the wife and mother of Caius
+Marcus--or how the English forces were beaten from the walls of Orleans
+by the heroic Joan, or how--"
+
+"You need not multiply examples," said Hansford interrupting him, "to
+show how women of a noble nature have unsexed themselves to save their
+country. Your illustrations do not apply, for they did voluntarily what
+the ladies of Virginia must do upon compulsion. But, sir, I have no more
+to say. If you persist in this resolution, unchivalrous as I believe it
+to be, yet I will try to see my duty in ameliorating the condition of
+these unhappy females as far as possible."
+
+"And in me you shall have been a most cordial coadjutor," returned
+Bacon. "But, my dear fellow, your chivalry is too shallow. Excuse me, if
+I say that it is all mere sentiment without a substratum of reason. Now
+look you--you would willingly kill in battle the husbands of these
+ladies, and thus inflict a life-long wound upon them, and yet you refuse
+to pursue a course by which lives may be saved, because it subjects them
+to a mere temporary inconvenience. But look again. Have you no sympathy
+left for the wives, no chivalry for the daughters of our own brave
+followers, whose hearts will be saved full many a pang by a stratagem,
+which will ensure the safety of their protectors. Believe me, my dear
+Hansford, if chivalry be nought but a mawkish sentiment, which would
+throw away the real substance of good, to retain the mere shadow
+reflected in its mirror, like the poor dog in the fable--the sooner its
+reign is over the better for humanity."
+
+"But, General Bacon," said Hansford, by no means convinced by the
+sophistry of his plausible leader, "if the future chronicler of whom you
+spoke, should indeed write the history of this enterprise, he will
+record no fact which will reflect less honour upon your name, than that
+you found a means for your defence in the persons of defenceless
+women."
+
+"So let it be, my gallant chevalier," replied Bacon, gaily, determined
+not to be put out of humour by Hansford's grave remonstrance. "But you
+have taught me not to look into future records for my name, or for the
+vindication of my course--and your demure damsel Duty has whispered that
+I am in the path of right. Look ye, Hansford, don't be angry with your
+friend; for I assure you on the honour of a gentleman, that the dames
+themselves will bear testimony to the chivalry of Nathaniel Bacon. And
+besides, my dear fellow, we will not impress any but the sterner old
+dames into our service. You know the older they are the better they will
+serve for material for an _impregnable_ fortress."
+
+So saying, Bacon ordered a halt, and communicating to his soldiers his
+singular design, he detailed Captain Wilford and a party of a dozen men,
+selected on account of their high character, to capture and bring into
+his camp the wives of certain of the royalists, who, though residing in
+the country, had rallied to the support of Sir William Berkeley, on his
+return to Jamestown. In addition to these who were thus found in their
+several homes, the detailed corps had intercepted the carriage of our
+old friend, Colonel Temple; for the old loyalist had no sooner heard of
+the return of Sir William Berkeley, than he hastened to join him at the
+metropolis, leaving his wife and daughter to follow him on the
+succeeding day. What was the consternation and mortification of Thomas
+Hansford as he saw the fair Virginia Temple conducted, weeping, into the
+rude camp of the insurgents, followed by her high-tempered old mother,
+who to use the chaste and classic simile of Tony Lumpkin, "fidgeted and
+spit about like a Catherine wheel."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+    "It is the cry of women, good, my lord."
+                                            _Macbeth._
+
+
+Agreeably with the promise of Bacon, the captured ladies were treated
+with a respect and deference which allayed in a great degree their many
+apprehensions. Still they could not refrain from expressions of the
+strongest indignation at an act so unusual, so violent, and so entirely
+at war with the established notions of chivalry at the time. As the
+reader will readily conjecture, our good friend, Mrs. Temple, was by no
+means the most patient under the wrongs she had endured, and resisting
+the kind attentions of those around her, she was vehement in her
+denunciations of her captors, and in her apprehensions of a thousand
+imaginary dangers.
+
+"Oh my God!" she cried, "I know that they intend to murder us. To think
+of leaving a quiet home, and being exposed to such treatment as this.
+Oh, my precious husband, if he only knew what a situation his poor
+Betsey was in at this moment; but never mind, as sure as I am a living
+woman, he shall know it, and then we will see."
+
+"My dear Mrs. Temple," said Mrs. Ballard, another of the captives, "do
+not give way to your feelings thus. It is useless, and will only serve
+to irritate these men."
+
+"Men! they are not men!" returned the excited old lady, refusing to be
+comforted. "Men never would have treated ladies so. They are base,
+cruel, inhuman wretches, and, as I said before, if I live, to get to
+Jamestown, Colonel Temple shall know of it too--so he shall."
+
+"But reflect, my dear friend, that our present condition is not
+affected by this very natural resolution which you have made, to inform
+your husband of your wrongs. But whatever may be the object of these
+persons, I feel assured that they intend no personal injury to us."
+
+"No personal injury, forsooth; and have we not sustained it already.
+Look at my head-tire, all done up nicely just before I left the hall,
+and now scarcely fit to be seen. And is it nothing to be hauled all over
+the country with a party of ruffians, that I would be ashamed to be
+caught in company with; and who knows what they intend?"
+
+"I admit with you, my dear madam," said Mrs. Ballard, "that such conduct
+is unmanly and inexcusable, and I care not who hears me say so. But
+still," she added in a low voice, "we have the authority of scripture to
+make friends even of the mammon of unrighteousness."
+
+"Friends! I would die first. I who have been moving in the first
+circles, the wife of Colonel Temple, who, if he had chosen, might have
+been the greatest in the land, to make friends with a party of mean,
+sneaking, cowardly ruffians. Never--and I'll speak my mind freely
+too--they shall see that I have a woman's tongue in my head and know how
+to resent these injuries. Oh, for shame! and to wear swords too, which
+used to be the badge of gentlemen and cavaliers, who would rather have
+died than wrong a poor, weak, defenceless woman--much less to rob and
+murder her."
+
+"Well, let us hope for the best, my friend," said Mrs. Ballard; "God
+knows I feel as you do, that we have been grossly wronged; but let us
+remember that we are in the hands of a just and merciful Providence, who
+will do with us according to his holy will."
+
+"I only know that we are in the hands of a parcel of impious and
+merciless wretches," cried the old lady, who, as we have seen on a
+former occasion, derived but little comfort from the consolations of
+religion in the hour of trial. "I hope I have as much religion as my
+fellows, who pretend to so much more--but I should like to know what
+effect that would have on a band of lawless cut-throats?"
+
+"He has given us his holy promise," said Virginia, in a solemn, yet
+hopeful voice of resignation, "that though we walk through the valley
+and the shadow of death, he will be with us--his rod and his staff will
+comfort us--yea, he prepareth a table for us in the presence of our
+enemies, our cup runneth over."
+
+"Well, I reckon I know that as well as you, miss; but it seems there is
+but little chance of having a table prepared for us here," retorted her
+mother, whose fears and indignation had whetted rather than allayed her
+appetite. "But I think it is very unseemly in a young girl to be so calm
+under such circumstances. I know that when I was your age, the bare idea
+of submitting to such an exposure as this would have shocked me out of
+my senses."
+
+Virginia could not help thinking, that considering the lapse of time
+since her mother was a young girl, there had been marvellously little
+change wrought in her keen sensibility to exposure; for she was already
+evidently "shocked out of her senses." But she refrained from expressing
+such a dangerous opinion, and replied, in a sad tone--
+
+"And can you think, my dearest mother, that I do not feel in all its
+force our present awful condition! But, alas! what can we do. As Mrs.
+Ballard truly says, our best course is to endeavour to move the coarse
+sympathies of these rebels, and even if they should not relent, they
+will at least render our condition less fearful by their forbearance and
+respect. Oh, my mother! my only friend in this dark hour of peril and
+misfortune, think not so harshly of your daughter as to suppose that she
+feels less acutely the horrors of her situation, because she fails to
+express her fears." And so saying, the poor girl drew yet closer to her
+mother, and wept upon her bosom.
+
+"I meant not to speak unkindly, dear Jeanie," said the good-hearted old
+lady, "but you know, my child, that when my fears get the better of me,
+I am not myself. It does seem to me, that I was born under some unlucky
+star. Ever since I was born the world has been turning upside down; and
+God knows, I don't know what I have done that it should be so. But
+first, that awful revolution in England, and then, when we came here to
+pass our old days in peace and quiet, this infamous rebellion. And yet I
+must say, I never knew any thing like this. There was at least some show
+of religion among the old Roundheads, and though they were firm and
+demure enough, and hated all kinds of amusement, and cruel enough too
+with all their psalm singing, to cut off their poor king's head, yet
+they always treated women with respect and decency. But, indeed, even
+the rebels of the present day are not what they used to be."
+
+Virginia could scarcely forbear smiling, amid her tears, at this new
+application of her mother's favourite theory. The conversation was here
+interrupted by the approach of a young officer, who, bowing respectfully
+to the bevy of captive ladies, said politely, that he was sorry to
+intrude upon their presence, but that, as it was time to pursue their
+journey, he had come to ask if the ladies would partake of some
+refreshment before their ride.
+
+"If they could share the rough fare of a soldier, it would bestow a
+great favour and honour upon him to attend to their wishes; and indeed,
+as it would be several hours before they could reach Jamestown, they
+would stand in need of some refreshment, ere they arrived at more
+comfortable quarters."
+
+"As your unhappy prisoners, sir," said Mrs. Ballard, with great dignity,
+"we can scarcely object to a soldier's fare. Prisoners have no choice
+but to take the food which the humanity of their jailers sets before
+them. Your apology is therefore needless, if not insulting to our
+misfortunes."
+
+"Well, madam," returned Wilford, in the same respectful tone, "I did not
+mean to offend you, and regret that I have done so through mistaken
+kindness. May I add that, in common with the rest of the army, I deplore
+the necessity which has compelled us to resort to such harsh means
+towards yourselves, in order to ensure success and safety."
+
+"I deeply sympathize with you in your profound regret," said Mrs.
+Ballard, ironically. "But pray tell me, sir, if you learned this very
+novel and chivalric mode of warfare from the savages with whom you have
+been contending, or is it the result of General Bacon's remarkable
+military genius?"
+
+"It is the result of the stern necessity under which we rest, of coping
+with a force far superior to our own. And I trust that while your
+ladyships can suffer but little inconvenience from our course, you will
+not regret your own cares, if thereby you might prevent an effusion of
+blood."
+
+"Oh, that is it," replied Mrs. Ballard, in the same tone of withering
+irony. "I confess that I was dull enough to believe that the
+self-constituted, self-styled champions of freedom had courage enough to
+battle for the right, and not to screen themselves from danger, as a
+child will seek protection behind its mother's apron, from the attack of
+an enraged cow."
+
+"Madam, I will not engage in an encounter of wits with you. I will do
+you but justice when I say that few would come off victors in such a
+contest. But I have a message from one of our officers to this young
+lady, I believe, which I was instructed to reserve for her private ear."
+
+"There is no need for a confidential communication," said Virginia
+Temple, "as I have no secret which I desire to conceal from my mother
+and these companions in misfortune. If, therefore, you have aught to
+say to me, you may say it here, or else leave it unexpressed."
+
+"As you please, my fair young lady," returned Wilford. "My message
+concerns you alone, but if you do not care to conceal it from your
+companions, I will deliver it in their presence. Major Thomas Hansford
+desires me to say, that if you would allow him the honour of an
+interview of a few moments, he would gladly take the opportunity of
+explaining to you the painful circumstances by which you are surrounded,
+in a manner which he trusts may meet with your approbation."
+
+"Say to Major Thomas Hansford," replied Virginia, proudly, "that, as I
+am his captive, I cannot prevent his intrusion into my presence. I
+cannot refuse to hear what he may have to speak. But tell him, moreover,
+that no explanation can justify this last base act, and that no
+reparation can erase it from my memory. Tell him that she who once
+honoured him, and loved him, as all that was noble, and generous, and
+chivalric, now looks back upon the past as on a troubled dream; and
+that, in future, if she should hear his name, she will remember him but
+as one who, cast in a noble mould, might have been worthy of the highest
+admiration, but, defaced by an indelible stain, is cast aside as worthy
+alike of her indignation and contempt."
+
+As the young girl uttered the last fatal words, she sank back into her
+grassy seat by her mother's side, as though exhausted by the effort she
+had made. She had torn with violent resolution from her breast the image
+which had so long been enshrined there--not only as a picture to be
+loved, but as an idol to be worshipped--and though duty had nerved and
+sustained her in the effort, nothing could assuage the anguish it
+inflicted. She did not love him then, but she had loved him; and her
+heart, like the gloomy chamber where death has been, seemed more
+desolate for the absence of that which, though hideous to gaze upon,
+was now gone forever.
+
+Young Wilford was deeply impressed with the scene, and could not
+altogether conceal the emotion which it excited. In a hurried and
+agitated voice he promised to deliver her message to Hansford, and
+bowing again politely to the ladies, he slowly withdrew.
+
+In a few moments one of the soldiers came with the expected refreshment,
+which certainly justified the description which Wilford had given. It
+was both coarse and plain. Jerked venison, which had evidently been the
+property of a stag with a dozen branches to his horns, and some dry and
+moulding biscuit, completed the homely repast. Virginia, and most of her
+companions, declined partaking of the unsavoury viands, but Mrs. Temple,
+though bitterly lamenting her hard fate, in dooming her to such hard
+fare, worked vigorously away at the tough venison with her two remaining
+molars--asserting the while, very positively, that no such venison as
+that existed in her young days, though, to confess the truth, if we may
+judge from the evident age of the deceased animal, it certainly did.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+    "Yet, though dull hate as duty should be taught,
+    I know that thou wilt love me; though my name
+    Should be shut from thee, as a spell still fraught
+    With desolation,--and a broken claim;
+    Though the grave closed between us, 'twere the same."
+                                                _Childe Harold._
+
+
+The daylight had entirely disappeared, and the broad disc of the full
+September moon was just appearing above the eastern horizon, when Bacon
+and his followers resumed their march. Each of the captive ladies was
+placed upon a horse, behind one of the officers, whose heavy riding
+cloak was firmly girt to the horse's back, to provide a more comfortable
+seat. Thus advancing, at a constant, but slow pace, to accommodate the
+wearied soldiers, they pursued their onward course toward Jamestown. It
+was Bacon's object to arrive before the town as early as possible in the
+night, so as to secure the completion of their intrenchments and
+breastworks before the morning, when he intended to commence the siege.
+And now, as they are lighted on their way by the soft rays of the
+autumnal moon, let us hear the conversation which was passing between
+one of the cavaliers and his fair companion, as they rode slowly along
+at some distance from the rest.
+
+We may well suppose that Thomas Hansford, forced thus reluctantly to
+engage in a policy from which his very soul revolted, would not commit
+the charge of Virginia's person to another. She, at least, should learn,
+that though so brutally impressed into the service of the rebel army,
+there was an arm there to shield her from danger and protect her from
+rudeness or abuse. She, at least, should learn that there was one heart
+there, however despised and spurned by others, which beat in its every
+throb for her safety and happiness.
+
+Riding, as we have said, a little slower than the rest, so as to be a
+little out of hearing, he said, in a low voice, tremulous with half
+suppressed emotion, "Miss Temple cannot be ignorant of who her companion
+is?"
+
+"Your voice assures me," replied Virginia, "that my conjecture is right,
+and that I am in the presence of one who was once an honoured friend.
+But had your voice and form changed as entirely as your heart, I could
+never have recognized in the rebel who scruples not to insult a
+defenceless woman, the once gallant and chivalrous Hansford."
+
+"And do you, can you believe that my heart has indeed so thoroughly
+changed?"
+
+"I would fain believe so, else I am forced to the conclusion that I
+have, all my life, been deceived in a character which I deemed worthy of
+my love, while it was only the more black because it was hypocritical."
+
+"Virginia," said Hansford, with desperation, "you shall not talk thus;
+you shall not think thus of me."
+
+"As my captor and jailer," returned the brave hearted young maiden, "Mr.
+Hansford may, probably, by force, control the expression of my
+opinions--but thank God! not even you can control my thoughts. The mind,
+at least, is free, though the body be enslaved."
+
+"Nay, do not mistake my meaning, dear Virginia," said her lover. "But
+alas! I am the victim of misconstruction. Could you, for a moment,
+believe that I was capable of an act which you have justly described as
+unmanly and unchivalrous?"
+
+"What other opinion can I have?" said Virginia. "I find you acting with
+those who are guilty of an act as cowardly as it is cruel. I find you
+tacitly acquiescing in their measures, and aiding in guarding and
+conducting their unhappy captives--and I received from you a message in
+which you pretend to say that you can justify that which is at once
+inexcusable before heaven, and in the court of man's honour. Forgive me,
+if I am unable to separate the innocent from the guilty, and if I fail
+to see that your conduct is more noble in this attempt to shift the
+consequences of your crime upon your confederates."
+
+"Now, by Heaven, you wrong me!" returned Hansford. "My message to you
+was mistaken by Captain Wilford. I never said I could justify your
+capture; I charged him to tell you I could justify myself. And as for my
+being found with those who have committed this unmanly act, as well
+might you be deemed a participator in their actions now, because of your
+presence here. I remonstrated, I protested against such a course--and
+when at last adopted I denounced it as unworthy of men, and far more
+unworthy of soldiers and freemen."
+
+"And yet, when overwhelmed by the voices of others, you quietly
+acquiesce, and remain in companionship with those whose conduct you had
+denounced."
+
+"What else could I do?" urged Hansford. "My feeble arm could not resist
+the action of two hundred-men; and it only remained for me to continue
+here, that I might secure the safety and kind treatment of those who
+were the victims of this rude violence. Alas! how little did I think
+that so soon you would be one of those unhappy victims, and that my
+heart would deplore, for its own sake, a course from which my judgment
+and better nature already revolted."
+
+The scales fell from Virginia's eyes. She now saw clearly the bitter
+trial through which her lover had been called to pass, and recognized
+once more the generous, self-denying nature of Hansford. The stain upon
+his pure fame, to use her own figure, was but the effect of the false
+and deceptive lens through which she had looked, and now that she saw
+clearly, it was restored to its original purity and beauty.
+
+"And is this true, indeed?" she said, in a happy voice. "Believe me,
+Hansford, the relief which I feel at this moment more than compensates
+for all that I have endured. The renewed assurance of your honour atones
+for all. Can you forgive me for harbouring for a moment a suspicion that
+you were aught but the soul of honour?"
+
+"Forgive you, dearest?" returned Hansford. "Most freely--most fully! But
+scarcely can I forgive those who have so wronged you. Cast in a common
+lot with them, and struggling for a common cause, I cannot now withdraw
+from their association; and indeed, Virginia, I will be candid, and tell
+you freely that I would not if I could."
+
+"Alas!" said Virginia, "and what can be the result of your efforts.
+Sooner or later aid must come from England, and crush a rebellion whose
+success has only been ephemeral. And what else can be expected or
+desired, since we have already seen how lost to honour are those by whom
+it is attempted. Would you wish, if you could, to subject your country
+to the sway of men, who, impelled only by their own reckless passions,
+disregard alike the honour due from man and the respect due to woman?"
+
+"You mistake the character of these brave men, Virginia. I believe
+sincerely that General Bacon was prompted to this policy by a real
+desire to prevent the unnecessary loss of life; and though this humanity
+cannot entirely screen his conduct from reprehension, yet it may cast a
+veil over it. Bold and reckless though he be, his powerful mind is
+swayed by many noble feelings; and although he may commit errors, they
+nearly lose their grossness in his ardent love of freedom, and his
+exalted contempt of danger."
+
+"His love of freedom, I presume, is illustrated by his forcible capture
+of unprotected females," returned Virginia; "and his contempt of danger,
+by his desire to interpose his captives between himself and the guns of
+his enemies."
+
+"I have told you," said Hansford, "that this conduct is incapable of
+being justified, and in this I grant that Bacon has grievously erred."
+
+"Then why continue to unite your fortunes to a man whose errors are so
+gross and disgraceful, and whose culpable actions endanger your own
+reputation with your best friends?"
+
+"Because," said Hansford, proudly, "we are engaged in a cause, in the
+full accomplishment of which the faults and errors of its champion will
+be forgotten, and ransomed humanity will learn to bless his name,
+scarcely less bright for the imperfections on its disc."
+
+"Your reasoning reminds me," said Virginia, "of the heretical sect of
+Cainites, of whom my father once told me, who exalted even Judas to a
+hero, because by his treason redemption was effected for the world."
+
+"Well, my dear girl," replied Hansford, "you maintain your position most
+successfully. But since you quote from the history of the Church, I will
+illustrate my position after the manner of a sage old oracle of the law.
+Sir Edward Coke once alluded to the fable, that there was not a bird
+that flitted through the air, but contributed by its donations to
+complete the eagle's nest. And so liberty, whose fittest emblem is the
+eagle, has its home provided and furnished by many who are unworthy to
+enjoy the home which they have aided in preparing. Admit even, if you
+please, that General Bacon is one of these unclean birds, we cannot
+refuse the contribution which he brings in aid of the glorious cause
+which we maintain."
+
+"Aye, but he is like, with his vaulting ambition, to be the eagle
+himself," returned Virginia; "and to say truth, although I have great
+confidence in your protection, I feel like a lone dove in his talons,
+and would wish for a safer home than in his eyrie."
+
+"You need fear no danger, be assured, dearest Virginia," said Hansford,
+"either for yourself or your mother. It is a part of his plan to send
+one of the ladies under our charge into the city, to apprise the
+garrison of our strange manoeuvre; and I have already his word, that
+your mother and yourself will be the bearers of this message. In a few
+moments, therefore, your dangers will be past, and you will once more be
+in the arms of your noble old father."
+
+"Oh thanks, thanks, my generous protector," cried the girl, transported
+at this new prospect of her freedom. "I can never forget your kindness,
+nor cease to regret that I could ever have had a doubt of your honour
+and integrity."
+
+"Oh forget that," returned Hansford, "or remember it only that you may
+acknowledge that it is often better to bear with the circumstances which
+we cannot control, than by hasty opposition to lose the little influence
+we may possess with those in power. But see the moonlight reflected from
+the steeple of yonder church. We are within sight of Jamestown, and you
+will be soon at liberty. And oh! Virginia," he said sorrowfully, "if it
+should be decreed in the book of fate, that when we part to-night we
+part forever, and if the name of Hansford be defamed and vilified, you
+at least, I know, will rescue his honour from reproach--and one tear
+from my faithful Virginia, shed upon a patriot's grave, will atone for
+all the infamy which indignant vengeance may heap upon my name."
+
+So saying, he spurred his horse rapidly onward, until he overtook Bacon,
+who, with the precious burden under his care, as usual, led the way. And
+a precious burden it might well be called, for by the light of the moon
+the reader could have no difficulty in recognizing in the companion of
+the young general of the insurgents, our old acquaintance, Mrs. Temple.
+In the earlier part of their journey she had by no means contributed to
+the special comfort of her escort--now, complaining bitterly of the
+roughness of the road, she would grasp him around the waist with both
+arms, until he was in imminent peril of falling from his horse, and then
+when pacified by a smoother path and an easier gait, she would burst
+forth in a torrent of invective against the cowardly rebels who would
+misuse a poor old woman so. Bacon, however, while alike regardless of
+her complaints of the road, the horse, or himself, did all in his power
+to mollify the old lady, by humouring her prejudices as well as he
+could; and when he at last informed her of the plan by which she and her
+daughter would so soon regain their liberty, her temper relaxed, and she
+became highly communicative. She was, indeed, deep in a description of
+some early scenes of her life, and was telling how she had once seen the
+bonnie young Charley with her own eyes, when he was hiding from the
+pursuit of the Roundheads, and how he commended her loyalty, and above
+all her looks; and promised when he came to his own to bestow a peerage
+on her husband for his faithful adherence to the cause of his king. The
+narrative had already lasted an hour or more when Hansford and Virginia
+rode up and arrested the conversation, much to the relief of Bacon, who
+was gravely debating in his own mind whether it was more agreeable to
+hear the good dame's long-winded stories about past loyalty, or to
+submit to her vehement imprecations on present rebellion.
+
+The young general saluted Virginia courteously as she approached,
+expressing the hope that she had not suffered from her exposure to the
+night air, and then turned to Hansford, and engaged in conversation with
+him on matters of interest connected with the approaching contest.
+
+But as his remarks will be more fully understood, and his views
+developed in the next chapter, we forbear to record them here. Suffice
+it to say, that among other things it was determined, that immediately
+upon their arrival before Jamestown, Mrs. Temple and Virginia, under the
+escort of Hansford, should be conducted to the gate of the town, and
+convey to the Governor and his adherents the intelligence of the capture
+of the wives of the loyalists. We will only so far anticipate the
+regular course of our narrative as to say, that this duty was performed
+without being attended with any incident worthy of special remark; and
+that Hansford, bidding a sad farewell to Virginia and her mother,
+committed them to the care of the sentinel at the gate, and returned
+slowly and sorrowfully to the insurgent camp.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+    "How yet resolves the Governor of the town?
+    This is the latest parle we will admit.
+    If I begin the battery once again,
+    I will not leave the half achieved Harfleur,
+    Till in her ashes she lie buried."
+                                    _King Henry V._
+
+
+And now was heard on the clear night air the shrill blast of a solitary
+trumpet breathing defiance, and announcing to the besieged loyalists,
+the presence of the insurgents before the walls of Jamestown. Exhausted
+by their long march, and depressed by the still gloomy prospect before
+them, the thinned ranks of the rebel army required all the encouraging
+eloquence of their general, to urge them forward in their perilous duty.
+Nor did they need it long. Drawing his wearied, but faithful followers
+around him, the young and ardent enthusiast addressed them in language
+like the following:
+
+     "SOLDIERS,"
+
+     "Animated by a desire to free your country from the incursions of a
+     savage foe, you have crowned your arms with victory and your lives
+     with honor. You have annihilated the Indian power in Virginia, and
+     in the waters of the brook which was the witness of your victory,
+     you have washed away the stains of its cruelty. The purple blood
+     which dyed that fatal stream, has even now passed away; Yet your
+     deeds shall survive in the name which you have given it. And future
+     generations, when they look upon its calm and unstained bosom, will
+     remember with grateful hearts, those brave men who have given
+     security to their homes, and will bless your patriot names when
+     they repeat the story of Bloody Run.
+
+     "For this you have been proclaimed traitors to your country and
+     rebels to your king. Traitors to a country within whose borders the
+     Indian war whoop has been hushed by your exertions! Rebels to your
+     king for preserving Virginia, the brightest jewel in his crown,
+     from inevitable ruin! But though you have accomplished much, much
+     yet remains undone. Then nerve your stout hearts and gird on your
+     armour once more for the contest. Though your enemies are not to be
+     despised, they are not to be feared. _They_ fight as mercenaries
+     uninspired by the cause which they have espoused. _You_ battle for
+     freedom, for honor and for life. Your freedom is threatened by the
+     oppressions of a relentless tyrant and a subservient Assembly. Your
+     honor is assailed, for you are publicly branded as traitors. Your
+     lives are proscribed by those who have basely charged your
+     patriotism as treason, and your defence of your country as
+     rebellion. Be not dismayed with the numbers of your foes. Think
+     only that it is yours to lessen them. Remember that Peace can never
+     come to you, though you woo it never so sweetly. You must go to it,
+     even though your way thither lay through a sea of blood. You will
+     find me ever where danger is thickest. I will share your peril now
+     and your reward hereafter."
+
+Inspired with new ardour, by the words and still more by the example of
+their leader, the soldiers proceeded to the task of constructing a
+breastwork for their defence. Bacon himself at imminent risk to his
+person, drew with his own hands the line for the entrenchment, while the
+soldiers prepared for themselves a secure defence from attack by a
+breastwork composed of felled trees, earth, and brushwood. It was a
+noble sight, I ween, to see these hardy patriots of the olden time,
+nearly sinking under fatigue, yet working cheerfully and ardently in the
+cause of freedom--to hear their axes ringing merrily through the still
+night air, and the tall forest trees falling with a heavy crash, as they
+were preparing their rude fortifications; and to look up on the cold,
+silent moon, as she watched them from her high path in heaven, and you
+might almost think, smiled with cold disdain, to think that all their
+hopes would be blasted, and their ardour checked by defeat, while she in
+her pride of fulness would traverse that same high arch twelve hundred
+times before the day-star of freedom dawned upon the land.
+
+Meantime the besieged loyalists having heard with surprise and
+consternation, the story of Mrs. Temple and Virginia, were completely
+confounded. Fearing to fire a single gun, lest the ball intended for
+their adversaries might pierce the heart of some innocent woman, they
+were forced to await with impatience the completion of the works of the
+insurgents. The latter had not the same reason for forbearance, and made
+several successful sorties upon the palisades, which surrounded the
+town, effecting several breaches, and killing some men, but without loss
+to any their own party. Furious at the successful stratagems of the
+rebels and fearing an accession to their number from the surrounding
+country, Sir William Berkeley at length determined to make a sally from
+the town, and test the strength and courage of his adversaries in an
+open field. Bacon, meanwhile, having effected his object in securing a
+sufficient fortification, with much courtesy dismissed the captive
+ladies, who went, rejoicing at their liberation, to tell the story of
+their wrongs to their loyal husbands.
+
+The garrison of Jamestown consisting of about twenty cavalier loyalists,
+and eight hundred raw, undisciplined recruits, picked up by Berkeley
+during his stay in Accomac, were led on firmly towards the entrenchments
+of the rebels, by Beverley and Ludwell, who stood high in the confidence
+of the Governor, and in the esteem of the colony, as brave and
+chivalrous men. Among the subordinate officers in the garrison was
+Alfred Bernard, rejoicing in the commission of captain, but recently
+conferred, and burning to distinguish himself in a contest against the
+rebels. From their posts behind the entrenchment, the insurgents calmly
+watched the approach of their foes. Undismayed by their numbers, nearly
+four times as great as their own, they awaited patiently the signal of
+their general to begin the attack. Bacon, on his part, with all the
+ardour of his nature, possessed in an equal degree the coolness and
+prudence of a great general, and was determined not to risk a fire,
+until the enemy was sufficiently near to ensure heavy execution. When at
+length the front line of the assailants advanced within sixty yards of
+the entrenchment, he gave the word, which was obeyed with tremendous
+effect, and then without leaving their posts, they prepared to renew
+their fire. But it was not necessary. Despite the exhortations and
+prayers of their gallant officers, the royal army, dismayed at the first
+fire of the enemy, broke ranks and retreated, leaving their drum and
+their dead upon the field. In vain did Ludwell exhort them, in the name
+of the king, to return to the assault; in vain did the brave Beverley
+implore them as Virginians and Englishmen not to desert their colors; in
+vain did Alfred Bernard conjure them to retrieve the character of
+soldiers and of men, and to avenge the cause of wronged and insulted
+women upon the cowardly oppressors. Regardless alike of king, country or
+the laws of gallantry, the soldiers ran like frightened sheep, from
+their pursuers, nor stopped in their flight until once more safely
+ensconced behind their batteries, and under the protection of the cannon
+from the ships. The brave cavaliers looked aghast at this cowardly
+defection, and stood for a moment irresolute, with the guns of the
+insurgents bearing directly upon them. Bacon could easily have fired
+upon them with certain effect, but with the magnanimity of a brave man,
+he was struck with admiration for their dauntless courage, and with pity
+for their helplessness. Nor was he by any means anxious to pursue them,
+for he feared lest a victory so easily won, might be a stratagem of the
+enemy, and that by venturing to pursue, he might fall into an ambuscade.
+Contenting himself, therefore, with the advantage he had already gained,
+he remained behind his entrenchment, determined to wait patiently for
+the morrow, before he commenced another attack upon the town.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+    "Let's leave this town; for they are hairbrained slaves,
+    And hunger will enforce them to be more eager.
+    Of old I know them; rather with their teeth
+    The walls they'll tear down, than forsake the siege."
+                                                  _King Henry VI._
+
+
+It was very late, but there were few in Jamestown on that last night of
+its existence that cared to sleep. Those who were not kept awake by the
+cares of state or military duties, were yet suffering from an intense
+apprehension, which denied them repose. There was "hurrying to and fro,"
+along Stuart street, and "whispering with white lips," among the
+thronging citizens. Ever siding with the stronger party, and inclined to
+attribute to the besieged Governor the whole catalogue of evils under
+which the colony was groaning, many of the lower classes of the citizens
+expressed their sympathy with Nathaniel Bacon, and only awaited a secret
+opportunity to desert to his ranks. A conspiracy was ripening among the
+soldiery to open the gates to the insurgents, and surrender at once the
+town and the Governor into their hands--but over-awed by the resolute
+boldness of their leader, and wanting in the strength of will to act for
+themselves, they found it difficult to carry their plan into execution.
+
+Sir William Berkeley, with a few of his steady adherents and faithful
+friends, was anxiously awaiting, in the large hall of the palace, the
+tidings of the recent sally upon the besiegers. Notwithstanding the
+superior numbers of his men, he had but little confidence either in
+their loyalty or courage, while he was fully conscious of the desperate
+bravery of the insurgents. While hope whispered that the little band of
+rebels must yield to the overwhelming force of the garrison, fear
+interposed, to warn him of the danger of defection and cowardice in his
+ranks. As thus he sat anxiously endeavouring to guess the probable
+result of his sally, heavy footsteps were heard ascending the stairs.
+The heart of the old Governor beat thick with apprehension, and the damp
+drops wrung from him by anxiety and care, stood in cold beads upon his
+brow.
+
+"What news?" he cried, in a hoarse, agitated voice, as Colonel Ludwell,
+Robert Beverley, and Alfred Bernard entered the room. "But I read it in
+your countenances! All is lost!"
+
+"Yes, Governor Berkeley," said Philip Ludwell, "all is lost! we have not
+even the melancholy consolation of Francis, 'that our honour is
+preserved.' The cowardly hinds who followed us, fled from the first
+charge of the rebels, like frightened hares. All attempts to rally them
+were in vain, and many of them we understand have joined with the
+rebels."
+
+As the fatal tidings fell upon his ear, Berkeley pressed his hand to his
+forehead, and sobbed aloud. The heart of the brave old loyalist could
+bear no more--and all the haughty dignity of his nature gave way in a
+flood of bitter tears. But the effect was only transient, and nerving
+himself, he controlled his feelings once more by the energy of his iron
+will.
+
+"How many still remain with us?" he asked, anxiously, of Ludwell.
+
+"Alas! sir, if the rumour which we heard as we came hither be
+true--none, absolutely none. There was an immense crowd gathered around
+the tavern, listening to the news of our defeat from one of the
+soldiers, and as we passed a loud and insulting cry went up of "Long
+live Bacon! and down with tyranny!" The soldiers declared that they
+would not stain their hands with the blood of their fellow-subjects; the
+citizens as vehemently declared that the town itself should not long
+harbour those who had trampled on their rights. Treason stalks abroad
+boldly and openly, and I fear that the loyalty of Virginia is confined
+to this room."
+
+"Now, Heaven help me," said Berkeley, sadly, "for the world has well
+nigh deserted me. And yet, if I fall, I shall fall at my post, and the
+trust bestowed upon me by my king shall be yielded only with my life."
+
+"It were madness to think of remaining longer here," said Beverley; "the
+rebels, with the most consummate courage, evince the most profound
+prudence and judgment. Before the dawn they will bring their cannon to
+bear upon our ships and force them to withdraw from the harbour, and
+then all means of escape being cut off, we will be forced to surrender
+on such terms as the enemy may dictate."
+
+"We will yield to no terms," replied Berkeley. "For myself, death is far
+preferable to dishonour. Rather than surrender the trust which I have in
+charge, let us remain here, until, like the brave senators of Rome, we
+are hacked to pieces at our posts by the swords of these barbarians."
+
+"But what can you expect to gain by such a desperate course," said old
+Ballard, who, though not without a sufficient degree of courage, would
+prefer rather to admire the heroism of the Roman patriots in history,
+than to vie with them in their desperate resolution.
+
+"I expect to retain my honour," cried the brave old Governor. "A brave
+man may suffer death--he can never submit to dishonour."
+
+"My honoured Governor," said Major Beverley, whose well-known courage
+and high-toned chivalry gave great effect to his counsel; "believe me,
+that we all admire your steady loyalty and your noble heroism. But
+reflect, that you gain nothing by desperation, and it is the part of
+true courage not to hazard a desperate risk without any hope of success.
+God knows that I would willingly yield up my own life to preserve
+unsullied the honour of my country, and the dignity of my king; but I
+doubt how far we serve his real interests by a deliberate sacrifice of
+all who are loyal to his cause."
+
+"And what then would you advise?" said the Governor, in an irritated
+manner. "To make a base surrender of our persons and our cause, and to
+grant to these insolent rebels every concession which their insolence
+may choose to demand? No! gentlemen, sooner would William Berkeley
+remain alone at his post, until his ashes mingled with the ashes of this
+palace, than yield one inch to rebels in arms."
+
+"It is not necessary," returned Beverley. "You may escape without loss
+of life or compromise of honour, and reserve until a future day your
+vengeance on these disloyal barbarians."
+
+Berkeley was silent.
+
+"Look," continued Beverley, leading the old loyalist to the window which
+overlooked the river; "by the light of dawn you can see the white sails
+of the Adam and Eve, as she rests at anchor in yonder harbor. There is
+still time to escape before the rebels can suspect our design. Once upon
+the deck of that little vessel, with her sails unfurled to this rising
+breeze, you may defy the threats of the besiegers. Then once more to
+your faithful Accomac, and when the forces from England shall arrive,
+trained bands of loyal and brave Britons, your vengeance shall then be
+commensurate with the indignities you have suffered."
+
+Still Berkeley hesitated, but his friends could see by the quiver of his
+lip, that the struggle was still going on, and that he was thinking with
+grim satisfaction of that promised vengeance.
+
+"Let me urge you," continued Beverley, encouraged by the effect which he
+was evidently producing; "let me urge you to a prompt decision. Will you
+remain longer in Jamestown, this nest of traitors, and expose your
+faithful adherents to certain death? Is loyalty so common in Virginia,
+that you will suffer these brave supporters of your cause to be
+sacrificed? Will you leave their wives and daughters, whom they can no
+longer defend, to the insults and outrages of a band of lawless
+adventurers, who have shown that they disregard the rights of men, and
+the more sacred deference due to a woman? We have done all that became
+us, as loyal citizens, to do. We have sustained the standard of the king
+until it were madness, not courage, further to oppose the designs of the
+rebels. Beset by a superior force, and with treason among our own
+citizens, and defection among our own soldiers--with but twenty stout
+hearts still true and faithful to their trust--our alternative is
+between surrender and death on the one hand, and flight and future
+vengeance on the other. Can you longer hesitate between the two? But
+see, the sky grows brighter toward the east, and the morning comes to
+increase the perils of the night. I beseech you, by my loyalty and my
+devotion to your interest, decide quickly and wisely."
+
+"I will go," replied Berkeley, after a brief pause, in a voice choking
+with emotion. "But God is my witness, that if I only were concerned,
+rebellion should learn that there was a loyalist who held his sacred
+trust so near his heart, that it could only be yielded with his
+life-blood. But why should I thus boast? Do with me as you please--I
+will go."
+
+No sooner was Berkeley's final decision known, than the whole palace was
+in a state of preparation. Hurriedly putting up such necessaries as
+would be needed in their temporary exile, the loyalists were soon ready
+for their sudden departure. Lady Frances, stately as ever, remained
+perhaps rather longer before her mirror, in the arrangement of her tire,
+than was consistent with their hasty flight. Virginia Temple scarcely
+devoted a moment for her own preparations, so constantly was her
+assistance required by her mother, who bustled about from trunk to
+trunk, in a perfect agony of haste--found she had locked up her mantle,
+which was in the very bottom of an immense trunk, and finally, when she
+had put her spectacles and keys in her pocket, declared that they were
+lost, and required Virginia to search in every hole and corner of the
+room for them. But with all these delays--ever incident to ladies, and
+old ones especially, when starting on a journey--the little party were
+at length announced to be ready for their "moonlight flitting." Sadly
+and silently they left the palace to darkness and solitude, and
+proceeded towards the river. At the bottom of the garden, which ran down
+to the banks of the river, were two large boats, belonging to the
+Governor, and which were often used in pleasure excursions. In these the
+fugitives embarked, and under the muscular efforts of the strong
+oarsmen, the richly freighted boats scudded rapidly through the water
+towards the good ship "Adam and Eve," which lay at a considerable
+distance from the shore, to avoid the guns of the insurgents.
+
+Alfred Bernard had the good fortune to have the fair Virginia under his
+immediate charge; but the hearts of both were too full to improve the
+opportunity with much conversation. The young intriguer, who cared but
+little in his selfish heart for either loyalists or rebels, still felt
+that he had placed his venture on a wrong card, and was about to lose.
+The hopes of preferment which he had cherished were about to be
+dissipated by the ill fortune of his patron, and the rival of his love,
+crowned with success, he feared, might yet bear away the prize which he
+had so ardently coveted. Virginia Temple had more generous cause for
+depression than he. Hers was the hard lot to occupy a position of
+neutrality in interest between the contending parties. Whichever faction
+in the State succeeded, she must be a mourner; for, in either case, she
+was called upon to sacrifice an idol which she long had cherished, and
+which she must now yield for ever. They sat together near the stern of
+the boat, and watched the moonlight diamonds which sparkled for a moment
+on the white spray that dropped from the dripping oar, and then passed
+away.
+
+"It is thus," said Bernard, with a heavy sigh. "It is thus with this
+present transient life. We dance for a moment upon the white waves of
+fortune, rejoicing in light and hope and joy--but the great, unfeeling
+world rolls on, regardless of our little life, while we fade even while
+we sparkle, and our places are supplied by others, who in their turn,
+dance and shine, and smile, and pass away, and are forgotten!"
+
+"It is even so," said Virginia, sadly--then turning her blue eyes
+upward, she added, sweetly, "but see, Mr. Bernard, the moon which shines
+so still and beautiful in heaven, partakes not of the changes of these
+reflected fragments of her brightness. So we, when reunited to the
+heaven from which our spirits came, will shine again unchangeable and
+happy."
+
+"Yes, my sweet one," replied her lover passionately, "and were it my
+destiny to be ever thus with you, and to hear the sweet eloquence of
+your pure lips, I would not need a place in heaven to be happy."
+
+"Mr. Bernard," said Virginia, "is this a time or place to speak thus?
+The circumstances by which we are surrounded should check every selfish
+thought for the time, in our care for the more important interests at
+stake."
+
+"My fair, young loyalist," said Bernard, "and is it because of the
+interest excited in your bosom by the fading cause of loyalty, that you
+check so quickly the slightest word of admiration from one whom you have
+called your friend? Nay, fair maiden, be truthful even though you
+should be cruel."
+
+"To be candid, then, Mr. Bernard," returned Virginia, "I thought we had
+long ago consented not to mention that subject again. I hope you will be
+faithful to your promise."
+
+"My dearest Virginia, that compact was made when your heart had been
+given to another whom you thought worthy to reign there. Surely, you
+cannot, after the events of to-night oppose such an obstacle to my suit.
+Your gentle heart, my girl, is too pure and holy a shrine to afford
+refuge to a rebel, and a profaner of woman's sacred rights."
+
+"Mr. Bernard," said Virginia, "another word on this subject, and I seek
+refuge myself from your insults. You, who are the avowed champion of
+woman's rights, should know that she owns no right so sacred as to
+control the affections of her own heart. I have before told you in terms
+too plain to be misunderstood, that I can never love you. Force me not
+to repeat what you profess may give you pain, and above all force me not
+by your unwelcome and ungenerous assaults upon an absent rival to
+substitute for the real interest which I feel in your happiness, a
+feeling more strong and decided, but less friendly."
+
+"You mean that you would hate me," said Bernard, cut to the heart at her
+language, at once so firm and decided, yet so guarded and courteous.
+"Very well," he added, with an hauteur but illy assumed. "I trust I have
+more independence and self-respect than to intrude my attentions or
+conversation where they are unwelcome. But see, our journey is at an
+end, and though Miss Temple might have made it more pleasant, I am glad
+that we are freed from the embarrassment that we both must feel in a
+more extended interview."
+
+And now the loud voice of Captain Gardiner is heard demanding their
+names and wishes, which are soon told. The hoarse cable grates harshly
+along the ribs of the vessel, and the boats are drawn up close to her
+broadside, and the loyal fugitives ascending the rude and tremulous
+rope-ladder, stand safe and sound upon the deck of the Adam and Eve.
+
+Scarcely had Berkeley and his adherents departed on their flight from
+Jamestown, when some of the disaffected citizens of the town, seeing the
+lights in the palace so suddenly extinguished, shrewdly suspected their
+design. Without staying to ascertain the truth of their suspicions, they
+hastened with the intelligence to General Bacon, and threw open the
+gates to the insurgents. Highly elated with the easy victory they had
+gained over the loyalists, the triumphant patriots forgetting their
+fatigue and hunger, marched into the city, amid the loud acclamations of
+the fickle populace. But to the surprise of all there was still a gloom
+resting upon Bacon and his officers. That cautious and far-seeing man
+saw at a glance, that although he had gained an immense advantage over
+the royalists, in the capture of the metropolis, it was impossible to
+retain it in possession long. As soon as his army was dispersed, or
+engaged in another quarter of the colony, it would be easy for Berkeley,
+with the navy under his command, to return to the place, and erect once
+more the fallen standard of loyalty.
+
+While then, the soldiery were exulting rapturously over their triumph,
+Bacon, surrounded by his officers, was gravely considering the best
+policy to pursue.
+
+"My little army is too small," he said, "to leave a garrison here, and
+so long as they remain thus organized peace will be banished from the
+colony; and yet I cannot leave the town to become again the harbour of
+these treacherous loyalists."
+
+"I can suggest no policy that is fit to pursue, in such an emergency,"
+said Hansford, "except to retain possession of the town, at least until
+the Governor is fairly in Accomac again."
+
+"That, at best," said Bacon, "will only be a dilatory proceeding, for
+sooner or later, whenever the army is disbanded, the stubborn old
+governor will return and force us to continue the war. And besides I
+doubt whether we could maintain the place with Brent besieging us in
+front, and the whole naval force of Virginia, under the command of such
+expert seamen as Gardiner and Larimore, attacking us from the river. No,
+no, the only way to untie the Gordian knot is to cut it, and the only
+way to extricate ourselves from this difficulty is to burn the town."
+
+This policy, extreme as it was, in the necessities of their condition
+was received with a murmur of assent. Lawrence and Drummond, devoted
+patriots, and two of the wealthiest and most enterprising citizens of
+the town, evinced their willingness to sacrifice their private means to
+secure the public good, by firing their own houses. Emulating an example
+so noble and disinterested, other citizens followed in their wake. The
+soldiers, ever ready for excitement, joined in the fatal work. A stiff
+breeze springing up, favored their design, and soon the devoted town was
+enveloped in the greedy flames.
+
+From the deck of the Adam and Eve, the loyalists witnessed the stern,
+uncompromising resolution of the rebels. The sun was just rising, and
+his broad, red disc was met in his morning glory with flames as bright
+and as intense as his own. The Palace, the State House, the large Garter
+Tavern, the long line of stores, and the Warehouse, all in succession
+were consumed. The old Church, the proud old Church, where their fathers
+had worshipped, was the last to meet its fate. The fire seemed unwilling
+to attack its sacred walls, but it was to fall with the rest; and as the
+broad sails of the gay vessel were spread to the morning breeze, which
+swelled them, that devoted old Church was seen in its raiment of fire,
+like some old martyr, hugging the flames which consumed it, and pointing
+with its tapering steeple to an avenging Heaven.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+    "We take no note of time but by its loss."
+                                            _Young._
+
+
+It is permitted to the story teller, like the angels of ancient
+metaphysicians, to pass from point to point, and from event to event,
+without traversing the intermediate space or time. A romance thus
+becomes a moving panorama, where the prominent objects of interest pass
+in review before the eyes of the spectator, and not an atlas or chart,
+where the toiling student, with rigid scrutiny must seek the latitude
+and longitude of every object which meets his view.
+
+Availing ourselves of this privilege, we will pass rapidly over the
+events which occurred subsequently to the burning of Jamestown, and
+again resume the narrative where it more directly affects the fortunes
+of Hansford and Virginia. We will then suppose that it is about the
+first of January, 1677, three months after the circumstances detailed in
+the last chapter. Nathaniel Bacon, the arch rebel, as the loyal
+historians and legislators of his day delighted to call him, has passed
+away from the scenes of earth. The damp trenches of Jamestown, more
+fatal than the arms of his adversaries, have stilled the restless
+beating of that bold heart, which in other circumstances might have
+insured success to the cause of freedom. An industrious compiler of the
+laws of Virginia, and an ingenious commentator on her Colonial History,
+has suggested from the phraseology of one of the Acts of the Assembly,
+that Bacon met his fate by the dagger of the assassin, employed by the
+revengeful Berkeley. But the account of his death is too authentic to
+admit of such a supposition, and the character of Sir William Berkeley,
+already clouded with relentless cruelty, is happily freed from the foul
+imputation, that to the prejudices and sternness of the avenging
+loyalist he added the atrocity of a malignant fiend. We have the most
+authentic testimony, that Nathaniel Bacon died of a dysentery,
+contracted by his exposure in the trenches of Jamestown, at the house of
+a Dr. Pate, in the county of Gloucester; and that the faithful Lawrence,
+to screen his insensate clay from the rude vengeance of the Governor,
+gave the young hero a grave in some unknown forest, where after life's
+fitful fever he sleeps well.
+
+The cause of freedom, having lost its head, fell a prey to discord and
+defection. In the selection of a leader to succeed the gallant Bacon,
+dissensions prevailed among the insurgents, and disgusted at last with
+the trials to which they were exposed, and wearied with the continuance
+of a civil war, the great mass of the people retired quietly to their
+homes. Ingram and Walklate, who attempted to revive the smouldering
+ashes of the rebellion, were the embodiments of frivolity and stupidity,
+and were unable to retain that influence over the stern and high-toned
+patriots which was essential to united action. Deprived of their
+support, as may be easily conjectured, there was no longer any
+difficulty in suppressing the ill-fated rebellion; and Walklate,
+foreseeing the consequences of further resistance, resolved to make a
+separate peace for himself and a few personal friends, and to leave his
+more gallant comrades to their fate. The terms of treaty proposed by
+Berkeley were dispatched by Captain Gardiner to the selfish leader, who,
+with the broken remnant of the insurgents, was stationed at West Point.
+He acceded to the terms with avidity, and thus put a final end to a
+rebellion, which, even at that early day, was so near securing the
+blessings of rational freedom to Virginia.
+
+Meantime, the long expected aid from England had arrived, and Berkeley,
+with an organized and reliable force at his command, prepared, with grim
+satisfaction, to execute his terrible vengeance upon the proscribed and
+fugitive insurgents. Major Beverley, at the head of a considerable
+force, was dispatched in pursuit of such of the unhappy men as might
+linger secreted in the woods and marshes near the river--and smaller
+parties were detailed for the same object in other parts of the colony.
+Many of the fugitives were captured and brought before the relentless
+Governor. There, mocked and insulted in their distress, the devoted
+patriots were condemned by a court martial, and with cruel haste hurried
+to execution. The fate of the gallant Lawrence, to whom incidental
+allusion has been frequently made in the foregoing pages, was long
+uncertain--but at last those interested in his fate were forced to the
+melancholy conclusion, that well nigh reduced to starvation in his
+marshy fastness, with Roman firmness, the brave patriot fell by his own
+hand, rather than submit to the ruthless cruelty of the vindictive
+Governor.
+
+Thomas Hansford was among those who were proscribed fugitives from the
+vengeance of the loyalists. He had in vain endeavoured to rally the
+dispirited insurgents, and to hazard once more the event of a battle
+with the royal party. He indignantly refused to accept the terms, so
+readily embraced by Walklate, and determined to share the fate of those
+brave comrades, in whose former triumph he had participated. And now, a
+lonely wanderer, he eluded the vigilant pursuit of his enemies, awaiting
+with anxiety, the respite which royal interposition would grant, to the
+unabating vengeance of the governor. He was not without strong hope that
+the clemency which reflected honour on Charles the Second, towards the
+enemies of his father, would be extended to the promoters of the
+ill-fated rebellion in Virginia. In default of this, he trusted to make
+his escape into Maryland, after the eagerness of pursuit was over, and
+there secretly to embark for England--where, under an assumed name, he
+might live out the remnant of his days in peace and security, if not in
+happiness. It was with a heavy heart that he looked forward to even this
+remote chance of escape and safety--for it involved the necessity of
+leaving, for ever, his widowed mother, who leaned upon his strong arm
+for support; and his beloved Virginia, in whose smiles of favour, he
+could alone be happy. Still, it was the only honourable chance that
+offered, and while as a brave man he had nerved himself for any fate, as
+a good man, he could not reject the means of safety which were extended
+to him.
+
+While these important changes were taking place in the political world,
+the family at Windsor Hall were differently affected by the result.
+Colonel Temple, in the pride of his gratified loyalty, could not
+disguise his satisfaction even from his unhappy daughter, and rubbed his
+hands gleefully as the glad tidings came that the rebellion had been
+quelled. The old lady shared his happiness with all her heart, but
+mingled with her joy some of the harmless vanity of her nature. She
+attributed the happy result in a good degree to the counsel and wisdom
+of her husband, and recurred with great delight to her own bountiful
+hospitality to the fugitive loyalists. Nay, in the excess of her
+self-gratulation, she even hinted an opinion, that if Colonel Temple had
+remained in England, the cause of loyalty would have been much advanced,
+and that General Monk would not have borne away the palm of having
+achieved the glorious restoration.
+
+But these loyal sentiments of gratulation met with no response in the
+heart of Virginia Temple. The exciting scenes through which she had
+lately passed had left their traces on her young heart. No more the
+laughing, thoughtless, happy girl whom we have known, shedding light and
+gaiety on all around her, she had gained, in the increased strength and
+development of her character, much to compensate for the loss. The
+furnace which evaporates the lighter particles of the ore, leaves the
+precious metal in their stead. Thus is it with the trying furnace of
+affliction in the formation of the human character, and such was its
+effect upon Virginia. She no longer thought or felt as a girl. She felt
+that she was a woman, called upon to act a woman's part; and relying on
+her strengthened nature, but more upon the hand whose protection she had
+early learned to seek, she was prepared to act that part. The fate of
+Hansford was unknown to her. She had neither seen nor heard from him
+since that awful night, when she parted from him at the gate of
+Jamestown. Convinced of his high sense of honour, and his heroic daring,
+she knew that he was the last to desert a falling cause, and she
+trembled for his life, should he fall into the hands of the enraged and
+relentless Berkeley. But even if her fears in this respect were
+groundless, the future was still dark to her. The bright dream which she
+had cherished, that he to whom, in the trusting truth of her young
+heart, she had plighted her troth, would share with her the joys and
+hopes of life, was now, alas! dissipated forever. A proscribed rebel, an
+outcast from home, her father's loyal prejudices were such that she
+could never hope to unite her destiny with Hansford. And yet, dreary as
+the future had become, she bore up nobly in the struggle, and, with
+patient submission, resigned her fate to the will of Heaven.
+
+Her chief employment now was to train the mind of the young Mamalis to
+truth, and in this sacred duty she derived new consolation in her
+affliction. The young Indian girl had made Windsor Hall her home since
+the death of her brother. The generous nature of Colonel Temple could
+not refuse to the poor orphan, left alone on earth without a protector,
+a refuge and a home beneath his roof. Nor were the patient and prayerful
+instructions of Virginia without their reward. The light which had long
+been struggling to obtain an entrance to her heart, now burst forth in
+the full effulgence of the truth, and the trusting Mamalis had felt, in
+all its beauty and reality, the assurance of the promise, "Come unto me
+all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Her
+manners, which, with all of her association with Virginia, had something
+of the wildness of the savage, were now softened and subdued. Her
+picturesque but wild costume, which reminded her of her former life, was
+discarded for the more modest dress which the refinement of civilization
+had prescribed. Her fine, expressive countenance, which had often been
+darkened by reflecting the wild passions of her unsubdued heart, was now
+radiant with peaceful joy; and as you gazed upon the softened
+expression, the tranquil and composed bearing of the young girl, you
+might well "take knowledge of her that she had been with Jesus."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+    "Farewell and blessings on thy way,
+      Where'r thou goest, beloved stranger,
+    Better to sit and watch that ray,
+    And think thee safe though far away,
+      Than have thee near me and in danger."
+                                      _Lalla Roohk._
+
+
+Moonlight at Windsor Hall! The waning, January moon shone coldly and
+brightly, as it rose above the dense forest which surrounded the once
+more peaceful home of Colonel Temple. The tall poplars which shaded the
+quiet yard were silvered with its light, and looked like medieval
+knights all clad in burnished and glistening mail. The crisp hoarfrost
+that whitened the frozen ground sparkled in the mellow beams, like
+twinkling stars, descended to earth, and drinking in with rapture the
+clear light of their native heaven. Not a sound was heard save the
+dreary, wintry blast, as it sighed its mournful requiem over the dead
+year, "gone from the earth for ever."
+
+Virginia Temple had not yet retired to rest, although it was growing
+late. She was sitting alone, in her little chamber, and watching the
+glowing embers on the hearth, as they sparkled for a moment, and shed a
+ruddy light around, and then were extinguished, throwing the whole room
+into dark shadow. Sad emblem, these fleeting sparks, of the hopes that
+had once been bright before her, assuming fancied shapes of future joy
+and peace and love, and then dying to leave her sad heart the darker for
+their former presence. In the solitude of her own thoughts she was
+taking a calm review of her past life--her early childhood--when she
+played in innocent mirth beneath the shade of the oaks and poplars that
+still stood unchanged in the yardher first acquaintance with Hansford,
+which opened a new world to her young heart, replete with joys and
+treasures unknown before--all the thrilling events of the last few
+months--her last meeting with her lover, and his prayer that she at
+least would not censure him, when he was gone--her present despondency
+and gloom--all these thoughts came in slow and solemn procession across
+her mind, like dreary ghosts of the buried past.
+
+Suddenly she was startled from her reverie by the sound of a low, sweet,
+familiar voice, beneath her window, and, as she listened, the melancholy
+spirit of the singer sought and found relief in the following tender
+strains:
+
+    "Once more I seek thy quiet home,
+      My tale of love to tell,
+    Once more from danger's field I come,
+      To breathe a last farewell!
+          Though hopes are flown,
+          Though friends are gone;
+    Yet wheresoe'r I flee,
+          I still retain,
+          And hug the chain
+    Which binds my soul to thee.
+
+    "My heart, like some lone chamber left,
+      Must, mouldering, fall at last;
+    Of hope, of love, of thee bereft,
+      It lives but in the past.
+          With jealous care,
+          I cherish there
+    The web, however small,
+          That memory weaves,
+          And mercy leaves,
+      Upon that ruined wall.
+
+    "Though Tyranny, with bloody laws,
+      May dig my early grave,
+    Yet death, when met in Freedom's cause,
+      Is sweetest to the brave;
+          Wedded to her,
+          Without a fear,
+      I'll mount her funeral pile,
+          Welcome the death
+          Which seals my faith,
+      And meet it with a smile.
+
+    "While, like the tides, that softly swell
+      To kiss their mother moon,
+    Thy gentle soul will soar to dwell
+      In visions with mine own;
+          As skies distil
+          The dews that fill
+      The blushing rose at even,
+          So blest above,
+          I'll mourn thy love
+      And weep for thee in heaven."
+
+It needed not the well-known voice of Hansford to assure the weeping
+girl that he was near her. The burden of that sad song, which found an
+echo in her own heart, told her too plainly that it could be only he. It
+was no time for delicate scruples of propriety. She only knew that he
+was near her and in danger. Rising from her chair, and throwing around
+her a shawl to protect her from the chill night air, she hastened to the
+door. In another moment they were in each other's arms.
+
+"Oh, my own Virginia," said Hansford, "this is too, too kind. I had only
+thought to come and breathe a last farewell, and then steal from your
+presence for ever. I felt that it was a privilege to be near you, to
+watch, unseen, the flickering light reflected from your presence. This
+itself had been reward sufficient for the peril I encounter. How sweet
+then to hear once more the accents of your voice, and to feel once more
+the warm beating of your faithful heart."
+
+"And could you think," said Virginia, as she wept upon his shoulder,
+"that knowing you to be in danger, I could fail to see you. Oh,
+Hansford! you little know the truth of woman's love if you can for a
+moment doubt that your misfortune and your peril have made you doubly
+dear."
+
+"Yet how brief must be my stay. The avenger is behind me, and I must
+soon resume my lonely wandering."
+
+"And will you again leave me?" asked Virginia, in a reproachful tone.
+
+"Leave you, dearest, oh, how sweet would be my fate, after all my cares
+and sufferings, if I could but die here. But this must not be. Though I
+trust I know how to meet death as a brave man, yet it is my duty, as a
+good man, to leave no honourable means untried to save my life."
+
+"But your danger cannot be so great, dearest," said Virginia, tenderly.
+"Surely my father--"
+
+"Would feel it his duty," said Hansford, interrupting her, "to deliver
+me up to justice; and feeling it to be such, he would have the moral
+firmness to discharge it. Poor old gentleman! like many of his party,
+his prejudice perverts his true and generous heart. My poor country must
+suffer long before she can overcome the opposition of bigoted loyalty.
+Forgive me for speaking thus of your noble father, Virginia--but
+prejudices like these are the thorns which spring up in his heart and
+choke the true word of freedom, and render it unfruitful. Is it not so,
+dearest?"
+
+"You mistake his generous nature," said Virginia, earnestly. "You
+mistake his love for me. You mistake his sound judgment. You mistake his
+high sense of honour. Think you that he sees no difference between the
+man who, impelled by principle, asserts what he believes to be a right,
+and him, who for his own selfish ends and personal advancement, would
+sacrifice his country. Yes, my dear friend, you mistake my father. He
+will gladly interpose with the Governor and restore you to happiness, to
+freedom, and to--"
+
+She paused, unable to proceed for the sobs that choked her utterance,
+and then gave vent to a flood of passionate grief.
+
+"You would add, 'and to thee,'" said Hansford, finishing the sentence.
+"God knows, my girl, that such a hope would make me dare more peril than
+I have yet encountered. But, alas! if it were even as you say, what
+weight would his remonstrance have with that imperious old tyrant,
+Berkeley? It would be but the thistle-down against the cannon ball in
+the scales of his justice."
+
+"He dare not refuse my father's demands," said Virginia. "One who has
+been so devoted to his cause, who has sacrificed so much for his king,
+and who has afforded shelter and protection to the Governor himself in
+the hour of his peril and need, is surely entitled to this poor favour
+at his hands. He dare not refuse to grant it."
+
+"Alas! Virginia, you little know the character of Sir William Berkeley,
+when you say he dares not. But the very qualities which you claim, and
+justly claim, for your father, would prevent him from exerting that
+influence with the Governor which your hopes whisper would be so
+successful--'His noble nature' would prompt him at any sacrifice to
+yield personal feeling to a sense of public duty. 'His love for you'
+would prompt him to rescue you from the _rebel_ who dared aspire to your
+hand. 'His sound judgment' would dictate the maxim, that it were well
+for one man to die for the people; and his 'high sense of honour' would
+prevent him from interposing between a condemned _traitor_ and his
+deserved doom. Be assured, Virginia, that thus would your father reason;
+and with his views of loyalty and justice, I could not blame him for the
+conclusion to which he came."
+
+"Then in God's name," cried Virginia, in an agony of desperation, for
+she saw the force of Hansford's views, "how can you shun this
+threatening danger? Whither can you fly?"
+
+"My only hope," said Hansford, gloomily, "is to leave the Colony and
+seek refuge in Maryland, though I fear that this is hopeless. If I fail
+in this, then I must lurk in some hiding place until instructions from
+England may arrive, and check the vindictive Berkeley in his ruthless
+cruelty."
+
+"And is there a hope of that!" said Virginia, quickly.
+
+"There is a faint hope, and that slender thread is all that hangs
+between me and a traitor's doom. But I rely with some confidence upon
+the mild and humane policy pursued by Charles toward the enemies of his
+father. At any rate, it is all that is left me, and you know the
+proverb," he added, with a sad smile, "'A drowning man catches at
+straws.' Any chance, however slight, appears larger when seen through
+the gloom of approaching despair, just as any object seems greater when
+seen through a mist."
+
+"It is not, it shall not be slight," said the hopeful girl, "we will lay
+hold upon it with firm and trusting hearts, and it will cheer us in our
+weary way, and then--"
+
+But here the conversation was interrupted by the sound of approaching
+footsteps, and the light, graceful form of Mamalis stood before them.
+The quick ear of the Indian girl had caught the first low notes of
+Hansford's serenade, even while she slept, and listening attentively to
+the sound, she had heard Virginia leave the room and go down stairs.
+Alarmed at her prolonged absence, Mamalis could no longer hesitate on
+the propriety of ascertaining its cause, and hastily dressing herself,
+she ran down to the open door and joined the lovers as we have stated.
+
+"We are discovered," said Hansford, in a surprised but steady voice.
+"Farewell, Virginia." And he was about to rush from the place, when
+Virginia interposed.
+
+"Fear nothing from her," she said. "Her trained ear caught the sounds of
+our voices more quickly than could the duller senses of the European.
+You are in no danger; and her opportune presence suggests a plan for
+your escape."
+
+"What is that?" asked Hansford, anxiously.
+
+"First tell me," said Virginia, "how long it will probably be before the
+milder policy of Charles will arrest the Governor in his vengeance."
+
+"It is impossible to guess with accuracy--if, indeed, it ever should
+come. But the king has heard for some time of the suppression of the
+enterprise, and it can scarcely be more than two weeks before we hear
+from him. But to what does your question tend?"
+
+"Simply this," returned Virginia. "The wigwam of Mamalis is only about
+two miles from the hall, and in so secluded a spot that it is entirely
+unknown to any of the Governor's party. There we can supply your present
+wants, and give you timely warning of any approaching danger. The old
+wigwam is a good deal dilapidated, but then it will at least afford you
+shelter from the weather."
+
+"And from that ruder storm which threatens me," said Hansford, gloomily.
+"You are right. I know the place well, and trust it may be a safe
+retreat, at least for the present. But, alas! how sad is my fate,--to be
+skulking from justice like a detected thief or murderer, afraid to show
+my face to my fellow in the open day, and starting like a frightened
+deer at every approaching sound. Oh, it is too horrible!"
+
+"Think not of it thus," said Virginia, in an encouraging voice.
+"Remember it only as the dull twilight that divides the night from the
+morning. This painful suspense will soon be over; and then, safe and
+happy, we will smile at the dangers we have passed."
+
+"No, Virginia," said Hansford, in the same gloomy voice, "you are too
+hopeful. There is a whispering voice within that tells me that this plan
+will not succeed, and that we cannot avoid the dangers which threaten
+me. No," he cried, throwing off the gloom which hung over him, while his
+fine blue eye flashed with pride. "No! The decree has gone forth! Every
+truth must succeed with blood. If the blood of the martyrs be the seed
+of the Church, it may also enrich the soil where liberty must grow; and
+far rather would I that my blood should be shed in such a cause, than
+that it should creep sluggishly in my veins through a long and useless
+life, until it clotted and stagnated in an ignoble grave."
+
+"Oh, there spoke that fearful pride again," said Virginia, with a deep
+sigh; "the pride that pursues its mad career, unheeding prudence,
+unguided by judgment, until it is at last checked by its own
+destruction. And would you not sacrifice the glory that you speak of,
+for me?"
+
+"You have long since furnished me the answer to that plea, my girl," he
+replied, pressing her tenderly to his heart. "Do you remember, Lucasta,
+
+    'I had not loved thee, dear, so much,
+        Loved I not honour more.'
+
+Believe me, my Virginia, it is an honourable and not a glorious name I
+seek. Without the latter, life still would be happy and blessed when
+adorned by your smiles. Without the former, your smile and your love
+would add bitterness to the cup that dishonour would bid me quaff. And
+now, Virginia, farewell. The night air has chilled you, dearest--then
+go, and remember me in your dreams. One fond kiss, to keep virgined upon
+my lips till we meet again. Farewell, Mamalis--be faithful to your kind
+mistress." And then imprinting one long, last kiss upon the fair cheek
+of the trusting Virginia, he turned from the door, and was soon lost
+from their sight in the dense forest.
+
+Once more in her own little room, Virginia, with a grateful heart, fell
+upon her knees, and poured forth her thanks to Him, who had thus far
+prospered her endeavours to minister to the cares and sorrows of her
+lover. With a calmer heart she sought repose, and wept herself to sleep
+with almost happy tears. Hansford, in the mean time, pursued his quiet
+way through the forest, his pathway sufficiently illumined by the pale
+moonlight, which came trembling through the moaning trees. The thoughts
+of the young rebel were fitfully gloomy or pleasant, as despondency and
+hope alternated in his breast. In that lonely walk he had an opportunity
+to reflect calmly and fully upon his past life. The present was indeed
+clouded with danger, and the future with uncertainty and gloom. Yet, in
+this self-examination, he saw nothing to justify reproach or to awaken
+regret. He scanned his motives, and he felt that they were pure. He
+reviewed his acts, and he saw in them but the struggles of a brave, free
+man in the maintenance of the right. The enterprise in which he had
+engaged had indeed failed, but its want of success did not affect the
+holiness of the design. Even in its failure, he proudly hoped that the
+seeds of truth had been sown in the popular mind, which might hereafter
+germinate and be developed into freedom. As these thoughts passed
+through his mind, a dim dream of the future glories of his country
+flashed across him. The bright heaven of the future seemed to open
+before him, as before the eyes of the dying Stephen--but soon it closed
+again, and all was dark.
+
+The wigwam which he entered, after a walk of about half an hour, was
+desolate enough, but its very loneliness made it a better safeguard
+against the vigilance of his pursuers. He closed the aperture which
+served for the door, with the large mat used for the purpose; then
+carefully priming his pistols, which he kept constantly by him in case
+of surprise, and wrapping his rough horseman's coat around him, he flung
+himself upon a mat in the centre of the wigwam, and sank into a profound
+slumber.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+    "He should be hereabouts. The doubling hare,
+    When flying from the swift pursuit of hounds,
+    Baying loud triumph, leaves her wonted path,
+    And seeks security within her nest."
+                                    _The Captive._
+
+
+On the evening which followed the events narrated in the last chapter, a
+party of half a dozen horsemen might be seen riding leisurely along the
+road which led to Windsor Hall. From their dress and bearing they might
+at once be recognized as military men, and indeed it was a detachment of
+the force sent by Sir William Berkeley in search of such of the rebels
+as might be lurking in different sections of the country. At their head
+was Alfred Bernard, his tall and graceful form well set off by the
+handsome military dress of the period. Dignified by a captaincy of
+dragoons, the young intriguer at last thought himself on the high road
+to success, and his whole course was marked by a zealous determination
+to deserve by his actions the confidence reposed in him. For this his
+temper and his cold, selfish nature eminently fitted him. The vindictive
+Governor had no fear but that his vengeance would be complete, so long
+as Alfred Bernard acted as his agent.
+
+As the party approached the house, Colonel Temple, whose attention was
+arrested by such an unusual appearance in the then peaceful state of the
+country, came out to meet them, and with his usual bland courtesy
+invited them in, at the same time shaking Bernard warmly by the hand.
+The rough English soldiers, obeying the instructions of their host,
+conducted their horses to the stable, while the young captain followed
+his hospitable entertainer into the hall. Around the blazing fire, which
+crackled and roared in the broad hearth, the little family were gathered
+to hear the news.
+
+"Prythee, Captain Bernard, for I must not forget your new title," said
+the colonel, "what is the cause of this demonstration? No further
+trouble with the rebels?"
+
+"No, no," replied Bernard, "except to smoke the cowardly fellows out of
+their holes. In the words of your old bard, we have only scotched the
+snake, not killed it--and we are now seeking to bring the knaves to
+justice."
+
+"And do you find them difficult to catch?" said the Colonel. "Is the
+scotched snake an 'anguis in herba?'"
+
+"Aye, but they cannot escape us. These worshippers of liberty, who would
+fain be martyrs to her cause, shall not elude the vigilance of justice.
+I need not add, that you are not the object of our search, Colonel."
+
+"Scarcely, my lad," returned Temple, with a smile, "for my mythology has
+taught me, that these kindred deities are so nearly allied that the true
+votaries of liberty will ever be pilgrims to the shrine of justice."
+
+"And the pseudo votaries of freedom," continued Bernard, "who would
+divide the sister goddesses, should be offered up as a sacrifice to
+appease the neglected deity."
+
+"Well, maybe so," returned Temple; "but neither religion nor government
+should demand human sacrifices to a great extent. A few of the prominent
+leaders might well be cut off to strike terror into the hearts of the
+rest. Thus the demands of justice would be satisfied, consistently with
+clemency which mercy would dictate."
+
+"My dear sir, a hecatomb would not satisfy Berkeley. I am but his
+minister, and could not, if I would, arrest his arm. Even now I come by
+his express directions to ascertain whether any of the rebels may be
+secreted near your residence. While he does not for a moment suspect
+your loyalty, yet one of the villains, and he among the foremost in the
+rebellion, has been traced in this direction."
+
+"Sir," cried Temple, colouring with honest indignation; "dare you
+suspect that I could harbour a rebel beneath my roof! But remember, that
+I would as lief do that, abhorrent though it be to my principles, as to
+harbour a spy."
+
+"My dear sir," said Bernard, softly, "you mistake me most strangely, if
+you suppose that I could lodge such a suspicion for a moment in my
+heart; nor have I come as a spy upon your privacy, but to seek your
+counsel. Sir William Berkeley is so well convinced of your stern and
+unflinching faith, that he enjoins me to apply to you early for advice
+as to how I should proceed in my duty."
+
+"Well, my dear boy," said Temple, relapsing into good humour, for he was
+not proof against the tempting bait of flattery, "you must pardon the
+haste of an old man, who cannot bear any imputation upon his devotion to
+the cause of his royal master. While I cannot aid you in your search, my
+house is freely open to yourself and your party for such time as you may
+think proper to use it."
+
+"You have my thanks, my dear sir," said Bernard, "and indeed you are
+entitled to the gratitude of the whole government. Sir William Berkeley
+bade me say that he could never forget your kindness to him and his
+little band of fugitives; and Lady Frances often says that she scarcely
+regrets the cares and anxiety attending her flight, since they afforded
+her an opportunity of enjoying the society of Mrs. Temple in her own
+home, where she so especially shines."
+
+"Indeed, we thank them both most cordially," said Mrs. Temple. "It was a
+real pleasure to us to have them, I am sure; and though we hardly had
+time to make them as comfortable as they might have been, yet a poor
+feast, seasoned with a warm welcome, is fit for a king."
+
+"I trust," said Bernard, "that Miss Virginia unites with you in the
+interest which you profess in the cause of loyalty. May I hope, that
+should it ever be our fortune again to be thrown like stranded wrecks
+upon your hospitality, her welcome will not be wanting to our
+happiness."
+
+"It will always give me pleasure," said Virginia, "to welcome the guests
+of my parents, and to add, as far as I can, to their comfort, whoever
+they may be--more particularly when those guests are among my own
+special friends."
+
+"Of which number I am proud to consider myself, though unworthy of such
+an honour," said Bernard. "But excuse me for a few moments, ladies, I
+have somewhat to say to my sergeant before dinner. I will return
+anon--as soon as possible; but you know, Colonel, duty should ever be
+first served, and afterwards pleasure may be indulged. Duty is the prim
+old wife, who must be duly attended to, and then Pleasure, the fair
+young damsel, may claim her share of our devotion. Aye, Colonel?"
+
+"Nay, if you enter the marriage state with such ideas of its duties as
+that," returned the Colonel, smiling, "I rather think you will have a
+troublesome career before you. But your maxim is true, though clothed in
+an allegory a little too licentious. So, away with you, my boy, and
+return as soon as you can, for I have much to ask you."
+
+Released from the restraints imposed by the presence of the Colonel and
+the ladies, Bernard rubbed his hands and chuckled inwardly as he went in
+search of his sergeant.
+
+"I am pretty sure we are on the right scent, Holliday," he said,
+addressing a tall, strapping old soldier of about six feet in height.
+"This prejudiced old steed seemed disposed to kick before he was
+spurred--and, indeed, if he knew nothing himself, there is a pretty
+little hind here, who I'll warrant is not so ignorant of the
+hiding-place of her young hart."
+
+"But I tell you what, Cap'n, it's devilish hard to worm a secret out of
+these women kind. They'll tell any body else's secret, fast enough, but
+d--n me if it don't seem as how they only do that to give more room to
+keep their own."
+
+"Well, we must try at any rate. It is not for you to oppose with your
+impertinent objections what I may choose order. I hope you are soldier
+enough to have learned that it is only your duty to obey."
+
+"Oh! yes, Cap'n. I've learned that lesson long ago--and what's more, I
+learned it on horseback, but, faith, it was one of those wooden steeds
+that made me do all the travelling. Why, Lord bless me, to obey! It's
+one of my ten commandments. I've got it written in stripes that's
+legible on my shoulders now. 'Obey your officers in all things that your
+days may be long and your back unskinned.'"
+
+"Well, stop your intolerable nonsense," said Bernard, "and hear what I
+would say. We stay here to-night. There is an Indian girl who lives
+here, a kind of upper servant. You must manage to see her and talk with
+her. But mind, nothing of our object, or your tongue shall be blistered
+for it. Tell her that I wish to see her, beneath the old oak tree to
+night, at ten o'clock. If she refuses, tell her to 'remember
+Berkenhead.' These words will act as a charm upon her. Remember--Hush,
+here comes the Colonel."
+
+It will be remembered by the reader that the magic of these two words,
+which were to have such an influence upon the young Mamalis, was due to
+the shrewd suspicion of Alfred Bernard, insinuated at the time, that she
+was the assassin of the ill-fated Berkenhead. By holding this simple
+rod, _in terrorem_, over the poor girl, Bernard now saw that he might
+wield immense power over her, and if the secret of Hansford's
+hiding-place had been confided to her, he might easily extort it either
+by arousing her vengeance once more, or in default of that by a menace
+of exposure and punishment for the murder. But first he determined to
+see Virginia, and make his peace with her; and under the plausible
+guise of sympathy in her distress and pity for Hansford, to excite in
+her an interest in his behalf, even while he was plotting the ruin of
+her lover.
+
+With his usual pliancy of manner, and control over his feelings, he
+engaged in conversation with Colonel Temple, humouring the well-known
+prejudices of the old gentleman, and by a little dexterous flattery
+winning over the unsuspicious old lady to his favor. Even Virginia,
+though her heart misgave her from the first that the arrival of Bernard
+boded no good to her lover, was deceived by his plausible manners and
+attracted by his brilliant conversation. So the tempter, with the
+graceful crest, and beautiful colours of the subtle serpent beguiled Eve
+far more effectually, than if in his own shape he had attempted to
+convince her by the most specious sophisms.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+    "Was ever woman in this humour wooed?"
+                                    _Richard III._
+
+
+Dinner being over, the gentlemen remained according to the good old
+custom, to converse over their wine, while Virginia retired to the quiet
+little parlour, and with some favourite old author tried to beguile her
+thoughts from the bitter fears which she felt for the safety of
+Hansford. But it was all in vain. Her eyes often wandered from her book,
+and fixed upon the blazing, hickory fire, she was lost in a painful
+reverie. As she weighed in her mind the many chances in favour of, and
+against his escape, she turned in her trouble to Him, who alone could
+rescue her, and with the tears streaming down her pale cheeks, she
+murmured in bitter accents, "Oh, Lord! in Thee have I trusted, let me
+never be confounded." Even while she spoke, she was surprised to hear
+immediately behind her, the well-known voice of Alfred Bernard, for so
+entirely lost had she been in meditation that she had not heard his step
+as he entered the room.
+
+"Miss Temple, and in tears!" he said, with well assumed surprise. "What
+can have moved you thus, Virginia?"
+
+"Alas! Mr. Bernard, you who have known my history and my troubles for
+the last few bitter months, cannot be ignorant that I have much cause
+for sadness. But," she added, with a faint attempt to smile, "had I
+known of your presence, I would not have sought to entertain you with my
+sorrows."
+
+"The troubles that you speak of are passed, Miss Temple," said Bernard,
+affecting to misunderstand her, "and as the Colony begins to smile again
+in the beams of returning peace, you, fair Virginia, should also smile
+in sympathy with your namesake."
+
+"Mr. Bernard, you must jest. You at least should have known, ere this,
+that my individual sorrows are not so dependent upon the political
+condition of the Colony. You at least should have known, sir, that the
+very peace you boast of may be the knell of hopes more dear to a woman's
+heart than even the glory and welfare of her country."
+
+"Miss Temple," returned Bernard, with a grave voice, "since you are
+determined to treat seriously what I have said, I will change my tone.
+Though you choose to doubt my sincerity, I must express the deep
+sympathy which I feel in your sorrows, even though I know that these
+sorrows are induced by your apprehensions for the fate of a rival."
+
+"And that sympathy, sir, is illustrated by your present actions," said
+Virginia, bitterly. "You would be at the same time the Judean robber
+and the good Samaritan, and while inflicting a deadly wound upon your
+victim, and stripping him of cherished hopes, you would administer the
+oil and wine of your mocking sympathy."
+
+"I might choose to misunderstand your unkind allusions, Miss Temple,"
+replied Bernard, "but there is no need of concealment between us. You
+have rightly judged the object of my mission, but in this I act as the
+officer of government, not as the ungenerous rival of Major Hansford."
+
+"So does the public executioner," replied Virginia, "but I am not aware
+that in its civil and military departments as well as in the navy, our
+government impresses men into her service against their will."
+
+"You seem determined to misunderstand me, Virginia," said Alfred, with
+some warmth; "but you shall learn that I am not capable of the want of
+generosity which you attribute to me. Know then, that it was from a
+desire to serve you personally through your friend, that I urged the
+governor to let me come in pursuit of Major Hansford. Suppose, instead,
+he should fall in the hands of Beverley. Cruel and relentless as that
+officer has already shown himself to be, his prisoner would suffer every
+indignity and persecution, even before he was delivered to the tender
+mercies of Sir William Berkeley--while in me, as his captor, you may
+rest assured that for your sake, he would meet with kindness and
+indulgence, and even my warm mediation with the governor in his behalf."
+
+"Oh, then," cried Virginia, trusting words so softly and plausibly
+spoken, "if you are indeed impelled by a motive so generous and
+disinterested, it is still in your power to save him. Your influence
+with the Governor is known, and one word from your lips might control
+the fate of a brave man, and restore happiness and peace to a
+broken-hearted girl. Oh! would not this amply compensate even for the
+neglect of duty? Would it not be far nobler to secure the happiness of
+two grateful hearts, than to shed the blood of a brave and generous man,
+and to wade through that red stream to success and fame? Believe me, Mr.
+Bernard, when you come to die, the recollection of such an act will be
+sweeter to your soul than all the honour and glory which an admiring
+posterity could heap above your cold, insensate ashes. If I am any thing
+to you; if my happiness would be an object of interest to your heart;
+and if my love, my life-long love, would be worthy of your acceptance,
+they are yours. Forgive the boldness, the freedom with which I have
+spoken. It may be unbecoming in a young girl, but let it be another
+proof of the depth, the sincerity of my feelings, when I can forget a
+maiden's delicacy in the earnestness of my plea."
+
+It was impossible not to be moved with the earnest and touching manner
+of the weeping girl, as with clasped hands and streaming eyes, she
+almost knelt to Bernard in the fervent earnestness of her feelings.
+Machiavellian as he was, and accustomed to disguise his heart, the young
+man was for a moment almost dissuaded from his design. Taking Virginia
+gently by the hand, he begged her to be calm. But the feeling of
+generosity which for a moment gleamed on his heart, like a brief sunbeam
+on a stormy day, gave way to the wonted selfishness with which that
+heart was clouded.
+
+"And can you still cling with such tenacity to a man who has proven
+himself so unworthy of you," he said; "to one who has long since
+sacrificed you to his own fanatical purposes. Even should he escape the
+fate which awaits him, he can never be yours. Your own independence of
+feeling, your father's prejudices, every thing conspires to prevent a
+union so unnatural. Hansford may live, but he can never live to be your
+husband."
+
+"Who empowered you to prohibit thus boldly the bans between us, and to
+dissolve our plighted troth?" said Virginia, with indignation.
+
+"You again mistake me," replied Bernard. "God forbid that I should thus
+intrude upon what surely concerns me not. I only expressed, my dear
+friend, what you know full well, that whatever be the fate of Major
+Hansford, you can never marry him. Why, then, this strange interest in
+his fate?"
+
+"And can you think thus of woman's love? Can you suppose that her heart
+is so selfish that, because her own cherished hopes are blasted, she can
+so soon forget and coldly desert one who has first awakened those sweet
+hopes, and who is now in peril? Believe me, Mr. Bernard, dear as I hold
+that object to my soul, sad and weary as life would be without one who
+had made it so happy, I would freely, aye, almost cheerfully yield his
+love, and be banished for ever from his presence, if I could but save
+his life."
+
+"You are a noble girl," said Alfred, with admiration; "and teach me a
+lesson that too few have learned, that love is never selfish. But, yet,
+I cannot relinquish the sweet reward which you have promised for my
+efforts in behalf of Hansford. Then tell me once more, dear girl, if I
+arrest the hand of justice which now threatens his life; if he be once
+more restored to liberty and security, would you reward his deliverer
+with your love?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" cried the trusting girl, mistaking his meaning; "and more, I
+would pledge his lasting gratitude and affection to his generous
+preserver."
+
+"Nay," said Bernard, rather coldly, "that would not add much inducement
+to me. But you, Virginia," he added, passionately, "would you be
+mine--would the bright dream of my life be indeed realized, and might I
+enshrine you in my faithful heart, as a sacred idol, to whom in hourly
+adoration I might bow?"
+
+"How mean you, sir," exclaimed Virginia, with surprise. "I fear you have
+misunderstood my words. My love, my gratitude, my friendship, I
+promised, but not my heart."
+
+"Then, indeed, am I strangely at fault," said Bernard, with a sneering
+laugh. "The love you would bestow, would be such as you would feel
+towards the humblest boor, who had done you a service; and your
+gratitude but the natural return which any human being would make to the
+dog who saves his life. Nay, mistress mine, not so platonic, if you
+please. Think you that, for so cold a feeling as friendship and
+gratitude, I would rescue this skulking hound from the lash of his
+master, which he so richly deserves, or from the juster doom of the
+craven cur, the rope and gallows. No, Virginia Temple, there is no
+longer any need of mincing matters between us. It is a simple question
+of bargain and sale. You have said that you would renounce the love of
+Hansford to save his life. Very well, one step more and all is
+accomplished. The boon I ask, as the reward of my services, is your
+heart, or at least your hand. Yield but this, and I will arrest the
+malice of that doting old knight, who, with his fantastic tricks, has
+made the angels laugh instead of weep. Deny me, and by my troth, Thomas
+Hansford meets a traitor's doom."
+
+So complete was the revulsion of feeling from the almost certainty of
+success, to the despair and indignation induced by so base a
+proposition, that it was some moments before Virginia Temple could
+speak. Bernard mistaking the cause of her silence, deemed that she was
+hesitating as to her course, and pursuing his supposed advantage, he
+added, tenderly,--"Cheer, up Virginia; cheer up, my bride. I read in
+those silent tears your answer. I know the struggle is hard, and I love
+you the more that it is so. It is an earnest of your future constancy.
+In a short time the trial will be over, and we will learn to forget our
+sorrows in our love. He who is so unworthy of you will have sought in
+some distant land solace for your loss, which will be easily attained by
+his pliant nature. A traitor to his country, will not long mourn the
+loss of his bride."
+
+"'Tis thou who art the traitor, dissembling hypocrite," cried Virginia,
+vehemently. "Think you that my silence arose from a moment's
+consideration of your base proposition? I was stunned at beholding such
+a monster in the human form. But I defy you yet. The governor shall
+learn how the fawning favourite of his palace, tears the hand that feeds
+him--and those who can protect me from your power, shall chastise your
+insolence. Instead of the love and gratitude I promised, there, take my
+lasting hate and scorn."
+
+And the young girl proudly rising erect as she spoke, her eyes flashing,
+but tearless, her bosom heaving with indignation, her nostrils dilated,
+and her hand extended in bitter contempt towards the astonished Bernard,
+shouted, "Father, father!" until the hall rung with the sound.
+
+Happily for Alfred Bernard, Colonel Temple and his wife had left the
+house for a few moments, on a visit to old Giles' cabin, the old man
+having been laid up with a violent attack of the rheumatics. The wily
+intriguer was for once caught in his own springe. He had overacted his
+part, and had grossly mistaken the character of the brave young girl,
+whom he had so basely insulted. He felt that if he lost a moment, the
+house would be alarmed, and his miserable hypocrisy exposed. Rushing to
+Virginia, he whispered, in an agitated voice, which he failed to control
+with his usual self-command,
+
+"For God's sake, be silent. I acknowledge I have done wrong; but I will
+explain. Remember Hansford's life is in your hands. Come, now, dear
+Virginia, sit you down, I will save him."
+
+The proud expression of scorn died away from the curled lips of the
+girl, and interest in her lover's fate again took entire possession of
+her heart. She paused and listened. The wily Jesuit had again conquered,
+and He who rules the universe with such mysterious justice, had
+permitted evil once more to triumph over innocence.
+
+"Yes," repeated Bernard, regaining his composure with his success; "I
+will save him. I mistook your character, Miss Temple. I had thought you
+the simple-hearted girl, who for the sake of her lover's life would sell
+her heart to his preserver. I now recognize in you the high-spirited
+woman, who, conscious of right, would meet her own despair in its
+defence. Alas! in thus losing you for ever, I have just found you
+possessed of qualities which make you doubly worthy to be won. But I
+resign you to him whom you have chosen, and in my admiration for the
+woman, I have almost lost my hatred for the man. For your sake, Miss
+Temple, Major Hansford shall not want my warm interposition with the
+Governor in his behalf. Let my reward be your esteem or your contempt,
+it is still my duty thus to atone for the wound which I have
+unfortunately inflicted on your feelings. You will excuse and respect my
+wish to end this painful interview."
+
+And so he left the room, and Virginia once more alone, gave vent to her
+emotions so long suppressed, in a flood of bitter tears.
+
+"Well, Holliday," said Bernard, as he met that worthy in the hall, "I
+hope you have been more fortunate with the red heifer than I with the
+white hind--what says Mamalis?"
+
+"The fact is, Cap'n, that same heifer is about as troublesome a three
+year old as I ever had the breaking on. She seemed bent on hooking me."
+
+"Did you not make use of the talisman I told you of?" asked Bernard.
+
+"Well, I don't know what you call a tell-us-man," said Holliday, "but I
+told her that you said she must remember Backinhead, and I'll warrant
+it was tell-us-woman soon enough. Bless me, if she didn't most turn
+white, for all her red skin, and she got the trimbles so that I began to
+think she was going to have the high-strikes--and so says she at last;
+says she, in kind of choking voice like, 'Well, tell him I will meet him
+under the oak tree, as he wishes.'"
+
+"Very well," said Bernard, "we will succeed yet, and then your hundred
+pounds are made--my share is yours already if you be but faithful to
+me--I am convinced he has been here," he continued, musing, and half
+unconscious of Holliday's presence. "The hopeful interest that Virginia
+feels, her knowledge of the fact that he still lives and is at large,
+and the apprehensions which mingle with her hopes, all convince me that
+I'm on the right track. Well, I'll spoil a pretty love affair yet,
+before it approaches its consummation. Fine girl, too, and a pity to
+victimize her. Bless me, how majestic she looked; with what a queen-like
+scorn she treated me, the cold, insensate intriguer, as they call me. I
+begin to love her almost as much as I love her land--but, beware, Alfred
+Bernard, love might betray you. My game is a bold and desperate one, but
+the stake for which I play repays the risk. By God, I'll have her yet;
+she shall learn to bow her proud head, and to love me too--and then the
+fair fields of Windsor Hall will not be less fertile for the price which
+I pay for them in a rival's blood--and such a rival. He scorned and
+defied me when the overtures of peace were extended to him; let him look
+to it, that in rejecting the olive, he has not planted the cypress in
+its stead. Thus revenge is united with policy in the attainment of my
+object, and--What are you staring at, you gaping idiot?" he cried,
+seeing the big, pewter coloured eyes of Holliday fixed upon him in mute
+astonishment.
+
+"Why, Cap'n, damme if I don't believe you are talking in your sleep with
+your eyes open."
+
+"And what did you hear me say, knave?"
+
+"Oh, nothing that will ever go the farther for my hearing it. It's all
+one to me whether you're working for your country or yourself in this
+matter, so long as my pretty pounds are none the less heavy and safe."
+
+"I'm working for both, you fool," returned Bernard. "Did you ever know a
+general or a patriot who did not seek to serve himself as well as his
+country?"
+
+"Well, no," retorted the soldier, "for what the world calls honour, and
+what the rough soldier calls money, is at last only different kinds of
+coin of the same metal."
+
+"Well, hush your impudence," said Bernard, "and mind, not a word of what
+you have heard, or you shall feel my power as well as others. In the
+meantime, here is a golden key to lock your lips," and he handed the
+fellow a sovereign, which he greedily accepted.
+
+"Thank you, Cap'n," said Holliday, touching his hat and pocketing the
+money; "you need not be afraid of me, for I've seen tricks in my time
+worth two of that. And for the matter of taking this yellow boy, which
+might look to some like hush-money, the only difference between the
+patriot and me is, that he gets paid for opening his mouth, and I for
+keeping mine shut."
+
+"You are a saucy knave," said Bernard, reassured by the fellow's manner;
+"and I'll warrant you never served under old Noll's Puritan standard.
+But away with you, and remember to be in place at ten o'clock to-night,
+and come to me at this signal," and he gave a shrill whistle, which
+Holliday promised to understand and obey.
+
+And so they separated, Bernard to while away the tedious hours, by
+conversing with the old Colonel, and by endeavouring to reinstate
+himself in the good opinion of Virginia, while Holliday repaired to the
+kitchen, where, in company with his comrades and the white servants of
+the hall, he emptied about a half gallon of brown October ale.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+        "He sat her on a milk-white steed,
+          And himself upon a grey;
+        He never turned his face again,
+          But he bore her quite away."
+                  _The Knight of the Burning Pestle._
+
+    "Oh, woe is me for Gerrard! I have brought
+    Confusion on the noblest gentleman
+    That ever truly loved."
+                                _The Triumph of Love._
+
+
+The night, though only starry, was scarce less lovely for the absence of
+the moon. So bright indeed was the milky way, the white girdle, with
+which the night adorns her azure robe, that you might almost imagine the
+moon had not disappeared, but only melted and diffused itself in the
+milder radiance of that fair circlet.
+
+As was always the custom in the country, the family had retired at an
+early hour, and Bernard quietly left the house to fulfil his engagement
+with Mamalis. They stood, he and the Indian girl, beneath the shade of
+the old oak, so often mentioned in the preceding pages. With his
+handsome Spanish cloak of dark velvet plush, thrown gracefully over his
+shoulders, his hat looped up and fastened in front with a gold button,
+after the manner of the times, Alfred Bernard stood with folded arms,
+irresolute as to how he should commence a conversation so important, and
+requiring such delicate address. Mamalis stood before him, with that air
+of nameless but matchless grace so peculiar to those, who unconstrained
+by the arts and affectations of society, assume the attitude of ease and
+beauty which nature can alone suggest. She watched him with a look of
+eagerness, anxious on her part for the silence to be broken, that she
+might learn the meaning and the object of this strange interview.
+
+Alfred Bernard was too skillful an intriguer to broach abruptly the
+subject which, most absorbed his thoughts, and which had made him seek
+this interview, and when at last he spoke, Mamalis was at a loss to
+guess what there was in the commonplaces which he used, that could be of
+interest to him. But the wily hypocrite led her on step by step, until
+gradually and almost unconsciously to herself he had fully developed his
+wishes.
+
+"You live here altogether, now, do you not?" he asked, kindly.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are they kind to you?"
+
+"Oh yes, they are kind to all."
+
+"And you are happy?"
+
+"Yes, as happy as those can be who are left alone on earth."
+
+"What! are there none of your family now living?"
+
+"No, no!" she replied, bitterly; "the blood of Powhatan now runs in this
+narrow channel," and she held out her graceful arms, as she spoke, with
+an expressive gesture.
+
+"Alas! I pity you," said Bernard, sighing. "We are alike in this--for my
+blood is reduced to as narrow a channel as your own. But your family was
+very numerous?"
+
+"Yes, numerous as those stars--and bright and beautiful as they."
+
+"Judging from the only Pleiad that remains," thought Bernard, "you may
+well say so--and can you," he added, aloud, "forgive those who have thus
+injured you?"
+
+"Forgive, oh yes, or how shall I be forgiven! Look at those stars! They
+shine the glory of the night. They vanish before the sun of the morning.
+So faded my people before the arms of the white man--and yet I can
+freely forgive them all!"
+
+"What, even those who have quenched those stars!" said Bernard, with a
+sinister meaning in his tone.
+
+"You mistake," replied Mamalis, touchingly. "They are not quenched. The
+stars we see to-night, though unseen on the morrow, are still in
+heaven."
+
+"Nay, Mamalis," said Bernard, "the creed of your fathers taught not
+thus. I thought the Indian maxim was that blood alone could wipe out the
+stain of blood."
+
+"I love the Christian lesson better," said Mamalis, softly. "And you,
+Mr. Bernard, should not try to shake my new born faith. 'Love your
+enemies--bless them that curse you--pray for them that despitefully use
+you and persecute you--that you may be the children of your Father which
+is in heaven.' The orphan girl on earth would love to be the child of
+her father in heaven."
+
+The sweet simplicity with which the poor girl thus referred to the
+precepts and promises of her new religion, derived more touching beauty
+from the broken English with which she expressed them. An attempt to
+describe her manner and accent would be futile, and would detract from
+the simple dignity and sweetness with which she uttered the words. We
+leave the reader from his own imagination to fill up the picture which
+we can only draw in outline. Bernard saw and felt the power of religion
+in the heart of this poor savage, and he hesitated what course he should
+pursue. He knew that her strongest feeling in life had been her
+affection for her brother. That had been the chord which earliest
+vibrated in her heart, and which as her heart expanded only increased in
+tension that added greater sweetness to its tone. It was on this broken
+string, so rudely snapped asunder, that he resolved to play--hoping thus
+to strike some harsh and discordant notes in her gentle heart.
+
+"You had a brother, Mamalis," he said, abruptly; "the voice of your
+brother's blood calls to you from the ground."
+
+"My brother!" shrieked the girl, startled by the suddenness of the
+allusion.
+
+"Aye, your murdered brother," said Bernard, marking with pleasure the
+effect he had produced, "and it is in your power to avenge his death.
+Dare you do it?"
+
+"Oh, my brother, my poor lost brother," she sobbed, the stoical
+indifference of the savage, pressed out by the crushed heart of the
+sister, "if by this hand thy death could be avenged."
+
+"By your hand he can be avenged," said Bernard, seeing her pause. "It
+has not yet been done. That stupid knave, in a moment of vanity, claimed
+for himself the praise of having murdered a chieftain, but the brave
+Manteo fell by more noble hands than his."
+
+"In God's name, who do you mean?" asked Mamalis.
+
+"I can only tell you that it is now in your power to surrender his
+murderer to justice, and to his deserved fate."
+
+Mamalis was silent. She guessed that it was Hansford to whom Bernard had
+thus vaguely alluded. The struggle seemed to be a desperate one. There
+in the clear starlight, with none to help, save Him, in whom she had
+learned to trust, she wrestled with the tempter. But that dark scene of
+her life, which still threw its shadow on her redeemed heart, again rose
+up before her memory. The lesson was a blessed one. How often thus does
+the recollection of a former sin guard the soul from error in the
+future. Surely, in this, too, God has made the wrath of man to praise
+him. With the aid thus given from on high, the trusting soul of Mamalis
+triumphed over temptation.
+
+"I know not why you tempt me thus, Mr. Bernard," she said, more calmly,
+"nor why you have brought me here to-night. But this I know, that I
+have learned that vengeance belongs to God. It were a crime for mortal
+man, frail at best, to usurp the right of God. My brother is already
+fearfully avenged."
+
+Twice beaten in his attempt to besiege the strong heart of the poor
+Indian, by stratagem, the wily Bernard determined to pursue a more
+determined course, and to take the resisting citadel by a coup d'etat.
+He argued, and argued rightly, that a sudden charge would surprise her
+into betraying a knowledge of Hansford's movements. No sooner,
+therefore, had the last words fallen from her lips, than he seized her
+roughly by the arm, and exclaimed,
+
+"So you, then, with all your religious cant, are the murderess of Thomas
+Hansford!"
+
+"The murderess! Of Hansford! Is he then dead," cried the girl,
+bewildered by the sudden charge, "How did they find him?"
+
+"Find him!" cried Bernard, triumphantly, "It is easy finding what we
+hide ourselves. We have proven that you alone are aware of his hiding
+place, and you alone, therefore, are responsible for his safety. It was
+for this confession that I brought you here to-night."
+
+"So help me Heaven," said the trembling girl, terrified by the web thus
+woven around her, "If he be dead, I am innocent of his death."
+
+"The assassin of Berkenhead may well be the murderess of Hansford," said
+Bernard. "It is easier to deny than to prove. Come, my mistress, tell me
+when you saw him."
+
+"Oh, but this morning, safe and well," said Mamalis. "Indeed, my hand is
+guiltless of his blood."
+
+"Prove it, then, if you can," returned Bernard. "You must know our
+English law presumes him guilty, who is last with the murdered person,
+unless he can prove his innocence. Show me Hansford alive, and you are
+safe. If I do not see him by sunrise, you go with me to answer for his
+death, and to learn that your accursed race is not the only people who
+demand blood for blood."
+
+Overawed by his threats, and his stern manner, so different from the
+mild and respectful tone in which he had hitherto addressed her, Mamalis
+sank upon the ground in an agony of alarm. Bernard disregarded her meek
+and silent appeal for mercy, and sternly menaced her when she attempted
+to scream for assistance.
+
+"Hush your savage shrieking, you bitch, or you'll wake the house; and
+then, by God, I'll choke you before your time. I tell you, if the man is
+alive, you need fear no danger; and if he be dead, you have only saved
+the sheriff a piece of dirty work, or may be have given him another
+victim."
+
+"For God's sake, do me no harm," cried Mamalis, imploringly. "I am
+innocent--indeed I am. Think you that I would hurt a hair of the head of
+that man whom Virginia Temple loves?"
+
+This last remark was by no means calculated to make her peace with
+Bernard; but his only reply was by the shrill whistle which had been
+agreed upon as a signal between Holliday and himself. True to his
+promise, and obedient to the command of his superior, the soldier made
+his appearance on the scene of action with a promptitude that could only
+be explained by the fact that he had concealed himself behind a corner
+of the house, and had heard every word of the conversation. Too much
+excited to be suspicious, Bernard did not remark on his punctuality, but
+said, in a low voice:
+
+"Go wake Thompson, saddle the horses, and let's be off. We have work
+before us. Go!" And Holliday, with habitual obedience, retired to
+execute the order.
+
+"And now," said Bernard, in an encouraging tone, to Mamalis, "you must
+go with me. But you have nothing to fear, if Hansford be alive. If,
+however, my suspicions be true, and he has been murdered by your hand, I
+will still be your friend, if you be but faithful."
+
+The horses were quickly brought, and Bernard, half leading, half
+carrying the poor, weeping, trembling maiden, mounted his own powerful
+charger, and placed her behind him. The order of march was soon given,
+and the heavy sound of the horses' feet was heard upon the hard, crisp,
+frozen ground. Mamalis, seeing her fate inevitable, whatever it might
+be, awaited it patiently and without a murmur. Never suspecting the true
+motive of Bernard, and fully believing that he was _bona fide_ engaged
+in searching for the perpetrators of some foul deed, she readily
+consented, for her own defence, to conduct the party to the hiding place
+of the hapless Hansford. Surprised and shocked beyond measure at the
+intelligence of his fate, she almost forgot her own situation in her
+concern for him, and was happy in aiding to bring to justice those who,
+as she feared, had murdered him. She was surprised, indeed, that she had
+heard nothing of the circumstance from Virginia, as she would surely
+have done, had Bernard mentioned it to the family. But in her ignorance
+of the rules of civilized life, she attributed this to the forms of
+procedure, to the necessity for secrecy--to anything rather than the
+true cause. Nor could she help hoping that there might be still some
+mistake, and that Hansford would be found alive and well, thus
+establishing her own innocence, and ending the pursuit.
+
+Arrived nearly at the wigwam, she mentioned the fact to Bernard, who in
+a low voice commanded a halt, and dismounting with his men, he directed
+Mamalis to guide them the remaining distance on foot. Leaving Thompson
+in charge of the horses, until he might be called to their assistance,
+Bernard and Holliday silently followed the unsuspecting Indian girl
+along the narrow path. A short distance ahead, they could discern the
+faint smoke, as it curled through the opening at the top of the wigwam
+and floated towards the sky. This indication rendered it probable that
+the object of their search was still watching, and thus warned them to
+greater caution in their approach. Bernard's heart beat thick and loud,
+and his cheek blanched with excitement, as he thus drew near the lurking
+place of his enemy. He shook Holliday by the arm with impatient anger,
+as the heavy-footed soldier jarred the silence by the crackling of
+fallen leaves and branches. And now they are almost there, and Mamalis,
+whose excitement was also intense, still in advance, saw through a
+crevice in the door the kneeling form of the noble insurgent, as he
+bowed himself by that lonely fire, and committed his weary soul to God.
+
+"He is here! he lives!" she shouted. "I knew that he was safe!" and the
+startled forest rang with the echoes of her voice.
+
+"The murder is out," cried Bernard, as followed by Holliday, he rushed
+forward to the door, which had been thrown open by their guide; but ere
+he gained his entrance, the sharp report of a pistol was heard, and the
+beautiful, the trusting Mamalis fell prostrate on the floor, a bleeding
+martyr to her constancy and faith. Hansford, roused by the sudden sound
+of her voice, had seized the pistol which, sleeping and waking, was by
+his side, and hearing the voice of Bernard, he had fired. Had the ball
+taken effect upon either of the men, he might yet have been saved, for
+in an encounter with a single man he would have proved a formidable
+adversary. But inscrutable are His ways, whose thoughts are not as our
+thoughts, and all that the puzzled soul can do, is humbly to rely on the
+hope that
+
+    "God is his own interpreter,
+    And he will make it plain."
+
+And she, the last of her dispersed and ruined lineage, is gone. In the
+lone forest, where the wintry blast swept unobstructed, the giant trees
+moaned sadly and fitfully over their bleeding child; and the bright
+stars, that saw the heavy deed, wept from their place in heaven, and
+bathed her lovely form in night's pure dews. She did not long remain
+unburied in that forest, for when Virginia heard the story of her faith
+and loyalty from the rude lips of Holliday, the pure form of the Indian
+girl, still fresh and free from the polluting touch of the destroyer,
+was borne to her own home, and followed with due rites and fervent grief
+to the quiet tomb. In after days, when her sad heart loved to dwell upon
+these early scenes, Virginia placed above the sacred ashes of her friend
+a simple marble tablet, long since itself a ruin; and there, engraven
+with the record of her faith, her loyalty and her love, was the sweet
+assurance, that in her almost latest words, the trusting Indian girl had
+indeed become one of "the children of her Father which is in Heaven."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+    "Let some of the guard be ready there.
+                                    For me?
+    Must I go like a traitor thither?"
+                                      _Henry VIII._
+
+
+The reader need not be told that Hansford, surprised and unarmed, for
+his remaining pistol was not at hand, and his sword had been laid aside
+for the night, was no match for the two powerful men who now rushed upon
+him. To pinion his arms closely behind him, was the work of a moment,
+and further resistance was impossible. Seeing that all hope of
+successful defence was gone, Hansford maintained in his bearing the
+resolute fortitude and firmness which can support a brave man in
+misfortune, when active courage is no longer of avail.
+
+"I suppose, I need not ask Mr. Bernard," he said, "by what authority he
+acts--and yet I would be glad to learn for what offence I am arrested."
+
+"The memory of your former acts should teach you," returned Bernard,
+coarsely, "that your offence is reckoned among the best commentators of
+the law as high treason."
+
+"A grievous crime, truly," replied Hansford, "but one of which I am
+happily innocent, unless, indeed, a skirmish with the hostile Indians
+should be reckoned as such, or Sir William Berkeley should be
+presumptuous enough to claim to be a king; in which latter case, he
+himself would be the traitor."
+
+"He is at least the deputy of the king," said Bernard, haughtily, "and
+in his person the majesty of the king has been assailed."
+
+"Unfortunately, for your reasoning," replied Hansford, "the term for
+which Berkeley was appointed governor has expired some years since."
+
+"That miserable subterfuge will scarcely avail, since you tacitly
+acknowledged his authority by acting under his commission. But I have no
+time to be discussing with you on the nature of your offence, of which,
+at least, I am not the judge. I will only add, that conscious innocence
+is not found skulking in dark forests, and obscure hiding places. Call
+Thompson, with the horses, Holliday. It is time we were off."
+
+"One word, before we leave," said Hansford, sadly. "My pistol ball took
+effect, I know; who is its victim?"
+
+"A poor Indian girl, who conducted us to your fastness," said Bernard.
+"I had forgotten her myself, till now. Look, Holliday, does she still
+live?"
+
+"Dead as a herring, your honour," said the man, as he bent over the
+body, with deep feeling, for, though accustomed to the flow of blood,
+he had taken a lively interest in the poor girl, from what he had seen
+and overheard. "And by God, Cap'n, begging your honour's pardon, a brave
+girl she was, too, although she was an Injin."
+
+"Poor Mamalis," said Hansford, tenderly, "you have met with an early and
+a sad fate. I little thought that she would betray me."
+
+"Nay, wrong not the dead," interposed Bernard, "I assure you, she knew
+nothing of the object of our coming. But all's fair in war, Major, and a
+little intrigue was necessary to track you to this obscure hold."
+
+"Well, farewell, poor luckless maiden! And so I've killed my friend,"
+said Hansford, sorrowfully. "Alas! Mr. Bernard, my arm has been felt in
+battle, and has sent death to many a foe. But, God forgive me! this is
+the first blood I have ever spilt, except in battle, and this, too,
+flows from a woman."
+
+"Think not of it thus," said Bernard, whose hard nature could not but be
+touched by this display of unselfish grief on the part of his prisoner.
+"It was but an accident, and should not rest heavily on your soul. Stay,
+Holliday, I would not have the poor girl rot here, either. Suppose you
+take the body to Windsor Hall, where it will be treated with due
+respect. Thompson and myself can, meantime, attend the prisoner."
+
+"Look ye, Cap'n," said Holliday, with the superstition peculiar to
+vulgar minds; "'taint that I'm afeard exactly neither, but its a mighty
+dissolute feeling being alone in a dark night with a corp. I'd rather
+kill fifty men, than to stay by myself five minutes, with the smallest
+of the fifty after he was killed."
+
+"Well, then, you foolish fellow, go to the hall to-night and inform them
+of her death, and excuse me to Colonel Temple for my abrupt departure,
+and meet me with the rest of the men at Tindal's Point as soon as
+possible. I will bide there for you. But first help me to take the poor
+girl's body into the wigwam. I suppose she will rest quietly enough here
+till morning. Major Hansford," he added, courteously, "our horses are
+ready I perceive. You can take Holliday's there. He can provide himself
+with another at the hall. Shall we ride, sir?"
+
+With a sad heart the captive-bound Hansford mounted with difficulty the
+horse prepared for him, which was led by Thompson, while Bernard rode by
+his side, and with more of courtesy than could be expected from him,
+endeavoured to beguile the way with conversation with his prisoner.
+
+Meanwhile Holliday, whistling for company, and ever and anon looking
+behind him warily, to see whether the disembodied Mamalis was following
+him, bent his steps towards the hall, to communicate to the unsuspecting
+Virginia the heavy tidings of her lover's capture. The rough soldier,
+although his nature had been blunted by long service and familiarity
+with scenes of distress, was not without some feelings, and showed even
+in his rude, uncultivated manners, the sympathy and tenderness which was
+wanting in the more polished but harder heart of Alfred Bernard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+                            "Go to Lord Angelo,
+    And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,
+    Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,
+    All their petitions are as freely theirs,
+    As they themselves would owe them."
+                                _Measure for Measure._
+
+
+It were impossible to describe the silent agony of Virginia Temple, when
+she learned from Holliday, on the following morning, the capture of
+Hansford. She felt that it was the wreck of all her hopes, and that the
+last thread which still hung between her and despair was snapped. But
+even in that dark hour, her strength of mind, and her firmness of
+purpose forsook her not. There was still a duty for her to perform in
+endeavouring to procure his pardon, and she entertained, with the
+trusting confidence of her young heart, the strong hope that Berkeley
+would grant her request. On this sacred errand she determined to go at
+once. Although she did not dream of the full extent of Bernard's
+hypocrisy, yet all his efforts had been unavailing to restore full
+confidence in his sincerity. She dared not trust a matter of such
+importance to another, especially when she had reason to suspect that
+that other was far from being friendly in his feelings towards her
+lover. Once determined on her course, she lost no time in informing her
+parents of her resolution; and so, when they were all seated around the
+breakfast-table, she said quietly, but firmly--
+
+"I am going to Accomac to-day, father."
+
+"To where!" cried her mother; "why surely, child, you must be out of
+your senses."
+
+"No, dearest mother, my calmness is not an indication of insanity. If I
+should neglect this sacred duty, you might then indeed tremble for my
+reason."
+
+"What in the world are you thinking of, Jeanie!" said her father, in his
+turn surprised at this sudden resolution; "what duties can call you to
+Accomac?"
+
+"I go to save life," replied Virginia. "Can you wonder, my father, that
+when I see all that I hold dearest in life just trembling on the verge
+of destruction, I should desire to do all in my power to save it."
+
+"You are right, my child," replied her father, tenderly; "if it were
+possible for you to accomplish any good. But what can you do to rescue
+Hansford from the hand of justice?"
+
+"Of justice!" said Virginia, "and can you unite with those, my dear
+father, who profane the name of justice by applying it to the relentless
+cruelty with which blind vengeance pursues its victims?"
+
+"Ah, Jeanie!" said her father, smiling, as he pressed her hand tenderly;
+"you should remember, in language of the quaint old satirist, Butler,
+
+    'No thief e'er felt the halter draw,
+    With good opinion of the law;'
+
+and although I would not apply the bitter couplet to my little Jeanie in
+its full force, yet she must own that her interest in its present
+application, prevents her from being a very competent judge of its
+propriety and justice."
+
+"But surely, dear father, you cannot think that these violent measures
+against the unhappy parties to the late rebellion, are either just or
+politic?"
+
+"I grant, my child, that to my own mind, a far more humane policy might
+be pursued consistent with the ends of justice. To inspire terror in a
+subject is not the surest means to secure his allegiance or his love for
+government. I am sure, if you were afraid of your old father, and
+always in dread of his wrath and authority, you would not love him as
+you do, Jeanie--and government is at last nothing but a larger family."
+
+"Well, then," returned the artless girl, "why should I not go to Sir
+William Berkeley, and represent to him the harshness of his course, and
+the propriety of tempering his revenge with mercy?"
+
+"First, my daughter, because I have only expressed my private opinion,
+which would have but little weight with the Governor, or any one else
+but you and mother, there. Remember that we are neither the framers nor
+the administrators of the law. And then you would make but a poor
+mediator, my darling, if you were to attempt to dissuade the Governor
+from his policy, by charging him with cruelty and injustice. Think no
+more of this wild idea, my dear child. It can do no good, and reflects
+more credit on your warm, generous heart, than on your understanding or
+experience."
+
+"Hinder me not, my father," said Virginia, earnestly, her blue eyes
+filling with tears. "I can but fail, and if you would save me from the
+bitterness of self-reproach hereafter, let me go. Oh, think how it would
+add bitterness to the cup of grief, if, when closing the eyes of a dead
+friend, we should think that we had left some remedy untried which might
+have saved his life! If I fail, it will at least be some consolation,
+even in despair, that I did all that I could to avert his fate; and if I
+succeed--oh! how transporting the thought that the life of one I love
+had been spared through my interposition. Then hinder me not, father,
+mother--if you would not destroy your daughter's peace forever, oh, let
+me go!"
+
+The solemn earnestness with which the poor girl thus urged her parents
+to grant her request, deeply affected them both; and the old lady,
+forgetting in her love for her daughter the indelicacy and impropriety
+of her plan, volunteered her very efficient advocacy of Virginia's
+cause.
+
+"Indeed, Colonel Temple," she said, "you should not oppose Virginia in
+this matter. You will have enough to reproach yourself for, if by your
+means you should prevent her from doing what she thinks best. And,
+indeed, I like to see a young girl show so much spirit and interest in
+her lover's fate. It is seldom you see such things now-a-days, though it
+used to be common enough in England. Now, just put it to yourself."
+
+The Colonel accordingly did "put it to himself," and, charmed with his
+daughter's affection and heroism, concluded himself to accompany her to
+Accomac, and exert his own influence with the Governor in procuring the
+pardon of the unhappy Hansford.
+
+"Now that's as it should be," said the old lady, gratified at this
+renewed assurance of her ascendency over her husband. "And now,
+Virginia, cheer up. All will be right, my dear, for your father has
+great influence with the Governor--and, indeed, well he might have, for
+he has received kindness enough at our hands in times past. I should
+like to see him refuse your father a favour. And I will write a note to
+Lady Frances myself, for all the world knows that she is governor and
+all with her husband."
+
+"Ladies generally are," said the Colonel, with a smile, which however
+could not disguise the sincerity with which he uttered the sentiment.
+
+"Oh, no, not at all," retorted the old lady, bridling up. "You are
+always throwing up your obedience to me, and yet, after all said and
+done, you have your own way pretty much, too. But you are not decent to
+go anywhere. Do, pray, Colonel Temple, pay more respect to society, and
+fix yourself up a little. Put on your blue coat and your black stock,
+and dress your hair, and shave, and look genteel for once in your life."
+Then, seeing by the patient shrug of her good old husband that she had
+wounded his feelings, she patted him tenderly on the shoulder, and
+added, "You know I always love to see you nice and spruce, and when you
+do attend to your dress, and fix up, I know of none of them that are
+equal to you. Do you, Virginia?"
+
+Before the good Colonel had fully complied with all the toilet
+requisitions of his wife, the carriage was ready to take the travellers
+to Tindal's Point, where there was luckily a small sloop, just under
+weigh for Accomac. And Virginia, painfully alternating between hope and
+fear, but sustained by a consciousness of duty, was borne away across
+the broad Chesapeake, on her pious pilgrimage, to move by her tears and
+prayers the vindictive heart of the stern old Governor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV.
+
+     "Why, there's an end then! I have judged deliberately, and the
+     result is death."                        _The Gamester._
+
+
+
+Situated, as nearly as might be, in the centre of each of the counties
+of Virginia, was a small settlement, which, although it aspired to the
+dignity of a town, could scarcely deserve the name. For the most part,
+these little country towns, as they were called, were composed of about
+four houses, to wit: The court house, dedicated to justice, where sat,
+monthly, the magistrates of the county, possessed of an unlimited
+jurisdiction in all cases cognizable in law or chancery, not touching
+life or murder, and having the care of orphans' persons and estates; the
+jail, wherein prisoners committed for any felony were confined, until
+they could be brought before the general court, which had the sole
+criminal jurisdiction in the colony; the tavern, a long, low wooden
+building, generally thronged with loafers and gossips, and reeking with
+the fumes of tobacco smoke, apple-brandy and rye-whiskey; and, finally,
+the store, which shared, with the tavern, the patronage of the loafers,
+and which could be easily recognized by the roughly painted board sign,
+containing a catalogue of the goods within, arranged in alphabetical
+order, without reference to any other classification. Thus the
+substantial farmer, in search of a pound of _candy_ for his little white
+headed barbarians, whom he had left at play, must needs pass his finger
+over "cards, chains, calico, cowhides, and candy;" or, if he had come to
+"town" to purchase a bushel of meal for family use, his eye was greeted
+with the list of M's, containing meal, mustard, mousetraps, and
+molasses.
+
+It was to the little court house town of the county of Accomac, that Sir
+William Berkeley had retired after the burning of Jamestown; and here he
+remained, since the suppression of the rebellion, like a cruel old
+spider, in the centre of his web, awaiting, with grim satisfaction, the
+capture of such of the unwary fugitives as might fall into his power.
+
+"Well, gentlemen, the court martial is set," said Sir William Berkeley,
+as he gazed upon the gloomy faces of the military men around him, in the
+old court house of Accomac. In that little assembly, might be seen the
+tall and manly form of Colonel Philip Ludwell, who had been honoured, by
+the especial confidence of Berkeley, as he was, afterwards, by the
+constant and tender love of the widowed Lady Frances. There, too, was
+the stern, hard countenance of Major Robert Beverley, whose unbending
+loyalty had shut his eyes to true merit in an opponent. The names of the
+remaining members of the court, have, unfortunately, not found a place
+in the history of the rebellion. Alfred Bernard, on whom the governor
+had showered, with a lavish hand, the favours which it was in his power
+to bestow, had been promoted to the office of Major, in the room of
+Thomas Hansford, outlawed, and was, therefore, entitled to a seat at the
+council which was to try the life of his rival. But as his evidence was
+of an important character, and as he had been concerned directly in the
+arrest of the prisoner, he preferred to act in the capacity of a
+witness, rather than as a judge.
+
+"Let the prisoner be brought before the court," said Berkeley; and in a
+few moments, Hansford, with his hands manacled, was led, between a file
+of soldiers, to the seat prepared for him. His short confinement had
+made but little change in his appearance. His face, indeed, was paler
+than usual, and his eye was brighter, for the exciting and solemn scene
+through which he was about to pass. But prejudged, though he was, his
+firmness never forsook him, and he met with a calm, but respectful gaze,
+the many eyes which were bent upon him. Conspicuous among the rebels,
+and popular and beloved in the colony, his trial had attracted a crowd
+of spectators; some impelled by vulgar curiosity, some by their loyal
+desire to witness the trial of a rebel to his king, but not a few by
+sympathy for his early and already well known fate.
+
+As might well be expected, there was but little difficulty in
+establishing his participation in the late rebellion. There were many of
+the witnesses, who had seen him in intimate association with Bacon, and
+several who recognized him as among the most active in the trenches at
+Jamestown. To crown all, the irresistible evidence was introduced by
+Bernard, that the prisoner had actually brought a threatening message to
+the governor, while at Windsor Hall, which had induced the first flight
+to Accomac. It was useless to resist the force of such accumulated
+testimony, and Hansford saw that his fate was settled. It were folly to
+contend before such a tribunal, that his acts did not constitute
+rebellion, or that the court before whom he was arraigned was
+unconstitutional. The devoted victim of their vengeance, therefore,
+awaited in silence the conclusion of this solemn farce, which they had
+dignified by the name of a trial.
+
+The evidence concluded, Sir William Berkeley, as Lord President of the
+Court, collected the suffrages of its members. It might easily be
+anticipated by their gloomy countenances, what was the solemn import of
+their judgment. Thomas Ludwell, the secretary of the council, acted as
+the clerk, and in a voice betraying much emotion, read the fatal
+decision. The sympathizing bystanders, who in awful silence awaited the
+result, drew a long breath as though relieved from their fearful
+suspense, even by having heard the worst. And Hansford was to die! He
+heard with much emotion the sentence which doomed him to a traitor's
+death the next day at noon; and those who were near, heard him sob, "My
+poor, poor mother!" But almost instantly, with a violent effort he
+controlled his feelings, and asked permission to speak.
+
+"Surely," said the Governor, "provided your language be respectful to
+the Court, and that you say nothing reflecting on his majesty's
+government at home or in the Colony of Virginia."
+
+"These are hard conditions," said Hansford, rising from his seat, "as
+with such limitations, I can scarcely hope to justify my conduct. But I
+accept your courtesy, even with these conditions. A dying man has at
+last but little to say, and but little disposition to mingle again in
+the affairs of a world which he must so soon leave. In the short, the
+strangely short time allotted to me, I have higher and holier concerns
+to interest me. Ere this hour to-morrow, I will have passed from the
+scenes of earth to appear before a higher tribunal than yours, and to
+answer for the forgotten sins of my past life. But I thank my God, that
+while that awful tribunal is higher, it is also juster and more merciful
+than yours. Even in this sad moment, however, I cannot forget the
+country for which I have lived, and for which I must so soon die. I see
+by your countenances that I am already transcending your narrow limits.
+But it cannot be treason to pray for her, and as my life has been
+devoted to her service, so will my prayers for her welfare ascend with
+my petitions for forgiveness.
+
+"I would say a word as to the offence with which I have been charged,
+and the evidence on which I have been convicted. That evidence amounts
+to the fact that I was in arms, by the authority of the Governor,
+against the common enemies of my country. Is this treason? That I was
+the bearer of a threatening message to the Governor from General Bacon,
+which caused the first flight into Accomac. And here I would say," and
+he fixed his eyes full on Alfred Bernard, as he spoke, who endeavoured
+to conceal his feelings by a smile of scorn, "that the evidence on this
+point has been cruelly, shamefully garbled and perverted. It was never
+stated that, while as the minister of another, I bore the message
+referred to, I urged the Governor to consider and retract the
+proclamation which he had made, and offered my own mediation to restore
+peace and quiet to the Colony. Had my advice been taken the beams of
+peace would have once more burst upon Virginia, the scenes which are
+constantly enacted here, and which will continue to be enacted, would
+never have disgraced the sacred name of justice; and the name of Sir
+William Berkeley would not be handed down to the execrations of
+posterity as a dishonoured knight, and a brutal, bloody butcher."
+
+"Silence!" cried the incensed old Governor, in tones of thunder, "or by
+the wounds of God, I'll shorten the brief space which now interposes
+between you and eternity. Is this redeeming your promise of respect?"
+
+"I beg pardon," said Hansford, undaunted by the menace. "Excuse me, if I
+cannot speak patiently of cruelty and oppression. But let this pass.
+That perfidious wretch who would rise above my ruins, never breathed a
+word of this, when on the evangelist of Almighty God he was sworn to
+speak the truth. But if such evidence be sufficient to convict me of
+treason now, why was it not sufficient then? Why, with the same facts
+before you, did you, Sir William Berkeley, discharge the traitor in
+arms, and now seek his death when disarmed and impotent? One other link
+remains in the chain, this feeble chain of evidence. I aided in the
+siege of Jamestown, and once more drove the Governor and his fond
+adherents from their capital, to their refuge in the Accomac. I cannot,
+I will not deny it. But neither can this be treason, unless, indeed, Sir
+William Berkeley possesses in his own person the sacred majesty of
+Virginia. For when he abdicated the government by his first flight from
+the soil of Virginia, the sovereign people of the Colony, assembled in
+solemn convention, declared his office vacant. In that convention, you,
+my judges, well know, for you found it to your cost, were present a
+majority of the governor's council, the whole army, and almost the
+entire chivalry and talent of the colony. In their name writs were
+issued for an assembly, which met under their authority, and the
+commission of governor was placed in the hands of Nathaniel Bacon."
+
+"By an unauthorized mob," said Berkeley, unable to restrain his
+impatience.
+
+"By an organized convention of sovereign people," returned Hansford,
+proudly. "You, Sir William Berkeley, deemed it not an unauthorized mob,
+when confiding in your justice, and won by your soft promises, a similar
+convention, composed of cavaliers and rich landholders, confided to
+your hands, in 1659, the high trust which you now hold. If such a
+proceeding were unauthorized then, were you not guilty in accepting the
+commission? If authorized, were not the same people competent to bestow
+the trust upon another, whom they deemed more worthy to hold it? If this
+be so, the insurgents, as you have chosen to call them, were not in arms
+against the government at the siege of Jamestown. And thus the last
+strand in the coil of evidence, with which you have involved me, is
+broken, as withs are severed at the touch of fire. But light as is the
+testimony against me, it is sufficient to turn the beam of justice, when
+the sword of Brennus is cast into the scale.
+
+"One word more and I am done; for I see you are impatient for the
+sacrifice. I had thought that I would have been tried by a jury of my
+peers. Such I deemed my right as a British subject. But condemned by the
+extraordinary and unwarranted proceedings of this Star Chamber"--
+
+"Silence!" cried Berkeley, again waxing wroth at such an imputation.
+
+"I beg pardon once more," continued Hansford, "I thought the favourite
+institution of Charles the First would not have met with so little
+favour from such loyal cavaliers. But I demand in the name of Freedom,
+in the name of England, in the name of God and Justice, when was Magna
+Charta or the Petition of Right abolished on the soil of Virginia? Is
+the Governor of Virginia so little of a lawyer that he remembers not the
+language of the stout Barons of Runnymede, unadorned in style, but
+pregnant with freedom. 'No freeman may be taken or imprisoned, or be
+disseised of his freehold or liberties, or his free-customs, or be
+outlawed or exiled, or in any manner destroyed, but by the lawful
+judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land.' Excuse me, gentlemen,
+for repeating to such sage judges so old and hackneyed a fragment of the
+law. But until to-day, I had been taught to hold those words as sacred,
+and as indeed containing the charter of the liberties of an Englishman.
+Alas! it will no longer be hackneyed nor quoted by the slaves of
+England, except when they mourn with bitter but hopeless tears, for the
+higher and purer freedom of their ruder fathers. Why am I thus arraigned
+before a court-martial in time of peace? Am I found in arms? Am I even
+an officer or a soldier? The commission which I once held has been torn
+from me, and given, as his thirty pieces, to you dissembling Judas, for
+the price of my betrayal. But I am done. Your tyranny and oppression
+cannot last for ever. The compressed spring will at last recoil with
+power proportionate to the force by which it has been restrained--and
+freed posterity will avenge on a future tyrant my cruel and unnatural
+murder."
+
+Hansford sat down, and Sir William Berkeley, flushed with indignation,
+replied,
+
+"I had hoped that the near approach of death, if not a higher motive,
+would have saved us from such treasonable sentiments. But, sir, the
+insolence of your manner has checked any sympathy which I might have
+entertained for your early fate. I, therefore, have only to pronounce
+the judgment of the court; that you be taken to the place whence you
+came, and there safely kept until to-morrow noon, when you will be
+taken, with a rope about your neck, to the common gallows, and there
+hung by the neck until you are dead. And may the Lord Jesus Christ have
+mercy on your soul!"
+
+"Amen!" was murmured, in sad whispers, by the hundreds of pale
+spectators who crowded around the unhappy prisoner.
+
+"How is this!" cried Hansford, once more rising to his feet, with strong
+emotion. "Gentlemen, you are soldiers, as such I may claim you as
+brethren, as such you should be brave and generous men. On that
+generosity, in this hour of peril, I throw myself, and ask as a last
+indulgence, as a dying favour, that I may die the death of a soldier,
+and not of a felon."
+
+"You have lived a traitor's, not a soldier's life," said Berkeley, in an
+insulting tone. "A soldier's life is devoted to his king and country;
+yours to a rebel and to treason. You shall die the death of a traitor."
+
+"Well, then, I have done," said Hansford, with a sigh, "and must look to
+Him alone for mercy, who can make the felon's gallows as bright a
+pathway to happiness, as the field of glory."
+
+Many a cheek flushed with indignation at the refusal of the governor to
+grant this last petition of a brave man. A murmur of dissatisfaction
+arose from the crowd, and even some sturdy loyalists were heard to
+mutter, "shame." The other members of the court were seen to confer
+together, and to remonstrate with the governor.
+
+"'Fore God, no," said Berkeley, in a whisper to his advisers. "Think of
+the precedent it will establish. Traitor he has lived, and as far as my
+voice can go, traitor he shall die. I suppose the sheep-killing hound,
+and the egg-sucking cur, will next whine out their request to be shot
+instead of hung."
+
+So great was the influence of Berkeley, over the minds of the court,
+that, after a feeble remonstrance, the petition of the prisoner was
+rejected. Old Beverley alone, was heard to mutter in the ear of Philip
+Ludwell, that it was a shame to deny a brave man a soldier's death, and
+doom him to a dog's fate.
+
+"And for all this," he added, "its a damned hard lot, and blast me, but
+I think Hansford to be worth in bravery and virtue, fifty of that
+painted popinjay, Bernard, whose cruelty is as much beyond his years as
+his childish vanity is beneath them."
+
+"Well, gentlemen, I trust you are now satisfied," said Berkeley.
+"Sheriff, remove your prisoner, and," looking angrily around at the
+malecontents, "if necessary, summon an additional force to assist you."
+
+The officer, however, deemed no such precaution necessary, and the
+hapless Hansford was conducted back to his cell under the same guard
+that brought him thence; there to await the execution on the morrow of
+the fearful sentence to which he had been condemned.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+    _Isabella._ "Yet show some pity.
+
+    _Angelo._ I show it most of all when I show justice."
+                                              _Measure for Measure._
+
+
+That evening Sir William Berkeley was sitting in the private room at the
+tavern, which had been fitted up for his reception. He had strictly
+commanded his servants to deny admittance to any one who might wish to
+see him. The old man was tired of counsellors, advisers, and
+petitioners, who harassed him in their attempt to curb his impatient
+ire, and he was determined to act entirely for himself. He had thus been
+sitting for more than an hour, looking moodily into the fire, without
+even the officious Lady Frances to interfere with his reflections, when
+a servant in livery entered the room.
+
+"If your Honour please," said the obsequious servitor, "there is a lady
+at the door who says she must see you on urgent business. I told her
+that you could not be seen, but she at last gave me this note, which she
+begged me to hand you."
+
+Berkeley impatiently tore open the note and read as follows:--
+
+     "By his friendship for my father, and his former kindness to me, I
+     ask for a brief interview with Sir William Berkeley.
+                                                    "VIRGINIA TEMPLE."
+
+"Fore God!" said the Governor, angrily, "they beset me with an
+importunity which makes me wretched. What the devil can the girl want!
+Some favour for Bernard, I suppose. Well, any thing for a moment's
+respite from these troublesome rebels. Show her up, Dabney."
+
+In another moment the door again opened, and Virginia Temple, pale and
+trembling, fell upon her knees before the Governor, and raised her soft,
+blue eyes to his face so imploringly, that the heart of the old man was
+moved to pity.
+
+"Rise, my daughter," he said, tenderly; "tell me your cause of grief. It
+surely cannot be so deep as to bring you thus upon your knees to an old
+friend. Rise then, and tell me."
+
+"Oh, thank you," she said, with a trembling voice, "I knew that you were
+kind, and would listen to my prayer."
+
+"Well, Virginia," said the Governor, in the same mild tone, "let me hear
+your request? You know, we old servants of the king have not much time
+to spare at best, and these are busy times. Is your father well, and
+your good mother? Can I serve them in any thing?"
+
+"They are both well and happy, nor do they need your aid," said
+Virginia; "but I, sir, oh! how can I speak. I have come from Windsor
+Hall to ask that you will be just and merciful. There is, sir, a brave
+man here in chains, who is doomed to die--to die to-morrow. Oh,
+Hansford, Hansford!" and unable longer to control her emotion, the poor,
+broken-hearted girl burst into an agony of tears.
+
+Berkeley's brow clouded in an instant.
+
+"And is it for that unhappy man, my poor girl, that you have come alone
+to sue?"
+
+"I did not come alone," replied Virginia; "my father is with me, and
+will himself unite in my request."
+
+"I will be most happy to see my old friend again, but I would that he
+came on some less hopeless errand. Major Hansford must die. The laws
+alike of his God and his country, which he has trampled regardless under
+foot, require the sacrifice of his blood."
+
+"But, for the interposition of mercy," urged the poor girl, "the laws of
+God require the death of all--and the laws of his country have vested in
+you the right to arrest their rigour at your will. Oh, how much sweeter
+to be merciful than sternly just!"
+
+"Nay, my poor girl," said Sir William, "you speak of what you cannot
+understand, and your own griefs have blinded your mind. Justice,
+Virginia, is mercy; for by punishing the offender it prevents the
+repetition of the offence. The vengeance of the law thus becomes the
+safeguard of society, and the sword of justice becomes the sceptre of
+righteousness."
+
+"I cannot reason with you," returned Virginia. "You are a statesman, and
+I am but a poor, weak girl, ignorant of the ways of the world."
+
+"And therefore you have come to advocate this suit instead of your
+father," said Berkeley, smiling. "I see through your little plot
+already. Come, tell me now, am I not right in my conjecture? Why have
+you come to urge the cause of Hansford, instead of your father?"
+
+"Because," said Virginia, with charming simplicity, "we both thought,
+that as Sir William Berkeley had already decided upon the fate of this
+unhappy man, it would be easier to reach his heart, than to affect the
+mature decision of his judgment."
+
+"You argued rightly, my dear girl," said Berkeley, touched by her
+frankness and simplicity, as well as by her tears. "But it is the hard
+fate of those in power to deny themselves often the luxury of mercy,
+while they tread onward in the rough but straight path of justice. It is
+ours to follow the stern maxim of our old friend Shakspeare:
+
+    'Mercy but murders, pardoning those who kill.'"
+
+"But it does seem to me," said the resolute girl, losing all the native
+diffidence of her character in the interest she felt in her cause--"it
+does seem to me that even stern policy would sometimes dictate mercy.
+May not a judicious clemency often secure the love of the misguided
+citizen, while harsh justice would estrange him still farther from
+loyalty?"
+
+"There, you are trenching upon your father's part, my child," said the
+Governor. "You must not go beyond your own cue, you know--for believe me
+that your plea for mercy would avail far more with me than your reasons,
+however cogent. This rebellion proceeded too far to justify any clemency
+toward those who promoted it."
+
+"But it is now suppressed," said Virginia, resolutely; "and is it not
+the sweetest attribute of power, to help the fallen? Oh, remember," she
+added, carried away completely by her subject,
+
+    "'Less pleasure take brave minds in battles won,
+    Than in restoring such as are undone;
+    Tigers have courage, and the rugged bear,
+    But man alone can, when he conquers, spare.'"
+
+"I did not expect to hear your father's daughter defend her cause by
+such lines as these. Do you know where they are found?"
+
+"They are Waller's, I believe," said Virginia, blushing at this
+involuntary display of learning; "but it is their truth, and not their
+author, which suggested them to me."
+
+"Your memory is correct," said Berkeley, with a smile, "but they are
+found in his panegyric on the Protector. A eulogy upon a traitor is bad
+authority with an old cavalier like me."
+
+"If, then, you need authority which you cannot question," the girl
+replied, earnestly, "do you think that the royal cause lost strength by
+the mild policy of Charles the Second? That is authority that even you
+dare not question."
+
+"Well, and what if I should say," replied Berkeley, "that this very
+leniency was one of the causes that encouraged the recent rebellion? But
+go, my child; I would rejoice if I could please you, but Hansford's fate
+is settled. I pity you, but I cannot forgive him." And with a courteous
+inclination of his head, he signified his desire that their interview
+should end.
+
+"Nay," shrieked Virginia, in desperation, "I will not let you go, except
+you bless me," and throwing herself again upon her knees, she implored
+his mercy. Berkeley, who, with all his sternness, was not an unfeeling
+man, was deeply moved. What the result might have been can never be
+known, for at that moment a voice was heard from the street exclaiming,
+"Drummond is taken!" In an instant the whole appearance of the Governor
+changed. His cheek flushed and his eye sparkled, as with hasty strides
+he left the room and descended the stairs. No more the fine specimen of
+a cavalier gentleman, his manner became at once harsh and irritable.
+
+"Well, Mr. Drummond," he cried, as he saw the proud rebel led manacled
+to the door. "'Fore God, and I am more delighted to see you than any man
+in the colony. You shall hang in half an hour."
+
+"And if he do," shrieked the wild voice of a woman from the crowd,
+"think you that with your puny hand you can arrest the current of
+liberty in this colony? And when you appear before the dread bar of
+God, the spirits of these martyred patriots will rise up to condemn you,
+and fiends shall snatch at your blood-stained soul, perfidious tyrant!
+And I will be among them, for such a morsel of vengeance would sweeten
+hell. Ha! ha! ha!"
+
+With that wild, maniac laugh, Sarah Drummond disappeared from the crowd
+of astounded spectators.
+
+History informs us that the deadly threat of Berkeley was carried into
+effect immediately. But it was not until two days afterwards that
+William Drummond met a traitor's doom upon the common gallows.
+
+Virginia Temple, thus abruptly left, and deprived of all hope, fell
+senseless on the floor of the room. The hope which had all along
+sustained her brave young heart, had now vanished forever, and kindly
+nature relieved the agony of her despair by unconsciousness. And there
+she lay, pale and beautiful, upon that floor, while the noisy clamour
+without was hailing the capture of another victim, whose fate was to
+bring sorrow and despair to another broken heart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII.
+
+    "His nature is so far from doing harm,
+    That he suspects none; on whose foolish honesty
+    My practices ride easy."
+                                            _King Lear._
+
+
+When Virginia aroused again to consciousness, her eyes met the features
+of Alfred Bernard, as he knelt over her form. Not yet realizing her
+situation, she gazed wildly about her, and in a hoarse, husky whisper,
+which fell horridly on the ear, she said, "Where is my father?"
+
+"At home, Virginia," replied Bernard, softly, chafing her white temples
+the while--"And you are here in Accomac. Look up, Virginia, and see that
+you are not without a friend even here."
+
+"Oh, now, yes, now I know it all," she shrieked, springing up with a
+wild bound, and rushing like a maniac toward the door. "They have killed
+him! I have slept here, instead of begging his life. I have murdered
+him! Ha! you, sir, are you the jailer? I should know your face."
+
+"Nay, do not speak thus, Virginia," said Bernard, holding her gently in
+his arms, "Hansford is yet alive. Be calm."
+
+"Hansford! I thought he was dead!" said the poor girl, her mind still
+wandering. "Did not Mamalis--no--she is dead--all are dead--ha? where am
+I? Sure this is not Windsor Hall. Nay, what am I talking about. Let me
+see;" and she pressed her hand to her forehead, and smoothed back her
+fair hair, as she strove to collect her thoughts. "Ah! now I know," she
+said at length, more calmly, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Bernard, I have
+acted very foolishly, I fear. But you will forgive a poor distracted
+girl."
+
+"I promised you my influence with the governor," said Bernard, "and I do
+not yet despair of effecting my object. And so be calm."
+
+"Despair!" said Virginia, bitterly, "as well might you expect to turn a
+river from the sea, as to turn the relentless heart of that bigoted old
+tyrant from blood. And yet, I thank you, Mr. Bernard, and beg that you
+will leave no means untried to preserve my poor doomed Hansford. You see
+I am quite calm now, and should you fail in your efforts to procure a
+pardon, may I ask one last melancholy favour at your hands! I would see
+him once more before we part, forever." And to prove how little she knew
+her own heart, the poor girl burst into a renewed agony of grief.
+
+"Calm your feelings, then, dear Virginia," said Bernard, "and you shall
+see him. But by giving way thus, you would unman him."
+
+"You remind me of my duty, my friend," said Virginia, controlling
+herself, with a strong effort, "and I will not again forget it in my
+selfish grief. Shall we go now?"
+
+"Remain here, but a few moments, patiently," he replied, "and I will
+seek the governor, and urge him to relent. If I fail, I will return to
+you."
+
+Leaving the young girl once more to her own sad reflections, Alfred
+Bernard left the room.
+
+"Virtue has its own reward," he muttered, as he walked slowly along. "I
+wonder how many would be virtuous if it were not so! Self is at last the
+mainspring of action, and when it produces good, we call it virtue; when
+it accomplishes evil, we call it vice; wherein, then, am I worse than my
+fellow man? Here am I, now, giving this poor girl a interview with her
+rebel lover, and extracting some happiness for them, even from their
+misery. And yet I am not a whit the worse off. Nay, I am benefited, for
+gratitude is a sure prompter of love; and when Hansford is out of the
+way, who so fit to supply the niche, left vacant in her heart, as Alfred
+Bernard, who soothed their mutual grief. Thus virtue is often a valuable
+handmaid to success, and may be used for our purposes, when we want her
+assistance, and afterwards be whistled to the winds as a pestilent jade.
+Machiavelli in politics, Loyola in religion, Rochefoucault in society,
+ye are the mighty three, who, seeing the human heart in all its
+nakedness, have dared to tear the mask from its deformed and hideous
+features."
+
+"What in the world are you muttering about, Alfred?" said Governor
+Berkeley, as they met in the porch, as Bernard had finished this
+diabolical soliloquy.
+
+"Oh nothing," replied the young intriguer. "But I came to seek your
+excellency."
+
+"And I to seek for you, my sage young counsellor; I have to advise with
+you upon a subject which lies heavy on my heart, Alfred."
+
+"You need only command my counsel and it is yours," said Bernard, "but I
+fear that I can be of little assistance in your reflections."
+
+"Yes you can, my boy," returned Berkeley, "I know not whether you will
+esteem it a compliment or not, Alfred, but yours is an old head on young
+shoulders, and the heart, which in the season of youth often flits away
+from the sober path of judgment, seems with you to follow steadily in
+the wake of reason."
+
+"If you mean that I am ever ready to sacrifice my own selfish impulses
+to my duty, I do esteem it as a compliment, though I fear not altogether
+deserved."
+
+"Well, then," said the Governor, "this poor boy, Hansford, who is to
+suffer death to-morrow, I have had a strange interview concerning him
+since I last saw you."
+
+"Aye, with Miss Temple," returned Bernard. "She told me she had seen
+you, and that you were as impregnable to assault as the rock of
+Gibraltar."
+
+"I thought so too, where treason was concerned," said Berkeley. "But
+some how, the leaven of the poor girl's tears is working strangely in my
+heart; and after I had left her, who should I meet but her old father."
+
+"Is Colonel Temple here?" asked Bernard, surprised.
+
+"Aye is he, and urged Hansford's claims to pardon with such force, that
+I had to fly from temptation. Nay he even put his plea for mercy upon
+the ground of his own former kindness to me."
+
+"The good old gentleman seems determined to be paid for that
+hospitality," said Bernard, with a sneer. "Well!"
+
+"Well, altogether I am almost determined to interpose my reprieve,
+until the wishes of his majesty are known," said Berkeley, with some
+hesitation.
+
+Bernard was silent, for some moments, and the Governor continued.
+
+"What do you say to this course Alfred?"
+
+"Simply, that if you are determined, I have nothing to say."
+
+"Nay, but I am not determined, my young friend."
+
+"Then I must ask you what are the grounds of your hesitation, before I
+can express an opinion?" said Bernard.
+
+"Well, first," said the Governor, "because it will be a personal favour
+to Colonel Temple, and will dry the tears in those blue eyes of his
+pretty daughter. His kindness to me in this unhappy rebellion would be
+but poorly requited, if I refused the first and only favour that he has
+ever asked of me."
+
+"Then hereafter," returned Bernard, quietly, "it would be good policy in
+a rebellion, for half the rebels to remain at home and entertain the
+Governor at their houses. They would thus secure the pardon of the
+rest."
+
+"Well, you young Solomon," said Berkeley, laughing, "I believe you are
+right there. It would be a dangerous precedent. But then, a reprieve is
+not a pardon, and while I might thus oblige my friends, the king could
+hereafter see the cause of justice vindicated."
+
+"And you would shift your own responsibility upon the king," replied
+Bernard. "Has not Charles Stuart enough to trouble him, with his
+rebellious subjects at home, without having to supervise every petty
+felony or treason that occurs in his distant colonies? This provision of
+our charter, denying to the Governor the power of absolute pardon, but
+granting him power to reprieve, was only made, that in doubtful cases,
+the minister might rely upon the wisdom of majesty. It was never
+intended to shift all the trouble and vexation of a colonial executive
+upon the overloaded hands of the king. If you have any doubt of
+Hansford's guilt, I would be the last to turn your heart from clemency,
+by a word of my mouth. If he be guilty, I only ask whether Sir William
+Berkeley is the man to shrink from responsibility, and to fasten upon
+his royal master the odium, if odium there be, attending the execution
+of the sentence against a rebel."
+
+"Zounds, no, Bernard, you know I am not. But then there are a plenty of
+rebels to sate the vengeance of the law, besides this poor young fellow.
+Does justice demand that all should perish?"
+
+"My kind patron," said Bernard, "to whom I owe all that I have and am,
+do not further urge me to oppose feelings so honorable to your heart.
+Exercise your clemency towards this unhappy young man, in whose fate I
+feel as deep an interest as yourself. If harm should flow from your
+mercy, who can censure you for acting from motives so generous and
+humane. If by your mildness you should encourage rebellion again,
+posterity will pardon the weakness of the Governor in the benevolence of
+the man."
+
+"Stay," said Berkeley, his pride wounded by this imputation, "you know,
+Alfred, that if I thought that clemency towards this young rebel would
+encourage rebellion in the future, I would rather lose my life than
+spare his. But speak out, and tell me candidly why you think the
+execution of this sentence necessary to satisfy justice."
+
+"You force me to an ungrateful duty," replied the young hypocrite, "for
+it is far more grateful to the heart of a benevolent man to be the
+advocate of mercy, than the stern champion of justice. But since you ask
+my reasons, it is my duty to obey you. First, then, this young man, from
+his talent, his bravery, and his high-flown notions about liberty, is
+far more dangerous than any of the insurgents who have survived
+Nathaniel Bacon. Then, he has shown that so far from repenting of his
+treason, he is ready to justify it, as witness his speech, wherein he
+predicted the triumph of revolution in Virginia, and denounced the
+vengeance of future generations upon tyranny and oppression. Nay, he
+even went farther, and characterized as brutal bloody butchers the
+avengers of the broken laws of their country."
+
+"I remember," said Berkeley, turning pale at the recollection.
+
+"But there is another cogent reason why he should suffer the penalty
+which he has so richly incurred. If your object be to secure the
+returning loyalty and affection of the people, you should not incense
+them by unjust discrimination in favour of a particular rebel. The
+friends of Drummond, of Lawrence, of Cheeseman, of Wilford, of Bland, of
+Carver, will all say, and say with justice, that you spared the
+principal leader in the rebellion, the personal friend and adviser of
+Bacon, while their own kinsmen were doomed to the scaffold. Nor will
+those ghosts walk unavenged."
+
+"I see, I see," cried Berkeley, grasping Bernard warmly by the hand.
+"You have saved me, Alfred, from a weakness which I must ever afterwards
+have deplored, and at the expense of your own feelings, my boy."
+
+"Yes, my dear patron," replied Bernard, with a sigh, "you may well say
+at the expense of my own feelings. For I too, have just witnessed a
+scene which would have moved a heart of stone; and it was at the request
+of that poor, weeping, broken-hearted girl, to save whom from distress,
+I would willingly lay down my life--it was at her request that I came to
+beg at your hands the poor privilege of a last interview with her lover.
+Even Justice, stern as are her decrees, cannot deny this boon to Mercy."
+
+"You have a generous heart, my dear boy," said the Governor, with the
+tears starting from his eyes. "There are not many men who would thus
+take delight in ministering consolation to the heart of a successful
+rival. You have my full and free permission. Go, my son, and through
+life may your heart be ever thus awake to such generous impulses, yet
+sustained and controlled by your unwavering devotion to duty and
+justice."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII.
+
+    "My life, my health, my liberty, my all!
+    How shall I welcome thee to this sad place--
+    How speak to thee the words of joy and transport?
+    How run into thy arms, withheld by fetters,
+    Or take thee into mine, while I'm thus manacled
+    And pinioned like a thief or murderer?"
+                                  _The Mourning Bride._
+
+
+How different from the soliloquy of the dark and treacherous Bernard,
+seeking in the sophistry and casuistry of philosophy to justify his
+selfishness, were the thoughts of his noble victim! Too brave to fear
+death, yet too truly great not to feel in all its solemnity the grave
+importance of the hour; with a soul formed for the enjoyment of this
+world, yet fully prepared to encounter the awful mysteries of another,
+the heart of Thomas Hansford beat calmly and healthfully, unappalled by
+the certainty that on the morrow it would beat no more. He was seated on
+a rude cot, in the room which was prepared for his brief confinement,
+reading his Bible. The proud man, who relying on his own strength had
+braved many dangers, and whose cheek had never blanched from fear of an
+earthly adversary, was not ashamed in this, his hour of great need, to
+seek consolation and support from Him who alone could conduct him
+through the dark valley of the shadow of death.
+
+The passage which he read was one of the sublime strains of the rapt
+Isaiah, and never had the promise seemed sweeter and dearer to his soul
+than now, when he could so fully appropriate it to himself.
+
+"Fear not for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by my name; thou
+art mine.
+
+"When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee; and through
+the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the
+fire thou shalt not be burnt; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.
+
+"For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy one of Israel, thy Saviour."
+
+As he read and believed the blessed assurance contained in the sacred
+promise, he learned to feel that death was indeed but the threshold to a
+purer world. So absorbed was he in the contemplation of this sublime
+theme, that he did not hear the door open, and it was some time before
+he looked up and saw Alfred Bernard and Virginia Temple, who had quietly
+entered the room.
+
+Virginia's resolution entirely gave way, and violently trembling from
+head to foot, her hands and brow as white and cold as marble, she well
+nigh sank under the sickening effect of her agony. For all this she did
+not weep. There are wounds which never indicate their existence by
+outward bleeding, and such are esteemed most dangerous. 'Tis thus with
+the spirit-wounds which despair inflicts upon its victim. Nature yields
+not to the soul the sad relief of tears, but falling in bitter drops
+they petrify and crush the sad heart, which they fail to relieve.
+
+Hansford, too, was much moved, but with a greater control of his
+feelings he said, "And so, you have come to take a last farewell,
+Virginia. This is very, very kind."
+
+"I regret," said Alfred Bernard, "that the only condition on which I
+gained admittance for Miss Temple was, that I should remain during the
+interview. Major Hansford will see the necessity of such a precaution,
+and will, I am sure, pardon an intrusion as painful to me as to
+himself."
+
+The reader, who has been permitted to see the secret workings of that
+black heart, which was always veiled from the world, need not be told
+that no such precaution was proposed by the Governor. Bernard's object
+was more selfish; it was to prevent his victim from prejudicing the mind
+of Virginia towards him, by informing her of the prominent part that he
+had taken in Hansford's trial and conviction.
+
+"Oh, certainly, sir," replied Hansford, gratefully, "and I thank you,
+Mr. Bernard, for thus affording me an opportunity of taking a last
+farewell of the strongest tie which yet binds me to earth. I had thought
+till now," he added, with emotion, "that I was fully prepared to meet my
+fate. Well, Virginia, the play is almost over, and the last dread scene,
+tragic though it be, cannot last long."
+
+"Oh, God!" cried the trembling girl, "help me--help me to bear this
+heavy blow."
+
+"Nay, speak not thus, my own Virginia," he said. "Remember that my lot
+is but the common destiny of mankind, only hastened a few hours. The
+leaves, that the chill autumn breath has strewn upon the earth, will be
+supplied by others in the spring, which in their turn will sport for a
+season in the summer wind, and fade and die with another year. Thus one
+generation passes away, and another comes, like them to live, like them
+to die and be forgotten. We need not fear death, if we have discharged
+our duty."
+
+With such words of cold philosophy did Hansford strive to console the
+sad heart of Virginia.
+
+"'Tis true, the death I die," he added with a shudder, "is what men
+call disgraceful--but the heart need feel no fear which is sheltered by
+the Rock of Ages."
+
+"And yours is sheltered there, I know," she said. "The change for you,
+though sudden and awful, must be happy; but for me! for me!--oh, God, my
+heart will break!"
+
+"Virginia, Virginia," said Hansford, tenderly, as he tried with his poor
+manacled hands to support her almost fainting form, "control yourself.
+Oh, do not add to my sorrows by seeing you suffer thus. You have still
+many duties to perform--to soothe the declining years of your old
+parents--to cheer with your warm heart the many friends who love
+you--and, may I add," he continued, with a faltering voice, "that my
+poor, poor mother will need your consolation. She will soon be without a
+protector on earth, and this sad news, I fear, will well nigh break her
+heart. To you, and to the kind hands of her merciful Father in heaven, I
+commit the charge of my widowed mother. Oh, will you not grant the last
+request of your own Hansford?"
+
+And Virginia promised, and well and faithfully did she redeem that
+promise. That widowed mother gained a daughter in the loss of her noble
+boy, and died blessing the pure-hearted girl, whose soothing affection
+had sweetened her bitter sorrows, and smoothed her pathway to the quiet
+grave.
+
+"And now, Mr. Bernard," said Hansford, "it is useless to prolong this
+sad interview. We have been enemies. Forgive me if I have ever done you
+wrong--the prayers of a dying man are for your happiness. Farewell,
+Virginia, remember me to your kind old father and mother; and look you,"
+he added, with a sigh, "give this lock of my hair to my poor mother, and
+tell her that her orphan boy, who died blessing her, requested that she
+would place it in her old Bible, where I know she will often see it, and
+remember me when I am gone forever. Once more, Virginia, fare well!
+Remember, dearest, that this brief life is but a segment of the great
+circle of existence. The larger segment is beyond the grave. Then live
+on bravely, as I know you will virtuously, and we will meet in Heaven."
+
+Without a word, for she dared not speak, Virginia received his last kiss
+upon her pale, cold forehead, and cherished it there as a seal of love,
+sacred as the sign of the Redeemer's cross, traced on the infant brow at
+the baptismal font.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX.
+
+    "Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
+      With a woeful agony,
+    Which forced me to begin my tale,
+      And then it left me free.
+    Since then, at an uncertain hour,
+      That agony returns,
+    And till this ghastly tale is told
+      My heart within me burns."
+                      _Rime of the Ancient Mariner._
+
+
+The sun shone brightly the next morning, as it rose above the forest of
+tall pines which surrounded the little village of Accomac; and as its
+rays stained the long icicles on the evergreen branches of the trees,
+they looked like the pendant jewels of amber which hung from the ears of
+the fierce, untutored chieftains of the forest. The air was clear and
+frosty, and the broad heaven, that hung like a blue curtain above the
+busy world, seemed even purer and more beautiful than ever. There, calm
+and eternal, it spread in its unclouded glory, above waters, woods,
+wilds, as if unmindful of the sorrows and the cares of earth. So hovers
+the wide providence of the eternal God over his creation, unmoved in its
+sublime depths by the joys and woes which agitate the mind of man, yet
+shining over him still, in its clear beauty, and beckoning him upwards!
+
+But on none did the sun shine with more brightness, or the sky smile
+with more bitter mockery, on that morning, than on the dark forms of
+Arthur Hutchinson and his young pupil, Alfred Bernard, as they sat
+together in the embrasure of the window which lightened the little room
+of the grave old preacher. A terrible revelation was that morning to be
+made, involving the fate of the young jesuit, and meting out a dread
+retribution for the crime that he had committed. Arthur Hutchinson had
+reserved for this day the narrative of the birth and history of Alfred
+Bernard. It had been a story which he long had desired to know, but to
+all his urgent inquiries the old preacher had given an evasive reply.
+But now there was no longer need for mystery. The design of that long
+silence had been fully accomplished, and thus the stern misanthrope
+began his narrative:
+
+"It matters little, Alfred Bernard, to speak of my own origin and
+parentage. Suffice it to say, that though not noble, by the accepted
+rules of heraldry, my parents were noble in that higher sense, in which
+all may aspire to true nobility, a patent not granted for bloody feats
+in arms, nor by an erring man, but granted to true honesty and virtue
+from the court of heaven. I was not rich, and yet, by self-denial on the
+part of my parents, and by strict economy on my own part, I succeeded in
+entering Baliol College, Oxford, where I pursued my studies with
+diligence and success. This success was more essential, because I could
+look only to my own resources in my struggle with the world. But, more
+than this, I had already learned to think and care for another than
+myself; for I had yielded my young heart to one, who requited my
+affection with her own. I have long denied myself the luxury of looking
+back upon the bright image of that fair creature, so fair, and yet so
+fatal. But for your sake, and for mine own, I will draw aside the veil,
+which has fallen upon those early scenes, and look at them again.
+
+"Mary Howard was just eighteen years of age, when she plighted her troth
+to me; and surely never has Heaven placed a purer spirit in a more
+lovely form. Trusting and affectionate, her warm heart must needs fasten
+upon something it might love; and because we had been reared together,
+and she was ignorant of the larger world around her, her love was fixed
+on me. I will not go back to those bright, joyous days of innocence and
+happiness. They are gone forever, Alfred Bernard, and I have lived, and
+now live for another object, than to indulge in the recollection of joy
+and love. The saddest day of my whole life, except one, and that has
+darkened all the rest, was when I first left her side to go to college.
+But still we looked onward with high hope, and many were the castles in
+the air, or rather the vine clad cottages, which we reared in fancy, for
+our future home. Hope, Alfred Bernard, though long deferred, it may
+sicken the heart, yet hope, however faint, is better than despair.
+
+"Well! I went to college, and my love for Mary spurred me on in my
+career, and honours came easily, but were only prized because she would
+be proud of them. But though I was a hard student, I was not without my
+friends, for I had a trusting heart then. Among these, yes, chief among
+these, was Edward Hansford."
+
+Bernard started at the mention of that name. He felt that some dark
+mystery was about to be unravelled, which would establish his connection
+with the unhappy rebel. Yet he was lost in conjecture as to the
+character of the revelation.
+
+"I have never in my long experience," continued Hutchinson, smiling
+sadly, as he observed the effect produced, "known any man who possessed,
+in so high a degree, the qualities which make men beloved and honoured.
+Brave, generous, and chivalrous; brilliant in genius, classical in
+attainment, profound in intellect. His person was a fit palace for such
+a mind and such a heart. Yes, I can think of him now as he was, when I
+first knew him, before crime of the deepest dye had darkened his soul. I
+loved him as I never had loved a man before, as I never can love a man
+again. I might forgive the past, I could never trust again.
+
+"Edward returned my love, I believe, with his whole heart. Our studies
+were the same, our feelings and opinions were congenial, and, in short,
+in the language of our great bard, we grew 'like a double cherry, only
+seeming parted.' I made him my confidant, and he used to laugh, in his
+good humoured way, at my enthusiastic description of Mary. He threatened
+to fall in love with her, himself, and to win her heart from me, and I
+dared him to do so, if he could; and even, in my joyous triumph, invited
+him home with me in vacation, that he might see the lovely conquest I
+had made. Well, home we went together, and his welcome was all that I or
+he could wish. Mary, my sweet, confiding Mary, was so kind and gentle,
+that I loved her only the more, because she loved my friend so much. I
+never dreamed of jealousy, Alfred Bernard, or I might have seen
+beforehand the wiles of the insidious tempter. How often have I looked
+with transport on their graceful forms, as they stood to watch the
+golden sunset, from that sweet old porch, over which the roses clambered
+so thickly.
+
+"But why do I thus delay. The story is at last a brief one. It wanted
+but two days of our return to Oxford, and we were all spending the day
+together at old farmer Howard's. Mary seemed strangely sad that evening,
+and whenever I spoke to her, her eyes filled with tears, and she
+trembled violently. Fool that I was, I attributed her tears and her
+agitation to her regret at parting from her lover. Little did I suspect
+the terrible storm which awaited me. Well, we parted, as lovers part,
+with sighs and tears, but with me, and alas! with me alone in hope.
+Edward himself looked moody and low-spirited, and I recollect that to
+cheer him up, I rallied him on being in love with Mary. Never will I
+forget his look, now that the riddle is solved, as he replied, fixing
+his clear, intense blue eyes upon me, 'Arthur, the wisest philosophy is,
+not to trust your all in one venture. He who embarks his hopes and
+happiness in the heart of one woman, may make shipwreck of them all.'
+
+"'And so you, Mr. Philosopher,' I replied, gaily, 'would live and die an
+old bachelor. Now, for mine own part, with little Mary's love, I promise
+you that my baccalaureate degree at Oxford will be the only one to which
+I will aspire.'
+
+"He smiled, but said nothing, and we parted for the night.
+
+"Early the next morning, even before the sun had risen, I went to his
+room to wake him--for on that day we were to have a last hunt. We had
+been laying up a stock of health, by such manly exercises for the coming
+session. Intimate as I was with him, I did not hesitate to enter his
+room without announcing myself. To my surprise he was not there, and the
+bed had evidently not been occupied. As I was about to leave the room,
+in some alarm, my eye rested upon a letter, which was lying on the
+table, and addressed to me. With a trembling hand I tore it open, and
+oh, my God! it told me all--the faithlessness of my Mary, the villainy
+of my friend."
+
+"The perfidious wretch," cried Bernard, with indignation.
+
+"Beware, Alfred Bernard," said the clergyman; "you know not what you
+say. My tale is not yet done. I remember every word of that brief letter
+now--although more than thirty years have since passed over me. It ran
+thus:
+
+"'Forgive me, Arthur; I meant not to have wronged you when I came, but
+in an unhappy moment temptation met me, and I yielded. My perfidy cannot
+be long concealed. Heaven has ordained that the fruit of our mutual
+guilt shall appear as the witness of my baseness and of Mary's shame.
+Forgive me, but above all, forgive her, Arthur.'
+
+"This was all. No name was even signed to the death warrant of all my
+hopes. At that moment a cold chill came over my heart, which has never
+left it since. That letter was the Medusa which turned it into stone. I
+did not rave--I did not weep. Believe me, Alfred Bernard, I was as calm
+at that moment as I am now. But the calmness was more terrible than open
+wrath. It was the sure indication of deep-rooted, deliberate revenge. I
+wrote a letter to my father, explaining every thing, and then saddling
+my horse, I turned his head towards old Howard's cottage, and rode like
+the lightning.
+
+"The old man was sitting in his shirt sleeves, in the porch. He saw me
+approach, and in his loud, hearty voice, which fell like fiendish
+mockery upon my ear, he cried out, 'Hallo, Arthur, my boy, come to say
+good-bye to your sweetheart again, hey! Well, that's right. You couldn't
+part like loveyers before the stranger and the old folks. Shall I call
+my little Molly down?"
+
+"'Old man,' I said, in a hollow, sepulchral voice, 'you have no
+daughter'--and throwing myself from my horse, I rushed into the house.
+
+"I will not attempt to describe the scene which followed. How the old
+man rushed to her room, and the truth flashed upon his mind that she had
+fled with her guilty lover. How he threw himself upon the bed of his
+lost and ruined daughter, and a stranger before to tears, now wept
+aloud. And how he prayed with the fervor of one who prays for the
+salvation of a soul, that God would strike with the lightning of his
+wrath the destroyer of his peace, the betrayer of his daughter's virtue.
+Had Edward Hansford witnessed that scene, he had been punished enough
+even for his guilt.
+
+"Well, he deserted the trusting girl, and she returned to her now
+darkened home; but, alas, how changed! When her child was born, the
+innocent offspring of her guilt, in the care attending its nurture, the
+violent grief of the mother gave way to a calm and settled melancholy.
+All saw that the iron had entered her soul. Her old father died,
+blessing and forgiving her, and with touching regard for his memory, she
+refused to desecrate his pure name, by permitting the child of shame to
+bear it. She called it after a distant relation, who never heard of the
+dishonour thus attached to his name. A heart so pure as was the heart of
+Mary Howard, could not long bear up beneath this load of shame. She
+lingered about five years after the birth of her boy, and on her dying
+bed confided the child to me. There in that sacred hour, I vowed to rear
+and protect the little innocent, and by God's permission I have kept
+that vow."
+
+"Oh, tell me, tell me," said Bernard, wildly, "am I that child of guilt
+and shame."
+
+"Alas! Alfred, my son, you are," said the preacher, "but oh, you know
+not all the terrible vengeance which a mysterious heaven will this day
+visit on the children of your father."
+
+As the awful truth gradually dawned upon him, Bernard cried with deep
+emotion.
+
+"And Edward Hansford! tell me what became of him?"
+
+"With the most diligent search I could hear nothing of him for years. At
+length I learned that he had come to Virginia, married a young lady of
+some fortune and family, and had at last been killed in a skirmish with
+the Indians, leaving an only son, an infant in arms, the only remaining
+comfort of his widowed mother."
+
+"And that son," cried Bernard, the perspiration bursting from his brow
+in the agony of the moment.
+
+"Is Thomas Hansford, who, I fear, this day meets his fate by a brother's
+and a rival's hand."
+
+"I demand your proof," almost shrieked the agitated fratricide.
+
+"The name first excited my suspicion," returned Hutchinson, "and made me
+warn you from crossing his path, when I saw you the night of the ball at
+Jamestown. But confirmation was not wanting, for when this morning I
+visited his cell to administer the last consolations of religion to him,
+I saw him gazing upon the features in miniature of that very Edward, who
+was the author of Mary Howard's wrongs."
+
+With a wild spring, Alfred Bernard bounded through the door, and as he
+rushed into the street, he heard the melancholy voice of the preacher,
+as he cried, "Too late, too late."
+
+Regardless of that cry, the miserable fratricide rushed madly along the
+path which led to the place of execution, where the Governor and his
+staff in accordance with the custom of the times had assembled to
+witness the death of a traitor. The slow procession with the rude sledge
+on which the condemned man was dragged, was still seen in the distance,
+and the deep hollow sound of the muffled drum, told him too plainly that
+the brief space of time which remained, was drawing rapidly to a close.
+On, on, he sped, pushing aside the surprised populace who were
+themselves hastening to the gallows, to indulge the morbid passion to
+see the death and sufferings of a fellow man. The road seemed
+lengthening as he went, but urged forward by desperation, regardless of
+fatigue, he still ran swiftly toward the spot. He came to an angle of
+the road, where for a moment he lost sight of the gloomy spectacle, and
+in that moment he suffered the pangs of unutterable woe. Still the
+muffled drum, in its solemn tones assured him that there was yet a
+chance. But as he strained his eyes once more towards the fatal spot,
+the sound of merry music and the wild shouts of the populace fell like
+horrid mockery on his ear, for it announced that all was over.
+
+"Too late, too late," he shrieked, in horror, as he fell prostrate and
+lifeless on the ground.
+
+And above that dense crowd, unheeding the wild shout of gratified
+vengeance that went up to heaven in that fearful moment, the soul of the
+generous and patriotic Hansford soared gladly on high with the spirits
+of the just, in the full enjoyment of perfect freedom.
+
+<tb>
+
+Reader my tale is done! The spirits I have raised abandon me, and as
+their shadows pass slowly and silently away, the scenes that we have
+recounted seem like the fading phantoms of a dream.
+
+Yet has custom made it a duty to give some brief account of those who
+have played their parts in this our little drama. In the present case,
+the intelligent reader, familiar with the history of Virginia, will
+require our services but little.
+
+History has relieved us of the duty of describing how bravely Thomas
+Hansford met his early fate, and how by his purity of life, and his
+calmness in death, he illustrated the noble sentiment of Corneile, that
+the crime and not the gallows constitutes the shame.
+
+History has told how William Berkeley, worn out by care and age, yielded
+his high functions to a milder sway, and returned to England to receive
+the reward of his rigour in his master's smile; and how that Charles
+Stuart, who with all his faults was not a cruel man, repulsed the stern
+old loyalist with a frown, and made his few remaining days dark and
+bitter.
+
+History has recorded the tender love of Berkeley for his wife, who long
+mourned his death, and at length dried her widowed tears on the warm and
+generous bosom of Philip Ludwell.
+
+And lastly, history has recorded how the masculine nature of Sarah
+Drummond, broken down with affliction and with poverty, knelt at the
+throne of her king to receive from his justice the broad lands of her
+husband, which had been confiscated by the uncompromising vengeance of
+Sir William Berkeley.
+
+Arthur Hutchinson, the victim of the treachery of his early friends,
+returned to England, and deprived of the sympathy of all, and of the
+companionship of Bernard, whose society had become essential to his
+happiness, pined away in obscurity, and died of a broken heart.
+
+Alfred Bernard, the treacherous friend, the heartless lover, the
+remorseful fratricide, could no longer raise his eyes to the betrothed
+mistress of his brother. He returned, with his patron, Sir William
+Berkeley, to his native land; and in the retirement of the old man's
+desolate home, he led a few years of deep remorse. Upon the death of his
+patron, his active spirit became impatient of the seclusion in which he
+had been buried, and true to his religion, if to naught else, he
+engaged in one of the popish plots, so common in the reign of Charles
+the Second, and at last met a rebel's fate.
+
+Colonel and Mrs. Temple, lived long and happily in each other's love;
+administering to the comfort of their bereaved child, and mutually
+sustaining each other, as they descended the hill of life, until they
+"slept peacefully together at its foot." The events of the Rebellion,
+having been consecrated by being consigned to the glorious _past_,
+furnished a constant theme to the old lady--and late in life she was
+heard to say, that you could never meet now-a-days, such loyalty as then
+prevailed, nor among the rising generation of powdered fops, and
+flippant damsels, could you find such faithful hearts as Hansford's and
+Virginia's.
+
+And Virginia Temple, the gentle and trusting Virginia, was not entirely
+unhappy. The first agony of despair subsided into a gentle melancholy.
+Content in the performance of the quiet duties allotted to her, she
+could look back with calmness and even with a melancholy pleasure to the
+bright dream of her earlier days. She learned to kiss the rod which had
+smitten her, and which blossomed with blessings--and purified by
+affliction, her gentle nature became ripened for the sweet reunion with
+her Hansford, to which she looked forward with patient hope. The human
+heart, like the waters of Bethesda, needs often to be troubled to yield
+its true qualities of health and sweetness. Thus was it with Virginia,
+and in a peaceful resignation to her Father's will, she lived and passed
+away, moving through the world, like the wind of the sweet South,
+receiving and bestowing blessings.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+ +----------------------------------------------------------------+
+ | Tanscriber's Notes:                                            |
+ | Left inconsistent use of punctuation.                          |
+ | Page 19: Changed Virgnia to Virginia.                          |
+ | Page 210: Changed wantlng to wanting.                          |
+ | Page 228: Changed afaid to afraid.                             |
+ | Page 233: Changed Britian to Britain.                          |
+ | Page 242: Changed beseiged to besieged.                        |
+ | Page 246: Left quote as: It is the cry of women, good, my lord |
+ | Page 278: Changed tinings to tidings.                          |
+ | Page 281: Changed requium to requiem.                          |
+ | Page 351: Changed pefidious to perfidious                      |
+ +----------------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hansford: A Tale of Bacon's Rebellion, by
+St. George Tucker
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