Roebuck
page: (TitlePage) [View Page (TitlePage) ]\ I' ~ROEBUCK: / NEW' YORK: M. DOOLADY, t~UBLISIIER, 448 Bmxmn~ STR~RT. 18f56. ~ S / page: (Table of Contents) [View Page (Table of Contents) ] * I 4 I i. CONT~TTSM 4 ~Eritered according to Act of Congress, in the year I BGG, BY *M. DOOLADY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Scutbern District of New York. In ~OhBDge Puke U~iver0itF J1it4 23 1932 6/ j; I W. GANNON, 8TEREO~FY PEU, - No~1D5NMsRW8t.,~N. Y- JOIfl~T .7. REED, PRINTh1~, I~earA3 Coutz~e St.. N.Y, CIIAPTRR I.-The Fairflixes of Roebuck. 5 II.-$laves at Roebuck. - 13 III.-Visitors at Roebuck. - - 28 IV.-Table-.Talk at Roebuck. - - 43 V.-Roebuck Threatened. - - - VI.-War. / - 65 VII. -Secession. - 71 VIII.~-Drink. - -. - -~ 84 IX.-Poor Whites near Roebuck. - - - 97 X.'--Willowbank. - - .106 XL-..Tlie Volunteers. - - - 113 XII.-Manassa. - - - 121 XIII.-A Duel. - - 133 XIV.-Roebuck after M~tnassa. - - 150 XV.---Bonibyx at Roebuck. - 161 XVL-Conspiracies. - - - 172 XVII. ,-Insurreciion - - - - 183 XVIII. -Love itt Roebuck. - - 198 XIX.--Treuiaizte. - - 210 XX. -Gabriel. - - - - 223 * a 4 page: 4 (Table of Contents) -5[View Page 4 (Table of Contents) -5] 4 CONThNTS, rn~APTEfl ~ at RoebuCk.'. - ~~IL~V'engeaflCO. - XXIII -Baxter. - - XXIV.~-A1berL Palrnet~'S Lo'~e. - XXV.- Marlc Marlin. - - XXVL-TIIe Journey. - - XXVIL~.~Doctor Dick. - ~~~x.~Washingt0rI. - - ~XXX.~FrederiC Fairfax. - - XXXL-Tlle Thid. -Ie PAG1~ - - 233 243 - - 251 - 260 - ~- 270 - 281 - 291 - 297 306 316 - - 323 ROEIUCK.,. CHAPTER~ I. / THE PAJRFAXES OF ROEBUOW. ROEBUCIC was one of the fiuiest estates in the ~coun- try. Its~, aores were reckoned by thousands, and, the slave upou it were nuinlered by Iiuu4re4s. It h~is been equally admired for beauty~ anaferlMiV. i3efore it was laidi wa~te by the ravages of invasion~ taste, ~kill ~id indu4ry iu improving, cultivating and adorning ~t had brought the ~ects of art to rivid the luxuriant beauty of nature. In front of the plantation Deer River sweeps with gentle curves-apretty st~earn, scarcely entitled to ~ appellation of a rWer. ,From the margin ofthestream spreads. out~, a wide and fertile bottojn t9~a bluff~aboi t fifty f~et high, and from. the bluffa table of iuidn~ating land extends to the foot of a hill called ~lk Ridge. Several brook; flowing from the ridge to the river, cut the plateau with ravines i~nd delis, and supply the flei4s with water. The native forest, covering many hundred acres together, and scattered here and there in small groves, i~ont4butes to the various beauties of the land- scape and to the more ~ubstantia1 uses of ~the planta- tion. Upon the table land, a furlong from the bluff, and surmounting a gentle eminence, staxi~ds t~tood. 9 page: 6-7[View Page 6-7] /* flOfll3tTClC. alas !) a large and elegant mansion, whiob, a few years ago, replaced a more ancient edifice, then destroyed by accidental fire. Before the house a grassy lawn extended belo:~v the blufl which there declined into the bottom with gradual slope. About the mansion trim walks, edged with box, led among evergreen or flowering shrubs and trees of rare foliage or stately altitude, both of native and foreign origin, and through a flower-garden blooming with all the floral glories of Virginia. At a~ greater distance orchards, vineyards, meadows and fields of corn, tobacco, wheat and other crops, in the orderly circle of their seasonS, rewarded the busy hand of skilful culture with the ripe gifts of a genial climate and prolific soil. In various directions might be seen the negro quarters, hamlets of white cabins, with' their "patches," or kitchen-gardens. attached. On every side the build- ings, fencess, irnplenwuts~ kind mc~des of cultivation, showed the intelligent spirit of modern improvement, th~.igh here and there might be detected, also, ~traits of the pride of inheritance and marks of veneration for old usages and traditions. The new mansion and the modern improvements were the work of Colonel Frederick Fairfax, the last who has borne that name. Both the name of Frederick and the title of Colonel devolved upon him by a kind of lnheritane0, as if they were annexed to the estate. During three generations they designated the proprietor. The first Colonel Frederick had won the rank in actual service. The title was transmitted by country courtesy to the son, who inherited his name and estate, and, after two generations, it became an easy trick of inheritance, by custom,, to invest Fred- erick, the succeeding son and heir, with the same title 6 1~G~BUCK. 7 when he came into poSsessipn. of the ~anie estate. This was a natural expression of courtesy on the part of a community that always respected pedigrees, nourished traditions, admired martial virtues amd afi~ected military hono~s. But the title, thus derived, was seldom conferred with his name in i~ll upon ~the third Frederick Fairfax. lie w~is usually but "Colonel Fred." to his neighbors. The hi~mblest of them eften saluted him with that familiar brevity, and he was thus commonly styled throughout tile country. It may be thence inferred that he bad effabJo manners, and a frank, cheerful, sunny disposition. This happy temper relieved, without disguising~ 14s pride of birth. His fortune excited n~ envy, yet familiarity never degraded the dignity of his demeanor. He was a mnan of tall, commanding stature, of vigorous frameand graceful action; with bold,, but regular features. Ifls complexion was f~ir~and fresh, but imbrowned by the sun. His eyes were blue, and his hair,, of light brown, was SQft, wavy and inclined to curL It began t9 note the years with ~ few silyer thre~ds-..-.white ~mark~ of happy years. Lte~va~ nearly 8L2~ty. his imnd w~.s large, penetrating and remarkable. for. seuu4 j4dg.. ruent in the affairs of life. In. cirncliict he wa~ gentle, honorable, brave and energetic. When he was young he carried away the honors of the University. Then he spent in the healthy pleasures of the c country and in visiting cities, the period assigned by custom to young gentlemen of wealth for recreation between the discipline of youth and the responsibilities of man- hood. Whilst he was thu~ en~joying. leisure~, his popu~. lar manners, the reputation of bis scholastio~'&iumphs and the general respect. for his faaniy,, induced the him. as their people Of th~ county to elect repre~en. page: 8-9[View Page 8-9] 8 ROEBUCK. tative in the legislature' of that State. lie had served several sessions in that body with rising 'credit, when the death of his father calle~1 him, at the age of thirty, to the care of his estate. Thenceforth he dev6t~d himself to agriculture and to the duties of a private citizen. In the management of a large e~tate,~and in the performance of his proper part as a gentleman of prominent position and. leading influence in his county, he found employment~ for his ability and energy. He was among the most successful planters of Virginia. Free fi~om the canker 'of avarice, he felt an honorable ambition to excel in whatever he at- tempted and a liberal pleasure in the profitable. em- ployment of all the means[ entrusted to his care. lie was proud of the public benefits which resulted from the improvements he introduced; he had pride in a princely revenue; but his benevolence was not' lees princely. As a slaveholder a numerous population depended upon him, and, with his accustomed energy, he exer- cised over them the functions both of guardian and governor. N~o slaves had their wants' supplied with more judicious or provident liberality than his; none were more contented, or with better reason; but none yielded larger profits from their labor. By regulating their industry~ according ti a ~velbdevised system, by attention to 'th&ir health, comfort and cheerfuluess- by the. employment of proper overseers, axid by the constant supervision of his own intelligence, he de- rived from the moderate exertions of all ample pros- 'perity, of which they all partook. Believing the ser- vitude of negroes under a superior race to be a need- fbul supplement to their improvident natxire, he 'did not, with sentimental inconsistency, shrink from the exercise ci' the authority and discipline which servi- tude implies. He was a~ humane master, but he was master. The community under his control was bur- dened with no drones, unless two or three able.~bodied but idle pensioners deserved that opprobrious epi- thet. It was a community which produced within it- self nearly everything that its essential wants. re- quired. Among the~ servants were carpenters, shoe- makers, smiths, weavers and other Mtisans, skilful in their trades. Besides the staple crops, the plantation produced flax, wool and other materials, to be fabri- cated for the use of the negroes. Evey married slave was allowed 'a "patch," or kitchen.garden, pro- portioned in size to the number, of his family, ~and the most thrifty among them i~nade more profit from these patches and from sales of fowls and eggs, than the ordinary wages of laborers. They were, of course, supplied with food and clothing by the master. He was not the least industrious member of the~ community. It was his habit to give the day to busi- ness, until near the hour of dinner, which was about four o'clock. He spent the morning in correspond- ence, or examining accounts or other in-door work, or, more commonly, in riding over his plantation, and giving his personal attention to all its operations. This had been his 'habit for many years, and now, as he approached the age of three score, his industry was not relaxed. So benignly. crept the -shadow"'of age over his active and useful life that "his eye was not 'dim nor his natural force abased." '~His wife, some five years younger thauhirnsel~f; was a lady of comely person, and, in character and mau~ ners~ ~an agreeable type of mature womanhood. She was the daughter of a distinguished public nian, and page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 ROBBUOK. before her marriage had been a toast and a belle in the most elevated circle olr society. But when she was led to the altar, she left upon it all the gay gar~ lands of maidenly vanity, and, with the ring, she wore thenceforth the graceful dignities of wedded love. As a matron, she was proud of matronhood as the proper consummation of a woman's ambition-the natural sphere of her highest duties, honors and de- lights. In Virginia, by the grace of God, women are feminine. They aim to excel in the lovely qualities of their own sex, without competing for the prizes of the other. The form of Mrs. Fairfax had once been delicate, but years, which threatened wrinkles, brought a smooth and pleasant roundness to her cheeks and a more ample dignity to her form. As the wife of a planter and mistress of an extensive es. establishment, she had many responsibilities and -not a few anxieties. 1~ut a sense of responsibility, suited to gitch a station in life, ha4 been cultivated as part of her education, and had been exercised ever since her marriage. Sustained by her husband, she fulfilled the duties of her position with constant and cheerful fidelity. Her life was one of daily usefulness, and her servants were scarcely less indebted to her W9lnanly kindness'than to the provident care of their master. Yet, the nature of this gentlewoman was of such delicate texture that ~he leaned continually upon the strength of her husband, and was dependent upon his society and affection for every hour of her happi- ness. She, to whom so many feeble creatures looked up for protection, looked tip to him with a trust almost religious~ There was no living son to inherit the name and title of "' Colonel Fred." Several children had died. There remained only one daughter. The loss of chil- ~ROE13tTCK. 11 dren h~id bQen almost the sole affliction of Colonel Fairfax and his wife during their married lives* Their parental affection was now concentrated upon their daughter, Julia. She ~ about the age of twenty. She had the fair skin and browh hair of her father, with the hazel eyes of her mother. In person she rather surpassed the middle height of woman, but was not quite tall. Her form might have keen deemed too lender for perfect beauty, but its outlines were round enough for grace. Her face cannot be described feature by feature, without prodm~ing a false idea of its character. All who saw it pro- nounced it beautiful; bi~t those who saw it only once might dispute with each other what was its chief at- tribute. Such was the transparent sincerity of her countenance, that the E )ecial charm of her beauty changed with her emotions. Her customary manner was one of modest and winning gentleness.. But she often displayed the gaiety of girlhood and innocence. Every tender sentiment, every pure passion impressed itself upon her heart, and flashed its expression in her eyes as pictures are made by a glance of sunlight. Under this versatile delicacy, however,, her essential character had the firmness of high principle and almost masculine courage. Being an only child, and loving her parents with reverential devotion, she deavored to fill for them the vacant places of sons and daughters. She interested herself in all her' father's pursuits, promoting his plans and sharing his counsels. She often rode with him over the planta- tion, chatting of crops with a tongue as lively as maidens use to discuss the latest fashion of artificial flowers. By frequent association with her father in manly avocations and pleasures, she may have eon- * page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] :12 ROEBUCK. treated some -modes of thought and feeling somewhat more masculine than the native traits of her char- acter. In introducing to the reader the Fairfaxes of Rqe- buck, we should not pass over the Colonel's bachelor brother, Richard; but his loquacious habit will make him. known to all who come within the sound of his voice. He had an estate of his own, and kept up a domestic establishment upon it; but the greater part of his time was spent at Roebuck, or, in winter, at* Richmond.' He was two years younger than his brother, the, Colonel, and was a man of small stature. 9But by some f~rg&tten trick of nursery nomenclature he had been called in childhood "big brother," and so he was still sometimes playfully styled by the larger and elder Frederick. He had been educated as a physician, and entered upon the practice of his -profession under the influence of young ambition. But, after a few years, the easy independence 'of hereditary acres tempted him away from a voca- tioi~ so laborious. He was once disappointed in an affair of love, and that ordinary event, touching one of the keys of a whimsical nature, made him forswear matrimony altogether. lIe retained the' title of Doctor, and as he grew' to be an old bache~r,' he was generallyy named, with curt familiarity, Doctor Dick. His style of conversation did not repress the liberty which men were 'inclined to take with his name; for it was frequently a style of satirical banter and half- com~c extravagance, lie sometimes affected a bitter~ ness of invective that might have convicted him of extreme ill-nature, if his. conduct had not proved that - the roughness of his tongue was to his heart as a crabbed preface to a generous volume. ROEBUCK. 13 CHAPTER II. SLAVES AT nOEBUCIC. ONE morning in the spring of they year eighteen hundred and sixty-one, Colonel Fairfax, accordingg to his custom, rode out from his house to make the grand round of his plantation. We are not to aecom-. pany him with a view of' observing the scenery of the farm, or of noting the information he obtained or the orders 'he gave or the progress of cultivation. Those who would learn in detail how the agriculture of Vir. ginia was so greatly improved,-.as it ha~ been during the last quarter of a century, with immense advantage to both races who inhabit there, will find more authentic sources of information. We are to chroni- ole only a few incidents of' the colonel's morning ride that have an interest more personal and less grave than the topics of an agricultural report. Not far from the mansion stood several negro cabins in a cluster, and around them swarmed a number of young Africans, looking like bees about their hives, but idling like butterflies in the early sunshine. Rid- ing to the door of one of those cabins, the colonel dis- mounted and entered it to make a visit, which he re- peated almost daily. Within was an old negro - man lying upon a bed, from which he rose when he saw his master coining to the doors His age was evidently very great, and he reckoned it roundly at a hundred. lie wore a long white beard, which he preseiTed at II page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] U RO1~B.U OK. ROBBUCI~. the request of his master. His hair was nearly as white as wool. Rising from the bed he walked feebly with the help of a long cane to a ~tool, on which he seated himself in obedience to a gesture of the cob onel, after they had shaken hands with each other. The master stood while they held the brief conversa- tion which was so often repeated, and for which old Valentine looked forward as the leading event of his daily life. J3efore age had impaired his faculties he had been a fair though rather favol ble type of his race in Yirgin~a. It was his pride to have served three generations of the Faixfaxes of Roebuck. All the respectability of the family was appropriated to himself, but only in comparing his station with tha~t of other negroes. He yielded the place of superiority to the white race without doubt or reluctance, and as he assigned the highest rank in that race to the Fair. fax family, he and the other servants of that family- were at the top of t1~ie black ladder. Fidelity and obedience were the two prime virtues of hi~ class, according to hi~ moral code. For the rest of morab ity the masters were responsible. Reason, principle and free will would not have J~ept him in a Tight path long if left to himself, but he was capable of under- standing and. practicing such simple and direct duties as fidelity and obedience to a master. Through them he was made useful and happy, and wa~ civilized beyond the highest conception of his grandfather, who was a native African, and above the independent attainments of his race during forty centuries. The brutality and treachery of savage blood were nearly extinguished in him, and, as a docile and contented slave, he spent his life in cheerfttl labor with many merry holidays. In servitude lie. had the pleasures which his better nature craved, but not those higher enjoyments which could not be his in any condition. Among temples which all the tribes in Africa could never hav~e built, he learned the practical precepts of a religion whose sublime dogmas his ancestors could not have preserved in memory from the rising to' the setting of the sun. And now it was his boast that he had been always a faithful servant, and his master,' recognizing the claim which such servitude estab.. lished, treated the old man with the kindest 'care and with sincere respect. "How are you today, Uncle Valentine ?" he asked, when the antique African was seated. "Pretty mis'able, thanks be to de Lord, Master Fred." "What's your misery, Uncle?" "On'y waiting' for de Lord to take his servant to hesef." "Do you want to die then ?" "Never, Master Fred., Lord bless 'your dear soul, never." "How old are you, new?" "Well, you can count it up. I seed Gin'al Wash- inton a crossing ' de' Delaware when I was seven or fifteen or along thai~, and I seed de ~hlack filly dey called Flora beat Colonel Dixon's hoss Thunder, but you know ef black Dick he had rid Thunder "..-.----.. "Oh, I r~niember, Uncle. Do you get everything you want ~ Do the chaps wait on you' properly? Is your bed attended to, and your fire and everything ?" "Yes, everything, Master Fred., thank you. Dis mis'able oad nigger gits everything he wants till de Lord he do come." "Very well, make them attend t~ you. Don't for- 14 15 page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 16 ~ ROEBUCK. get, Unde Valentine, when that white beard grows a little longer I am going to have your pictui~e taken to be hung up beside my gra~dfathe~'s." "Your grandfather, he was de first Colonel Frede- rick. When he tuk me to de army i~or his body sar- vant, he rode de Engli~h hoss 2Rover, and when we come to de camp"- "Tell me about that to-morrow. Now come out here into the sunshine. Let me carry your stool for you. There-..good-bye." "Lord bless dat boy," said the old -man, as his 'master rode away, "and bless old master, too; but h&s gone afore me long ago to Abram's bosom, thank de Lord for all His marches." At a later hour, and in another part of the pianta- Lation, the Colonel saw a negro fellow jtimp up from the ground where he had been lying on his back with his face turned to ihe, sun as duly as a sun- flower. He ran towards a gate through which his master was about to pass and held it open. lie was very black. His head and heels b6th stood out rear- ward ahuost as far as his hips, and his nose lay iii ambush behind his lips. An elaborate bow and a sheepish twinkle of his eyes denoted to the Colonel that Ben was waiting the~e to ask some favor. "Well, Ben,"he said when -he came to the gate, "what do you want?" "Nuffin, Master." "You do wa~t something; why can't you t~1l the truth.?'? - "Dat's it, Master," replied Ben with a grin, show- ing more red than white, "no nigger don't tell truth; on'y you's found Ben out, and you knoWs he lies." Ben giggled as if he relished his own satire, or would laugh hi8 master into favorable humor. RO]~BUCK. 17 "What do you want, Ben ?" "I bin a thinking , Master, maybe you'd like to soil this 'ere lazy, lyin' nigger." "Sell you! Do you want to be sold ?" "Yes, Master. I can't keep from lyin', an' I ain't good enough for you." "That's not your reason; but what master have you chosen ?" ." Dar's Squire Anderson, maybe he mout buy me, 'case he don't know much about me ?" "Tell me, Ben, why you wish to be sold? Are you, worked too hard t Are you not well treated? Has the oVerseer done anything to you ?" "No, Master, de God's truth is, it's jis my wife." "You want to get rid of Nancy?" "Dat's a fao'." "Why ?" "'Case she's done got religion; and I can't bide her no how." "When did she get religion, Ben ?" "She done voine through last Sunday night." "Religion should make her a better wife." "No, Master, beg your pardon, religion ain't good for nigger w men. She goes praying' and singin~and begin' among them religious fellers, aud when she comes home from de prayer-meetin's she goes a rollin' on de floor and kickin' up her heels, and~w~n't come to bed all night. She never gives me a good word no more, on'y poor sinner, poor sinner." "And what have you done ?" "I. done switch her two, three times, but de reli- gion ain't switched out of her yit. I can't stand it, Master, indeed I can't. 'l's ~feard I'll drow~i my~e'f, and you'll lose dis nigger ef you don't sell me." page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 18 ROnPUCIt. "You have your eye on another woman at Squire Anderson's." "Lord, Master, I have never spoke. to hi~ Jinfly, but once." "17 imderstand you, Ben. You are tired of one wife and want another. You are married to Nancy, and have two children. You must stay with her. You make religion an excuse to quarrel with her. You must treat her as a good husband ought, and she shall behave herself as a good wife. If you switch her again I'll direct the overseer to switch you. Go to* your work.' ]3egone !" Another police case came 'before the Colonel the same cay, that may be worth reporting, as the ~ub ~ject of it will appear~again in this narrative. On this, occasion he came Ainning up from a ravine to inter~ cept his master as he rode along. He was a tall feb l~w with a powerful frame and abullet-head. On his head he wore nothing but' a circular fringe of rav~ elled straw which had been the rim, of a hat. Even this 'he. doffed as he approached his, master. What's the matter, Jubs V' "1'sjis gwine to find you, Master." "Where do you come from flow ?" "Fromde, bush, Master, dat's d~ trulh." "Jiow long )~aye you been in the bush 1" "Mighty nigh. on to three days." "Why did you run away, Juba ~" "'Case de overseer was gwine to whip me." "Didn't you deserve a whipping ~" "I reckon I did, Master, but I don't like to be whipped by dat overseer n~.o how. He's come o~' a mighty mean family of poor white "folks.aud he don't know JIQW 2t0 treat ~ggers." ~OEh1UcK. 10 "You are impudent, Julia. Don't you think you ought to be whipped now ~" "Sartin I ought. But now, Master, would you jis please to switch me yourse'f......jis 'dis Once, Master." "No, Julia; go, ask the overseer to come here." He obeyed and soon returned with the overseer, a man not so tall as Julia, but of stout, athletic frame.' * "Mr. Higgs," said 'the 'colonel, "Julia confesses that he deserves to be punished and I wish him to know that you have my special authority and. request to punish him now. Please attend to his case: wJ~en you have time." "Now, Master, please whip me course'~ do; I'll fetch de switches." Juba ran away toward a wood and the colonel sup.. posed he was taking to the bush again. But he was soon seen returning with an honest,~ bundle of switches in his hand. Whilehe was absent, the oLvej,.. seer said: "Colonel Fairfax, it seems, useless 'to whip Juba~ He is a strange fellow. I have had a great 'deal of trouble 'i~ith him, and have tried every way I 'could think of to manage him. He is a capitall hand to work when he 'is Lunor, but he paysf~ no respect to my authority. He is very p~oud of his strength, and 'sometimes looks at ~me as if he was thinking that he is a bdter man than I am. One more plan to bring him to subjection has occurred to me, 'and, if you. ~have no objection, I will try it on him." "What is it ~" "For me l~o. flght him on equal terms and whip him. That wilt take the conceit out~ofbj~ and make him respect me." page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] 20 IIOE]3UCIC. -i "That will never do, Mr. Higgs." "I believe nothing else' will do with Juba." "If there were -no other objection, he might beat you.~, "Then you will have to get another overseer. I am willing to take the risk, if you consent. I was once active and had some skill at boxing. I am older now and out of practice. But I'll risk it." The colonel, shook his head doubtfully at this novel proposition, but Juba crime up and he merely said, "go with the overseer" as he rode away. "Now, Juba," said Higgs, "lay down the switches. You wiW need your fists. You must fight me. I give you a white man's chance. It's a fair fight." "Fa'r fight ~ White man's chance '~ Sure enough s?" "Yes, that's what I say.'~ "Whoop 1" shouted Juba so loud that he was heard by some of his fellow-servants in a neighbor- ing field, and, leaning on their hoes, they became spectators of the scene. "Get ready, Juba." "l's always ready for a fa~r fight." "'Come-on, then." Juba was not slow to act upon this hint. He made a lunge with his great maul of a fist a~ the overseer's face, and would have flattened his features if the blow had not -been dexterously parried. Juba opened his eyes with wonder to see that so much force had done no mischief. He repeated the effort several times with little variation and with no better ~uccess. Then the overseer in turn began tp plant his plows. lie struck Juba on the head-his least vulnerable part- and Juba fell flat on the grass. He rose and -came to the scratch again, but almost instantly he zneasured ROEBU~CK. 21 his length upon the ground. He took a third fall, but then, when he rose, he turned his back upon his adversary and took to his heels. He did not stop until he joined the laborers in the adjoining field. He there seized a hoe and went to work without saying a word. After a long time he looked round and said with a rueful grin: "Dat ain't such a mean overseer after all; I reckon his folks In the is pretty decent for poor white folks." meantime Colonel Fairfaic passed into a field where a dozen slaves were at work under the lead of one of their own class, who acted as headman of the gang. He was a co~emporary of the cok~nel, and they had played together, -and sometimes fought too, irhen they were boys. As he remained a boy all his life, and would have protracted also the boyhood of his master, he continued to call him "Master Fred." His nose was like a pack-saddle. He was short, and though not corpulent, his head, face, body and limbs were afl round, and his plump little figure might have been rolled about like a ball. He was called Joe. With the bland serenity of ancient and undisputed authority, he led a bevy of sleek, well-fed negroes, who whistled or sung at their labor, quite satisfied with their prospective share of the products of the plantation. When the colonel approached Joe, took off his hat and saluted him with a grave bow, saying, "yo'ur servant, Master Fred." "How goes it, Joe, and how do you get on with the work to-day ?" "Mighty well, sir; de boys is working' up lively to- day, lively, Master Fred. But I bin thinking , sir, maybe you'd allow old Joe to presss his 'pinion on dis 'ere corn-plantin' subjee'." I I page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] 22 ROEBUCK. "Certainly, Joe, I would like to hear your opinion." "Den, Master Fred, my 'pinion 'is dat dis 'e~'e way of planting' corn, what the overseer is gwine to make us plant corn, is a new way, and it ain't the way the Fairfaxes always planted corn, and my 'pinion is, sir, we won't git no crap." "Then, Joe," replied his master, laughing, "you think we ought to plant corn still just a~ the Fair- faxes did 'when you were a chap 'P' "Well, my 'pinion is, Master Fred, dat a family as old as ourn oughtn't to take up with these new ways of the upstarts-no offence to the overseer, sir." "The Fairfaxes," said the colonel, laughing again, "were always a very good family, Joe, since you and I knew them, and in the ways of honor and duty we cannot do better than follow their examples. But as to planting, perhaps we may learn something by ex- perience which they' did not know. The fact is, this new way is one of my own, Joe." "Oh, dat's another thing,. Master Fred. You's one of the same old Fairfaxes yours&f, and you has a right to think for yourself and for your folks too. I's got no 'pinion on dat subjee' of it's your subject , sir." The colonel was about to ride away, when Joe sig- nified by a respectful gesture that he had something more to say. "What else, Joe ~" he asked. "One of my gang-it's roundhead Bill-says he's got~two children over his patch, Master Fred, and he wants, ef you please, to git his patch made up to his family." "Is tl~at so, Bill ?" 23 "Yes, Master, I done got two 'sponsibiities Since you give dat patch, and I most 'spectin' another." "Very well, Bill; your patch shall be enlarged to fit your responsibilities~~ "Thank you, Master," said roundhead Bill, "Bill is a mighty good boy, Master Fred," added I-Ieadman Joe; "he's worth twelve hundred dollars dis blessed day; dat is, ef you was a gentleman would sell a servant while he behaves hese'f." When lie had moved away, the colonel saW a young lady riding at a canter across th~e fields towards him on a white horse of high spirit and beautiful form. She was* followed by a gentleman who, in turn, was followed by a servant. "There," said the colonel to hirnselg "comes Julia, worrying her Uncle Dick with a gallop over plowed ground." He gazed at her with affectionate pride, and his cheertlil face beamed with a smile. "What are you after, brother Dick ?" he exclaimed, as they drew fear. "After Qolonel Julia, of course. She would niake a cavalry raid on the village this morning, and I had to follow my colonel." It was one of his whims to caU her coloneL,', as the destined heir of an estate which should always have a Colonel Frederick for its proprietor, 'according to the citstomary law of descent in the family. In de- f~i~iIt of a Colonel Frederick, he dubbed the niece ~honi lie admired and loved, "Colonel Julia." "Papa," she said, "your big brother and I have COIui~ to take you home. We think you have done work enough while we wore at play. Unele Dick says ho intends to prea~,Ix up a new abolition society for the eiualleipation of masters." page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] E flU C K. "Certainly," the doctor added, "the masters are the real objects of compassion in this peculiar institu- tion f oum. My heart bleeds for them. Behold me, an apostle of emancipatiOn, and be the first of the wretches I am to rescue." "What, brother Dick," said the colouel, ' have you done with your old theory that the negroes have the natural right to~ be slaves and therefore to have masters, servitude being necessary, as you have often affirmed, for their pre~ervatiOn and happiness accord- ing to the constitution of nature ?" "I have thrown up the constitution of nature and. taken to abQlltionist tracts. But I improve on the plan of the abolitionists. I am convinced that the emancipatioiK'Of masters is the, shortest way to the grand resul~L" "Pray, ~hat is to be this grand result ?" "The extinction of the negro race on this con~ tinent." "That is desirable, is it ?" said the colonel, laugh- ing. "Root out the blacks and you know we shall have a more intelligent and profitable set of laborers." "But humanity, my big brother 1" "Nonsense, my little brother! Humanity was in last year's almanac. It is out of date. Abolition takes its place this year. Free the negroes! Perish mankind Come, Julia, you shall turn lecturer. What will a humanitarian society~l.uimaiiitarial1. mark you, not humane-be worth unless it turns the world topsy-turvy and makes women perform the functions of men ?" ~~Will you emancipate me without my wife ?" asked the Colonel. "She is a greater slave to our 24 flOE1~UGI~. dep~idehts than I am. ~See, there she goes now to~ that ~cabin, probably to look after a sick child or to render sbme other service to her numerous family." "No; it is useless to offer freedom to women. They all rush into matrimony, the most galling kind of bondage. Let them alone." "Begone, you heathen," said Julia, flourishing her riding-switch. "Yes, I am a heathen and a republican~I confess all my sins at once. Ostentatious confession is a trick of the Pharisees whom I am going to imitate. It is a proclamation ~f ht~mility-.....a proud virtue.". "Ah, brother Dick, you jest, but these ~roes are the po6r whom we have always ~with us." "Unless they run away." "Well, if they run away from their homes we must pity their folly. And here comes Dainty Dave. What place will there be for hi scheme ?" m in your new "A fellow you have ruined and made a fool of by discharging him from all labor because once upon a time "..-.. "He saved my dear daughter's life by an act of devoted courage when our old house was burnt." "Be it so. Here he c6me~. riding his fat mule and dressed fantastically, as usuaL Where are you going, Dave?" Before answering Dave lifted his high-crowned hat from his head and thi'ee times bowed profoundly over the mule's neck, saying, servantt, Mast~r; sar- vant, Miss Julia; sarvant, Master i~ick." Straighten~ ing himself up, he gravely added: "I'm gwine to be wazinated, sir." "Vaccinated? Are you afraid of taking aniall. S page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] I 26 ROEBtOK. ~' ~o, Master Pick, but dere is a dirty nigger ~n dis 'plantation wat's got do itch. I reckon, ef 4e smalUpox is do killingest temperr of dem two, w'at will lieep off do small-pox will keep off de itch." "You draw conclusiOnS, Dave, with the force of a a mule. You ought to be a doctor." "Same as you, Master Dick ?" said Dave with an impudent leer in his eyes, sheltered by the, projecting gravity of his lips. The doctor rode at him ~jth a threatening gesture and Dave rapidly receded from the scene. "Yes, Julia,'~ said the doctor, "there's your own maid, Grace, you make a fool of her too with your indulgence and. your presents and finery and all that." "But, Uncle Dick, she loves me so truly and then we were play-mates in childhood, you know. She is really a good girl and altogether devoted to me." "Fudge! She will run away the first time she has a chance-for that I'll wager my horse against your ~Wit~h." "Never, Uncle Dick." "You will* find there is a greaL deal of humafl ~iiatiie in these negroes when they axe free to show "What do you think of that, Caleb ?" said Julia, turning towards the servant who followed Doctor Fairfax, and who now sat in stately fashion on his horse near them. lie was dressed quite foppishly, * though his master was rather slovenly. Caleb pro- nounced his opinions "Miss Julia, when extremes meet, the ebullition of human nature explodes in a cataclasm of the ele- ments." "There, now," exclaimed the doctor, "Caleb gives opinions tI~at cannot be reft~t~d, becal4e they caw~Ot ROEl3tTci~. 27 be understood. There is matter in his words, no doubt, if we had the wit to find it. There is a fellow, Colonel Julia, who has served me, man and boy, more than forty years, and in all that time he has not ut- tered an intelligible sentence or failed of a single duty. Tie is the best servant I ever saw." Caleb, accepting the praise as customary ~in~1 w1~'. replied to the doctor. "Master, if you would investio'ate the collateral in. heritance of my signification, you would see that virtue is the better half of wisdom." "Why, where did you filch that apothegm? IL did t~ot know that I ever entertained a sententious philo~ sopher, though gentlemen do sit at my table some- times who supply you with sesquipedalian phrases. Now, Julia,' there is a long word that he will lug in the next time he discourses to the servants." A' Pardon, Iiia~er; I never talk the high English to the niggers. Their craniums is so transfigured by the burnished livery of the burning sun that they cannot prefigure the sentiments." "Come away, Julia; we shall need an ark to save us from a. deluge of words if we remain here." "Will you go with us, papa ?" "Not yet'; I will follow you in a short time." "Remember, brother, Fred ! No more talk of hu- manity in relation to youx betters. The negro is not only a man and a brother, but the elder brother of the human family. I am sure," he muttered. as he i ode off, "nature learned on the negro, before she made the white man, and a black botch she made of her first experiment.......a mere mud-pie." "Come, Arab," said Julia, touching her horse, and he galloped away, Doctor Dick following at his heels. page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] ROEBU CK. 2 CHAPTER III. vs ITOUS ATs UraOm BUeK. * FoM he ounryroad or highway a broad avenueo hnof atmie inontyh led up to a gate below the bluff inlfron ofl inen mansion of Roebuck. -On each sdofthe avenue was a row of lombardy poplars-- tall, ointd steele-like frees, but already stricken at tolp ith that early decay which afflicts those aspiring frtesof the last generation. When Julia touched Aavorith her switch two young gentlemen were . meeting at the entrance of the avenue. " Good morning, Mr. Pahnar.". "Goo moringMr. Fitzhugh." At tGoesad moment they turned the heads of their Atorses ade together between the poPlars. At hrsetheydtalked of the weather, their horses and other tirttey trval matters, and, while their conversation ite unortant, there will be time to describe them. Theynimre about the same age, of twenty-six or Thsevey andwere both handsome and tall; but Fit- even, was not quite as tall as his companion ;. the for- mnrhad dark hair, eyes and complexion, and those of' thmter wer liht. The dress of Palmer was faxsh- ioae land werecise;I that of Fitzhugh genteel but nglent Ashorsemanship is 'the passion of all clein Virginia, but especially of gentlemen, they were boh well mounted.- The horse of the dark- haired rider was black,. of moderate size and evidently 41 f II ~ol~BU Cii' 28 29 of fine blood, while he of the fair complexion rode a .stouter animal of chesnut color. Palmer's features were exactly regular and without an apparent blemish, except that his light blue eyes displayed rather too much white. They expressed no decided character, and even the doubtful negation of expression might signify either apathy or prudence, and his face might be a mask or a mirror. That of Fitzhugh was less rgular and more flexible in feature and it was more responsive to mind and heart. Its Jhabitual express sion was one of dreamy idleness. But it caught the change of every passing influence so readily that a stranger might have suspected his character of levity if another nature more profound had not been indi- cated by the breadth of his forehead, the depth of the eyes and therm lines of the .mouth. "There goes Miss Fairfax towards the house," said' Paler "And her uncle with her," added Fitzhugh. " But he shall not assist her to alight. I[intend to perform that service myself. " If you are at the house before me, you may." " Agreed." " Show him youi heels, Sultan," said Fitzhugh, and, at a touch of The cane, his horse bounded away. Palmer also, humoring the banter, put . spurs to the chestnut. If they were seen ~it all by Julia and her uncle, they were soon out of sight as they approached the bluff. For a short race there was not much differ- ence in speed between. the horses, but the black held the start he had taken. .As no personwas seen' at* the gate,it appeard that the necessity of stopping to open it would end the race and set the riders even. But from each side of the gate ran a stone wall or page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 80 ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. fence, about four feet high. Fitzhugh, swerving his horse from the middle of the road to the sward at the side, came up t6 the fence andSultan cleared it at a ~leap. Palmer declined to follow, and his companion halting, turned and waved his hand with a good-. humored laugh. He waited for Palmer to pass through the gate and then they rode together up the bluff. Miss Fairfax had already dismounted and was not to be seen. The gentlemen, giving their bridles to a servant, entered the house. They had not sat long when the young lady made her appearance. For some niinutes the cost of the conversation was defrayed almost exclusively by herself. The thoughts of her visitors were so engrossed with admiration of her beauty that they talked but little. They had often seen her before. Fitzhugh had known her from her infancy. His family and hers had long been neigh- bors and intimate friends. The acquaintance between her and Palmer was ~of some years' standing, though it was little more than formal. Neither of the gin- tlemen professed a warmer feeling for her than friend- ship; but, in her presence, they felt the fascination of a kind of beauty alWays new and surprising. At length they found their tongues and for half an hour the conyersatiOfl flowed fluently enough. They talked of neighborhood news, recent publications, new music and a variety of other topics of transient interest. Julia had the pleasing talent of her sex, and her con~ versation, like her dress and manners, had the unobtru- sive charm of simple elegance. Not fronv any parade of.l~arning or accomplishments could it be discovered that her education had been as complete as wealth could procure for her.. She had received also that better education which girls acquired in those happy 31 homes in Virginia (happy now no more!) where gem- tie manners were framed to. modesty and purity, and where characters were attempered to the duties of life. Palmer, in conversation, was sensible but for- mal. lit was apparent that his moderate faculties had been carefully cultivated in schools,. He was versed in the fashions and affected the manners of cities. His imag~ation was dull and he lacked the versatile and various ease of an agreeable talker. . In that re- spect ho was excelled by Fitzhugh when he was in his lighter mood and was excited by congenial com- pany. Julia, being requested to sing, sat at the piano and sung an Italian song with brilliant operatic music, at the desire of Palmei~, whose musical task had re- ceived as elaborate culture as his intellect; and then she sufig an English b~lad to gratify Fitzhugh, who was an enthusiastic lover of melody, but without much musical science. Her skill satisfied the judg- ment of the critic, and her sweet voice thrilled the nerves of the enthusiast. One of the gentlemen then requested her to sing something of her owi~selection. "Then hearken," she said, "for I am going to sing you a song with a moral~-a homely little son~g that was sent to me the other day." Whether she took it up by accident, or chose to amuse herself with the part of a playful moralist, or was influenced by some thought of Fitzhugh, who was settling into an atti- tude of indolent di'eaiuing, may have been uncertain to herself~ She esteemed Hugh Fitzhugh very highly, and treated him with as much. familiarity as life-long, friendship might Warrant . between young persons of different sexes. She shared the regret of his friends that, after leaving the University with a k page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] f~\) 82 ROEBUCK. brilliant reputation, and traveling in Europe a year or two, he seemed to have given himself up to list- less id1en~ss. Not even the estate which he inherited, and on y~hich he resided with his widowed mother, appeared to engage his serious attention. 5ulia often heard her father express a fear that the ..bright pro- mise whith his young friend Hugh had given would be disappointed through~1, mere indolence and a love of idle pleasur~S. Whether she remembered this or not at the moment, she sung her song "with a moral "- THE SONG OF THE BEE. In sipping sweets and kissing flowers The nimble-winged bee From morn till night beguiles the hours-~ And who so blithe as he?. 0, might we pass this life of ours As gaily as the bee! ]~rom every flower, with ~very kiss, A treasure sucks the bee, ~or wastes an hour in idle bliss- And who so rich as he? Thy roamin~ revels come 'to this- To fill thy hive, 0 bee. So love and song, and all delights That clear the spirit free, May sweeten toilsome days and nights That store the hive for thee; But life i~ naught if pleasure blights Its fruit-for man or bee. I~OE13UOK. 3 gg That song, I am 8ure, was Suno' marked Fitzhugh. me," re- "Does it please you ?" asked ~iiss Fairfax. "The moral, not the music, was meant for me.'~ "Do you suspect me, then, of preaching to y~u or at you?" "Perhaps it may turn out a song, Perhaps turn out a sermon." ~ And why do y~ou take it as a serihon rather than as a song ?" "I will think of it," he said, musingly. "Do, Mr. Fitzhugh," she replied, in a tone which seemed at once to apologize for 1~he candor of her Sermon, and to insinuate au interest in his career. "I wish so fUr a preacher would level a sermoti at me,' said Alfred Palmer. "If I am suspected of such presumption I must nevef transgress again, Mr. Palmer~ flut here comes I~pa-and Uncle Dick with him, too. Between them they shall teach you all wisdom, whether the amiable or the satirical." Colonel Fairfax n3et the young gentlemen wit~h a hearty greeting, and the doctor said, "Brother Fred and I have just had a pretty quarrel about the com- parative merits of your horses; gentlemen; take care that we don't finish it over you." "You must not call it a quarrel," said the colonel. "Well, a discussion..the milder synonym." "I would like to show the gentlemen a horse of' mine ;" and the colonel was about to dilate' upon horseflesh, for it was one of his vanities, and the number of fin~e horses on the plant~ti~n formed one 2* I. page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 34 ROEBUCK. exception to the judicious economy of his manage-. ment. But he checked himself, and, gliding with. easy urbanity to a more appropriate subject, he led th~ way in an animated conversation, to which all present contributed. Julia, who always showed most vivacity in the presence of her amiable and cheerful father, talked with sparkling gaiety; the guests imi- tated her vivacity, and Doctor Dick let off' som3 squibs at intervals. Colonel Fairfax was fond of the society of young people, and they enjoyed his frank, entertaining and intelligent conversation. The young men of his acquaintance loved him, and admired his~ character. hugh Fitzhugh had been accustomedd. from boyhood to look upon him as his best friend, almost as a guardian. His mother, left a widow with no other child when Hugh was very young, was his legal guardian, but Colonel Fairfax was her constant adviser. Albert Palmer was born in New England, and, though he had lived a great part of his life in Virginia, had no intimate acquaintance with the Lam-. ily at Roebuck. At length the current of conversation was interrupt-. ed by Doctor Fairfax, who remarked abruptly, "that is a Yankee horse you ride, Mr. Palmer-a Yankee Morgan." "You would not, imply," said Julia, "that he is the worse for a Northern origin, Uncle ]Mck.". "By no means; I like the Yankee-bred Morgans." But the irritation of sectional controversy had made men sensitive to every comparison between the North and the South, and the most inoffensive allusions 'would sometimes rub the raw and. provoke resent- ment. Palmer had certain reasons for being more sensitive than others when lie suspected that a slight ftOBBUCX. 35 was east upon his Northern birth, and the abrupt manner of the doctor, which. startled even Julia, had irritated him. 'He said with asperity: "you are mis- taken, sir. I am a true Southerner. I use nothing from Yankeedom that I can obtain in the South. In fact," he added with a rising voice Yankees." , I despise the There was silence, for all present were shocked and embarrassed. Virginians cherish the love of native- land with romantic fidelity. They could tolerate, in, stranger the utmost devotion to the country of his birth, though it might be the country they most dis- liked. They could 'not comprehend the contempt expressed by Palmer for the land of his nativity and the people of his blood. . After an awkward pause the doctor, who delighted to abuse the "Yankees," iroke the silence. "Wcil, since the Yankees have no friends here, I ~ will air my opinions of them." "Come, Uncle iDick,.be charitable. We know you keep the North as a woman keeps. a pin-cushion, to stick pins in." "Acer te1igi~, Colonel Julia, which, being inter.. ~reted, signifies that you are as sharp as one of your needles this morning. But I'll.balk your penetration this time. I shall use none but a blunt instrument-...-. a mere maul. I shall simply take the liberty of saying that the Yankees are the meanest, the most ~o~ant, the most hypocritical, the most meddlesome and the most corrupt branch of ~the human fa~mily....4f I must acknowledge them as men and brothers." "0 fle, Uncle Dick, 'they are a religious people." "Their religion is fox-fire, a superficial light from rotteuness-.-...thefr morals a science of fraud. Their page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 80 ROEBUCK~ flO]~BUOIC. $7 credo is a long face on Sunday and a long purse on week days. Their w~er of baptism is water of pe- trifaction, turning their hearts .t~ stone. Look at those three thousand preachers who petitioned Con- gre~s recently-their petition was a howl of hate against the South. When they stretch out their holy hands over this half of the country, their benedictions are bans and their very halleluiah is a doxology of devils. ' They have almost canonized the bones of old 'John Brown, a robber and assassin, because they were Southern women and children whQin he would have incited negroes to murder in their beds. Like priests, lite people. The better class of preachers at the North are ransacking' them Apocalypse to prove that.~ the end of the world 'is at hand, and they confirm their predictions by citing the unparalleled, depravity of mankind-~a depravity which they actually see at their own doors, though it is not seen in the South." "But, brother Dick," interrupted the colonel, "those are only their fanatics whom you describe. '~ They drown the voices of all others. And then Yankee politics-~-a corrupt despotism o demagogues -professing but one 'principle, the rule "of a nThjority, and practicing but one, public plunder. Fanaticism, however,' will soon dominate, politics. Already most of the religious~ societies there are political clubs. Priests are sure to be the tyrants of a land where' pure religion does not pre~rail." "The spirit of caricature runs away with my big brother to-day," said Colonel2~airf~x, laughing. "Caricature! What I say is as true as daguerreo- type." "And not more life-like, I dare say, Uncle Dick." "Julie, a good girl like you cannot imagine such evils ns pollute Northern society. Their cities are sinks, their towns ape their cities and they poison the country. They abound with haunts where men have exerted their ingenuity in perfecting vice as they have elsewhere in improving machinery. What is their society-what must it be from its structure, even aside from religion and politics ~ A confused popu- lace struggling for wealth or life~-a perpetual prize- fight, with millions, in the ring-..a mob without ge~- Hold, there, brother ])ick, you won't say there. are no gentlemen in. the North," cried the colonel, laughing at the doctor's notions. "Gentlemen.-..yes, many of them, as there are many good Christians. But there is no class of gen~ try with a recognized position and influence. Here, you know, the gentry, rich a poor; without the support of unequal laws, exert a direct and legitimate influence upon the movements of society with the open approbation of the people, and with open re- spon~ibi1ity, under the correction of' public opinion. 'There, gentry is ostracised. Wealth, everywhere a power, rules there by indirection an4 eorrtiption. It buys the press. It subsidizes the demagogues. It the pulpit. It bribes lic. When coi'i'upts all leaders of the pub- fanaticism is quiet, the force that rules ~ the Ya~ikees is money and a mob. In fact, there can be no gentry, where nothing is stable, and gold is the standard of aIl~ worth. Gentry is the peculiar' flower of an old agricultural community, Where nature shines on agriculture. fl~ow" . "Pardon me, Uncle Dick, you ar~ making a speech." "Heaven for~fend, Colonel Julia; if I ge~ to p page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 1. 38 flOEBIJOK, speech-making, I shall become as great a bore as a Yankee professor, a superficial coxcogib who lectures always, about everything and~-.nothing." "Brea~e a while, Uncle Dick. Papa, I have not told. you that I saw Mr. Ambler this morning, and. invited him to dine with us to-day. The oarxiage has bech sent for him, and he should be here soon." "I am glad of it, daughter. Our venerable pastor is always a welcome guest. You must remain and dine with him, gentlenien. Do not refuse. You know the good. old. clergyman, and. you must enjoy his society." Fitzhugh accepted the invitation, but Palmer, with a polite apology, declined. it, and took his leave. When the conversation was resumed, Fitzhugh said..-.. "It gratifies me to infer, Doctor Fairf~x, that you think the time has arri~red when we should. dissolve our political connection with the North." "What t follow~ South Cawolina in secessioTh 1" "Certainly." "No?" "Never." "You amaze me. Would. you prolong our asso~ ciation with such communities as you have just d& "I have not read in any book of surgery that to cn~ off the head is a safe cure for tooth-ache." "Do you think, then, that to out off the North i~ to cut off the head. of the 5outh ?" "No; you are too literal in spelling a metaphor. Thit secessiOfl will be fatal to the Southern States. The North will su1~jugatO them, and then where will be your remedy ?" 0 B U C K. 89 "How can such a people, fighting for independ- ence, be conquered? They would be exterminated first. See how their patriotic zeal already burns with martial fire. Many men pant for war with the North." 'I have heard such men talk. They will serve as light-wood to kindle a revolution, bu~ we shall need more durable fuel to keep it up. The South is not 7 f~inatical, or malignant, or corrupt like the North, but, what is worse in view of such a conflict, it is weak. It is weak just where many imagine it is strong. Besides the ~hvious disparity of numbers and mate.. rial between the North and South, consider that you would link Virginia with States that must fail her in a long and exhau'~tive war. One of them h~s a gentry and no people; another, a people and no gen- try, and a third, neither people nor gentry-~neither body nor spirit. The very vices of the Yankees will contribute~to their cruel success in such an enter- prise as the conquest and plunder of the South. ~ Think you I wo~mld provoke a horde of Northern bar.. barians to overrun Virginia with fire and sword ?" "Shall we, then, submit to oppression through fear? The Northern States,, as you have descrlli~d them, are unfit associates of a Commonwealth like Virginia. They have repeatedly nullified the laws, and broken the Federal compact in points essential to our security. Ey a perversion of constitutional forms they have seized the common government with an avowed. design of wresting its tremendous powers to their aggrandizement and our oppression. The wrongs they have perpetrated would justify wai~- much more simple separation. The danger that we shall lose all the rights of our States if we acquiesce page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 ROEBUCK. in their aggressions is manifest and imminent.' There appears to be no way of escape from it, but by seces- sion. The right of secession is clear. The right of self-government is inalienable. By 'seceding, we shall give no just cause of war. I hope war will not come. If it should come, I 'believe the South will not be conquered. But, whatever may be the pos~ sible event, it is better in such a cause to invoke the justice of the E~od of Battles, than tamely to await our inevitable doom in the Union." Fitzhugh had risen, and. while he' spoke his eyes beamed. with enthusiasm, and his rich, mellow voice, swelled into a tone rather too oratorical for private conversation. Suddenly becoming conscious of this, he paused and turning to Julia said-" pardon me, Miss Julia, I am making a speech." "It is easy to pardon the warm expression of patri- otic feeling," she replied. "Ah, Hugh," observed Colonel Fairfax, "you agi- tate a perilous question, that requires for its solution eminent wisdom and~sobriety of judgment. A young gentleman of your spirTh and principles naturally feels indignant at the wrongs and insults which our States have suffered from a portion of the Northern people, and alarmed at the danger which threatens us from that quarter. The anrnsing caricatures of Northern society which have' been sketched by my brother are not withoi4 a partial resemblance to truth. 'I do uot doubt the ri~tft of secession, and I regard it' as the only effectual check 'upon the Federal govern- ment whenever it shall become-.--as all ~governments are liable to become-dangerous to 'liberty. l3ut this is not our whole case. Is it necessary 6r wise to secede now? Will secession cure the ills we suffer or ROEBUCK, 41 avert the dangers we fear? Is there no remedy within the Union? Shall we relinquish all the advantages of the Union without further efforts to preserve it while .saving also our rights, honor and security? The Union is very dear to me. I have been taught to lov.e it from my cradle upward. As Virginians, we should cherish it as especially the work of our fathers and the monu- ment of their glory. Secession may not bring war but war is probable. Subjugation may follow with its train of' indescribable horrors. War at best-.-ci'vil war above all-.is terrible. Let us not be rash. Let us confide a little longer in the returning reason of our Northern brethren. Let us look an'd wait for some milder remedy than secession. Let us, ~f pos- sible, preserve this great country entire and not afflict mankind with the destruction of our Union." "Ought Virginia, then,?' inquired Hugh Pitzhugh, "from timidfty or sentimental recollections to lag behind her sister States in the assertion of right.-.in a contest for independence and freedom ?" "Prudence, my dear sir, is not dishonorable; neither is reluctance to abandoii a system which has - produced vast benefits. I have no fear that our ven- erable Commonx~realth will ever be dishonored by any act of her own. If she shoiild-...as I trust she may~ restore to the Union the seven States which have seceded, and, at the same time, secure the rights of a11 for the future, that will be a work worthy of her ancient renown." "But will tiie fierce passions of the North permit it to be done ?" "Forbearance, statesmanship, and patient, persever- ing effort must prove whether it is possible. At all events, I shudder at the thought of breaking up the page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] 42 ROEBUC1~. Union until every honorable experiment for its pre- servation has been tried in vain." "But suppose, Colonel Fairfax, that while. Virginia is endeavoring to restore the integrity of the Union, the Federal government should attempt to reduce the seceding States .to obedience by force ~ "Then we must fight. An attempt to subjugate* those States by arms after what has happened will I annul all claims of the Federal government upon the support of any Virginian or any friend of Republican liberty. I4iberty cannot survive a triumph of Fede- ral force in such a contest. No State can be neutral. If the North constrains Virginia to fight for or against the South, she must fight fQr the South at every haz- ard. Then secession will become a secondary ques- tion. War will be the first. We cannot aid in the subjugation of our sister States." fCOEIIUCK 43 CHAPTER IV. TABLE~TALK AT ROEBUCK. THE carriage returned, bringing the Rev. Charles Ambler. lie. was nearly fourscore years~f age. His hair was white~ and his appearance venerable, but his foi~m was erect and his step firm. His keen grey eyes, dimmed but not bleared by age, his aquiline nose and his si~piare chin expressed decision of char- acter, and saved his mild demeanor from a. charge of apathetic dullness. In early life he was a successful lawyer. Then he served as a captain of volunteers in the 1a~t war with EngJand. Afterwards, from con- scientious motiV~s, he became a student of divinity, and, in due time, a minister of the gospel. For more than forty years his life as a clergyman was one of apostolic poverty, of active usefLil~,e~ and modest godliness. He shunned the san6~imonious affecta- tions by which some preachers advertise themselves as ready~made saints. His goodness became known by its fruits. Soon after he had been received with respectful stationn by Colonel Fairfax, and the other persons present h~d exchanged greetings with him, Mrs. Fairfax joined the company. After expressing to the clergyman her pleasure at his visit, she said- "Julia tells me that you would hardly leave your gar- den to dine with us." "I confess, my dear madam," he replied,. "I was page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] 44 ROEBUCK.. a inclined to linger among my plants and flower-beds this fine spring day if I could have resisted the fair Julia. But, you know, from the beginning the woman has had a knack of turning the man out of the garden." "When I tempted you with mamma's dinner," said Julia, '4 felt sure that you were well acquainted with the wa~ back to Paradise." "I see," said the doctor, "'it is now as it was ~of old-the man lays the blame on the woman." "And the story runs," replied Mr. 'Ambler, laugh~ ing, "that you, doctor, are more impartial, and lay blame on everybody." "My big brother was fairly hit then," said the colonel. "What! Have I the character of a common scold ~ I willreform forthwith, under the rebuke of my pastor." "Nay, brother Dick," said Mrs. Fairfax, "that character is one which your gallant sex assigns to ours exclusively." "But that, I maintain, is a slander," cried Hugh Fitzhugh. "You shall be the favored champion of dames and damsels," said Julia. "When I have learned the lesson of the bee ?" "Forgive me; I did not think the bee could leave a sting. I see to-day that you anticipate stirring times, and your soul is already stirred." "I would notbe idle when my native State is in danger." After some further conversation dinner was an- ~ bounced. The good cheer and generous hospitality of Virginians are proverbial. Of course, they were ROEI3IYOIC. 45 not dishonored by the Fairfaxes of Roebuck. The table exhibited the tempting abundance common to the country, and a costly elegance peculiar ~to the rich. Colonel Fairfax was an observer of all gene- rous usages, and considered the honor of his family engaged to excel in hospitality. He valued the ~ ver upon his table chiefly because the greater part of it had been upon the tables of his ancestors. He was himself temperate in all things, but he dined with a healthy. appetite, stimulated by active employment, and he took his wine, not exclusively for the stomach's sake; but to make glad the heart. So far was he from moroseness, that he thought pleasure to be the playmate of virtue, though excess is the hand- maid of vice. When Iho vi~tTh cea~zd t~ hold the first place in the attention of the company, and conversation be- gan to range, a remark of Mrs. Fairfax gave occasion to some reflections of Mr. Ambler upon the social condition, of Virginia. "I believe," he said, "there. is not a happier or better community. Nature has been bountiful to our people, but not prodigal; re- warding industry, but not dispensing with exertion; bestowing health, ~nd requiring vigor. Fortunate circumstances make agriculture our chief occupation, but also render commerce and the arts profitable to those who prefer them~ There is wealth enough for leisure to cultivate the higher faculties~ and yet even the rich among us are incited to lead active lives un- der the open sky. Property is so. diffused that the scale is gradual from the richest to the poorest. Even - the poorest sddom turn beggars. or thieves, for., pov- erty here is neither extreme nor hopeless. Content- ment is almost universal Perhaps the pressure of ~1 page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] 46 l~oEntOi~. necessity is scarcely sufficient 'to stimulate as rapid improvement in useful arts as we might rationally desire. Morals are generally simple and pure. Truth, honesty and mutual good-will--the main ele- iiients of mdrality-.-are generally enforced by usage and opinion. Even the blacks have been raised to a degree of well-being and of~virtue hitherto unknown to their race. 'They really seem to be happier in their .way than their masters. Most of the evils xvhich ex- ist appear to be common to mankind, while many of our blessings are peculiar to Virginia." "And yet," exclaimed the doctQr, "the Yankees are eager to subvert our social system and foist upon us their superior civilization! A sordid civilization, glittering with a thin surface of gold-leaf.---having circulating gold for its life-biood, a golden calf for its God, and a material New Jerusalem with pavements literally golden for the heaven of its hope. A cizili- zation in which men, with fierce and grasping compe- tition, grovel and jostle each other as men do in the gold-diggings. Every man in the North is let loose against his neighbor to become victor or victim in a ~truggle for life. Of course, all society becomes mer- cenary, and honors, laws, verdicts, religion, everything is on sale in the vast auction-mart. But because the general scramble of sordid selfishness assists the teem- ing fertility of a new continent to produce cities and palaces, they vaunt their vicious civilization as the final product 9f consummate wisdom." "Let us be cautious as well as candid, my dear doc- tor," replied Mr. Ambler, "in passing judgment upon entire coinnnin'ities. In those of the North, as in others, there are conspicuous evils which are easily censured. Some men there flaunt their follies and kOERUCIC. 47 vices before the world with singular hardihood. But my acquaintance with the Northern people has not been general or intimate and we cannot judge them rightly Without knowing them thoroughly. Without such knowledge, it is fair to presume that, in the main, they are like other men-like Ourselites. Re. member how we have been tra~Iuced among them when accidental anomalies have -been culled and cari- catured as characteristics of our social system. Thus deplorahie animosities have been kindled and fanned into a dangerous 'flame. We should not repeat- tho ~error in censuring them. ~Charity forbids it, and, since mistakes here' endanger the public tranquility, prudence and patriotism enforce the lesson of charity." - "Is it wise then," inquired Mi~ Fitzhugh, "to shut our eyes to the faults of our associates when they affect our safety '~ Should we not consider whether the corruption, or the passions, or the policy of the North requires us to dissolve our connection with that country s?" "A truce ;" cried Mr. Ambler, "since the conver- sation is drifting into a political discussion, I must i'etreat from it. Will you not help me out of the scrape, Julia ~" "I hope to have Miss Julia for an ally in supports.. ing my political opinions upon a' proper occasion," said IF'itzhugh. '~ I refer you to papa for my politics. lie is my political conscience-keeper. 'But I am glad to second* Mr. Ambjer's desire to converse upon less exciting topics; especially as I have wished to hear the con- clUsion of an incident which he had begun 'to relaw when dinner waalaanoiuieed. You were~speaking, page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 48 flOI~I3UCIt. IIGEBUCK. 49 (I - Mv. Amb,1~r, of a companion you ha9~ in the carriage this morning." "Yes; you, Colonel Fairfax, know Abraham, Mar- lin; the:cooper?" '~ Very well; an odd character, but a good man and a good mechanic." "Have you ever heard him peach ~" asked the doctor. "Preach I" exc~imed Mrs. Fairfax.. "Preach or exhort, as you prerei~. iI~ is ~.a ate enthusiast who has stumbled into a sect of New- Lights and forthwith taken to exhorting~ his neigh- bors. They are beginning to style him pas~on, I am told." "I dare say he is a worthy man," mildly observed Mx. Ambler, "though h~ may be presumptuous. In all times there have been honest men who felt them- selves called to preach religious truth because their souls were Jii'ed with religious zeaL" "They mistake the fever of fanaticism for inspira- tkrn," said the doctor. "Uncle Dick, I fi~ar you.r late reform needs reform- ation.". "True, Colonel Julia; you are as good as a second conscience to me. Since you are not satished with my reformation, I promise not to reform any more~ reform myseli; I mean." "However," continues Mr. Ambler, "it was not of Marlin, the cooper, that I was about to speak par- ticularly, but of his son, Mark." "Mark Marlin-I know him well,' xe~inarked Hugh Fitzhugh; "tie i~. a fine young fellow.~ I met him first in-hunting. His father lives in a cabin ~ a aniall "Well, as I came from the ~village to-day I 6ver- took a youth walking on the road-side. My attentionn was attracted by his fine athletic form and his elastic step. When he turned his- face to mej and, raising his hat, saluted me with, the title of pauom t~my dear doctor) I thought his countenance displayed more in- teIlig~nce than we are used to find in such homely garb as he wore and at his age, for he could not be more than seventeen. Curious ~o learn something about him and willing to give the pedestrian a lift at the expense of your horses, Mrs. Fairfax, I invited him into the carriage. He courteously declined at first, but when I asked him to grant me some conver~ - sation as a favor to- me, he came in. I soon learned that his na~ne was Mark Marlin, whose father I knew slightly, and I drew him on to such other disclosures as might enable me to judge of.my duty to my young neighbor." "We, young men," interposed hugh Fitzhugh, "have to thank you for treating us tll as soiis rather than as neighbors only." - "It is one of my pleas~2nt duties, Hugh. I 4is~civ. ered that Mark had an acute intellect, and that he had reflected much on sOme of the knotty pr~blerns of life. From defect of edneation his ideas were t~omewhat confused and imperfectly expressed. I-saw that he had some ambition, and' I asked him what he aimed to make of himself as a man. 'A gentleman,' was his brief and ready response. I endeavored then to gather from his talk what conception of a gentle- man had fired his youthful ambition. He neither de- fined nor described the character, but simply said.-. 'Colonel Fred is the sort of man~" Thus, you: per- 8 page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] 60 ROEBUCIC. ceive, 'my fi'i~nd, that you are the model of our youth -even bf the SonS of our mechanics." "And I am 'sure," Mrs. Fairfax hegan-~ - "flush,' my dear," cried the colonel with his cheery laugh, "if you open your lips about your husband, Mr. Ambler, as a faithful pastor, will, have to rebuke us both for my manifold perfection. At present I stand charged only~with being a gentleman, as, of course, I am bound to be." Mrs.' Fahlax replied with a look such as loving, wives have often bestowed on worse husbands, and the clergyman proceeded- "I reminded Mark that Colonel Fairfax had an an~ple fortune, which secured'to him the social posh tion of a gentleman. He looked at me, au~d said with some hesitation-'.YoU are not rich, but you are 8 gentleman.' I could not, of ~oume, repel this arg~ ,nenlum act Iiominem. But I observed that the colonel sprang from an ancient faintly. He did not shrink from the reflection implied upon the humility of hi~' own family, but, in awkward phrases, went on to say that birth obliged Colonel Fred'to be'a gentleman in character and' conduct, while it secured to him the consideration due to a gentleman without ettort on his part in the beginning. 'But;' he added, 'a poor man, and the 'son of a poor man, in a free country, * can rise to a gentleman's place if he behaves like a * gentleman.' lie thought that wealth would help him to his object, but he had a suspicion that the ways by which men get rich suddenly are unfrIendly to the sentiments and habits that* should distinguish a gen- tleman. He believed it would be better to aim at / one of those professions which people look up t~ as carrying the idea of social ranks If we should have ROEJ3UCIt. 61 a war in which it would be creditable to volunteer, he would be inclined to go as a sQ1dier,~ and fight his way up to a Conunissioi~, as that would entitle him to the position of a gentleman, and, for the character of a gentleman, he would keep Colonel Fred in mind as his model. Be~ides, he said, he was studying book~ at home every evening after bis day's work was done. The conversation by which these thoughts were brought to light, one after another, occupied the tii~ie until we caine to the end of the avenue. Mark then left me, after promising to visit me at the par- sonage. ~' "I hope,'~said the Colonel, "he will prove to be worthy of the care which I t'oresee you will bes1o'~v on the development of his character." "Can you doubt it, brother Fred, when you rdinem.. ber his model ~" * "I will be surety for him," said Hugh Fit~hugh, though I believe Mr. Ambler, after ~ single half- hour's ride with him, knows him. better than I do. In tracing the springs of his conduct, Mr. Ambler, you have shown~ an art which I do not possess." "I learned something of that art in my arst pro- fession, the law, and I have learned the best uses of it in my present profession." "Have you heard what happened last night to our neighbor Eckles ?" inquired Colonel Fairf~x. "I have not. What'WasitV' "Eeldes, you may kno~, has for some time been excluded ii'oin society by the gentlemen of the county on account of his cruel treatment of his slaves." "He came from Massaohus~tts," grumbled the doe. tor; "those Northenu men, when they seWe among us, do not know h~w to 'treat ne~roea, because they page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] flOBBUOK. .53, 52 . 1tOEBUOI~. have not been bred as slaveholders. They, ~ith a few native reprobates, give the only color of truth there is for the enormous calumnies upon ~u.i' society that are circulated at the Nerth."' "Yesterday," resumed the colonel, "he maltreated one of his slaves, and, to punish~ him for it, some young men of his neighborhood went to his house in the evening, and7, inviting him. out, they ducked him in the river-by way ofa warning, They told him." - '-"Ihope he was not seriously hurt," observed Mrs. Fairfax. "No; he got a thorough wetting only, I under~ stand. It is probable, however, that he will sell his property and leave the coutmtry." ." No doubt," said the doctor, "he wrn return to the North, turn abolitionist and deliver lectures on the hoiTo~s of slavery-admittance twentyilve cents a head." * ~C Might we not, Colonel," asked Mr. Ambler, "pro tect the negroes by law more effectually against such * masters ~" "It is doubtful. Good as well as evil results from the large discretionary authority allowed by law to the masters, as in the case also of parents. Opinion, religion,-custom and time are- safer as well as surer forces than law for the melioration of such social insti~ tutions.. Qzdd leges sine mbribu* proficient? During the last two centuries the condition of our slaves has been greatly improved without m~uch aid from legi~- lation. The authority of the masters, in point of fact, is seldom abused in. Virginia. We may expect improvement to be p~ogr~essive. The trenchant oper~ ation of positive law upon theintricate and delicate re- lations of i~ooiety is' apt to be mischievous, unless the I law merely sanctions or completes what time has proved and usage enacted. Then, though law does no harm, it is almost superfluous. Thus, when time had left little for law to do, slavery was abolished by law in the Northern States. In England it was abolished insensibly by time alone, without1 law." "At all events, colonel, perhaps, our legislation might be amended with respect to the marriage of slaves and the separation of their-families." "Possibly, if the pestilent agitation of more vital questions connected with the institution did not pre~ vent a calm consideration of such subjects, some practicable amendment might be devised. But it would be difficult to frame a law that would not do more harm than good. The practical evils to be cor~ reoted have been in. a great measure removed already in Virginia by the silent influences to which I have adverted.- Families are seldom separated without their consent, - except in circumstances of necessity, such as must separate families in all communities and under whatever .laws. Marriage is more generally enforced by the authority of the master~ than will- - ingly observed by. the negroes:. Their natural iridif.. ference to marital and, parental obligations is more in fault than our laws. If yom~ absolutely foybid the separation of families, will you not condemn both masters and slaves to unavoidable suffering in many casesV' "But a Christian State should protect the sacred bond of matrimony." "The purely religious idea connected with marriage by many Christians ~s not a proper subject for legisla~ tion. It is to be inculcated and enforce4, as it i~ now among whites and blacks, by the teaching and *1 page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] ROEBUCK. 55 ROEBT.TCIr. discipline of religious bodies. I believe that, when- ever the slaves are prepared to perform the duties of the family, there will be little need of law to protect their family ties. Probably they are better protected and more faithfully observed now in Virginia than such ties are among free negres anywhere or among ~the poorest classes in other countries." "Nov, my dear husband, I think we may lay these grave themes aside. Julia and I have been silent a long time." "Place auz dameS. I yield the floor to the ladies. Shall We talk of a wedding ?" ~" I can~tell you something about a wedding nearer home thaa you think, perhaps, papa, and not so foreign to your own grave discourse as your mode of putting that question implies;" said Julia. "A wedding it shall be then, daughter" Julia gave a slight and humorous description of the last grand wedding among the servants when her maid,. Grace, had been taken for better for worse by carpenter Dick, with every vow that should bind ~two lives together and with a disinterested' contempt of marriage settlements; when all Africa of Roebuck held high festival; when the women, "black but comely like the "tents of Kedar," arrayed themselves in gorgeous colors, and when Mrs. Fairfax, having supplied a great supper, gave a smiling care to the entertainment of her servants. The slaves had jollity and sensuous pleasures which a Luegro loves; master and mistress assumed the careS which a negro abhors. The children of Ham were cursed with servitude but their nature was adapted to make it easy. The rose 'of a blessing often blooms on the thorn of a curse. * CHAPTER V. ROEBUCK THREATE~EX~.% O~ evening, a few days later, Albert Palmer sat at home with his father and mother. The parlor in which they w'ere had costly furnitur~, and the house was large and commodious. The father, Mr. Israel Palmer, was a little over fifty-five years of age, and, in appearance, might have been his son, grown older, rich and wary. Some score of years before that time he had come from New England with a little capital, and settled in Virginia as a merchant. lie had thrive, aiid, a few years ago, he purchased land in the county with a hope of crowning a life of success- ful business with the respectable enjoyments* of a wealthy planters He now coveted, as he had once envied, the social rank which he regarded as aristo- cracy. He was hospitably received in the county, but, by degrees, a difference of manners and tastes rendered the intercourse between him and his neigh-" bors more constrained and less frequent. J3eing jealous and suspicious, he imagined offence where none was intended. 2f~strangement and then dislike ensued. Stung by fancied insult, he medi- tated retaliation. He was not a man to yield to a real or imaginary conspiracy to exclude him from the. society of the "aristocracy." He wa& resolved to re- tain his estate and Teside on it. He would watch for opportunities to elevate his own family and to avenge page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] 56 ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. 57 himself on others. His feelings had become almost morbid when the pro~peot of~ 5ec&sion and war set his shrewd and active mind to calculating what ad- vantages he might; dei'ive from thos~ events. He was so cautious and secret that his thoughts were not freely disclosed even tQ his family. His wife was a tall, slender woman, with many ~ gles and no curves. She wore her hair, her eyes, her lips, her limbs and her gown with formal precision. She sat erect' in a square, high-backed chair. She placed her hands on her lap smoothly along, palm to palm. She set her feet ~at en the floor, near toge~ ther, and making with each other the very angle which, according to her notion, was proper. When she moved from one seat to another, she elongated her figure in rising with the jointed, hinged and oiled exaetness of a mathematical instrument, glided away on a straight line, with mechanical regularity of step, and let herself down like.a jointed instrument again. When she talked, her voice ran' out in a level stream without break, emphasis or cadence. The ~entiments she uttered were always frigid, but never wrong, according to the ~tand~rd of right which slj~e had studied. The warmer and-nobler emotions were represented in her discourse by eulogies of them. ~She deprecated their opposWes with little hitches in her utterances that were hints of horror. She passed for a saint~ in her family and in her conscience too. She practiced the politeness of elaborate flattery. ,She was a woman of learning, for she had been educated in fl~ston, an4 talked rather "like a book" than like a lady. She remembered some scraps of Latin, which she lugged into her conversation in season and out of season. Husband, wife and son were discussing the latest news. The same subject was discussed that evening in every habitation of Virginia where the intelligence had been received, The commissioners deputed by the Confederate government to visit Washington and solicit an amicable adjustment of the questions inci- dent to secession, after ljeing detained with delusive art until certain warlike preparations were secretly made, were rejected. A defiance and provocative of war was offered to the South by sending vessels to Charleston harbor to be fired 'upon,: and finally it was announced that the Presid~nt of the United States had, by proclamation, called forth an army to be em- ployed against the Confederate States, and that, in consequence of this proclamation, the Convention of Virginia had passed an ordinance of secession, sub- ject to ratification or rejection by the people at the' polls. It was also rumored that the State authorities had dispatched a volunteer force to seize the armory at Harper's Ferry. "This. means war," pronounced the paternal Palmer. "Undoubtedly war," echoed the 59U. "The ordinance of secession will be ratified by the people." "Almost unanimously." "We should be prepared for those events," said the father. "We must choose a side, no doubt~" replied the son. "Or sides." ) This brief, ambiguous qualification, added by h~s wary father, was not quite intelligible to Albert~, b(it he asked no explanation and none was offered. TIia page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] ROTh BUCl~. 59 flOEBUCIt. old gentleman sat for some minutes in silence looking at his son, as if cautiously pondering how far he might trust his own flesh/and blood with his thoughts. At length he quietly remarked.-.- "The North will subj agate the South." "Do you really think so V' "It is mathematically certain." "You scarcely appreciate the Southern people, father." "I appreciate. statistics." Again there was silence. The thin lips of Mrs. Palmer parted, as if to open a passage for the steady little breeze of words which usually flowed without apparent impulse from her mo~tith, whenever it was open, like the breath of the Blowing Cave. But she saw that the gentlemen, while gazing at each other, were revolving thoughts which might not brook interruption from her just then; So the lips were laid together again in a straight seam. Her husband re~ sumed the conversation in the same quiet tone. "This war will destroy slavery." "I do not foresee that as a necessary consequence," replied Albert, "-even If the South should be con- quered, etill less, if the independence of the South should be successfully maintained." "As hostility to slavery was the origin, the ctestruc~. tion of slavery must be the end of the, war. If it should have they magnitude and duration which I anticipate, it will destroy slavery even if, in the final result, the South should retain its independence." "My dear husband and my beloved eon," Mrs. Palmer slipped into a slight pause in the conversation of the gentlemen, "my conscience prompts' me to observe that we ought not to grieve at the release of millions of our fellow-beings from the shackles of bondage and the lash of cruel task-masters; all men are created free and equal; man cannot lawfully hold property in man; traffic in human flesh. cannot be blessed with the approval of heaven; this reflection occurred to my mind, my dear husband, when you sold Tom, to be carried to Lousiana without his wife and children, but it was true, as you said, that he was quite disobedient and he did not want his family to go with him and his wife did not want to go, and that last family you bought you got at a low price, because the owner did not wish to' separate, them and could not find another purchaser for them all; it was very humane in you; I hope the day will soon come when the whole family of man will enjoy the sunshine of universal freedom under" "We should be prepared for these events, Allert," repeated the father. "Prudence requires it," prudently echoed the son. "I will sell my slaves." "The money might be more secure in any event of the war." "But, my dear husband, would it not be more con- sistent with our principles to emancipate them 'p?" "To be denounced as an abolitionist ?" "True; that is a~n insuperable objection ; we must preserve our respectability in society'; my sensibility i~ deeply wounded when I think of the painful neces- sities. of our positioniaere ;I sometimes regret that we left New England, coelun~ nom animwri mutant qui trans mare current ;to be sure we have improved our worldly condition here, but nothing ~is so sweet as a calm and quiet conseienQe; I suppose me must 0e11 the ueaToes" - page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 60 flO1~BUCK. ROEBUCK. 01 "I will invest the money abroad," added Mr. Palmer. "Would it not be prudent to sell your land also and invest the money abroad ~" asked Albert. "Never !" exclaimed the father, rising and walk. ing about the room in evident excitement. It was part of a cherished plan to retain his land as the territorial foundation of that social supremacy to which he aspired. The proposal to sell it pricked his most sensitive nerve. But, with habitual self.control, lie restrained the expression of his thoughts, and, after some time, resumed his seat atid his composure. "You have said, Albert, that we must choose a side in this war." "'Or~ sides,' you added, father." "Why should a man risk his fortunes with one party exclusively? Or why should you and I both appear on the same side ?" These questions surprised Albert. lie had taken for granted that, in such a contest, it would be neces- sary for him to act a decided part, and he had not dreamed of acting in Opposition to his father. He ha~d made some progress toward a decision fir him- self, but with a mental reservation that his father was to approve his final choice. He had been educated at a Northern University, but even there, he had affoc~ed to play the Southerner. The young men of Virginia always treated him with cordial friendship, and, by their frank manners, high spirit and honorable cow. duct, they won his esteem and excited his emulation. From them he borrowed some sentiments of local patriotism, such as the young always cherish, and he was ambitious to appear among them as a tine and ardent Virginian. He adopted his fathers aspiration a to improve the social position of the family, and thought his own marriage might promote that object. He was not insexisible to the charms of Julia Fairfax, and, with hereditary thrift, had calculated the advan- tages which the hand of that heiress could bestow. Under the influence of various feelings and calcula- tions, he had accustomed himself to make loud pro- fessions of violent Southern, sentiments, and he could scarcely have told how far they were sincere and how far affected. He was inclined to range himself still on the side of Virginia in the war that was now imnii~ nent, but he was ready to weigh all advantages on each side before taking an irrevocable step. It ha4 never occurred to him that lie might secure the advantages of both sides or of neutrality. Perplexed by his father's questions, he looked at him as if he would read an explanation in his face, but that was not to be read like the face of a cloek. Mr. Palmer. instead of explaining asked another question- "To which side do you incline, Albert " "I have believed that it was your desire to identify our family with this community, and it would seem most consistent with your views that I should em- brace the cause of Virginia7," cautiously replied the son. After another pause the father said- "You have visited Miss Fairfax ?" "Not often." "What course will her father pursue ia the war 7'~ "Doubtless he will adhere to Virginia." "He owns a fine estate ?" -~ "Yes, sir." * "It will be confiscated." Again there was silence. The suggestion of con. ~1soation was new to Albert, and both gentlemen (I page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] a 62 flOEBUCK. were interested in trains of thought connected with it, but neither communicated his reflections to the other. At length the father briefly announced his conclusion. 'Go with the South, Albert. I will adhere to the North." "Really, father, you will oblige me if you wrn ex- plain the ~reasons which lead you to a decision so ex- traordinary." "Is it not natural for me 'to prefer the land in which I was born and in which I lived, until I was too old. to discard the attachments of youlh, and' that you should prefer the land in which you have grown up 'P' "Pessibly; but".-the young man hesitated. .He was about to insinuate that his father. had put forth a mere pretext to cover deeper reasons. He was un- derstood. The father replied to his thought. "I choose, then, the 'par1~y that is most likely to prevail. I expect thus to save my property. You have none tolose. ]3y the sale of negroes I may olflain means to purchase confiscated estates. All will enure to the benefit of yourself and your mother and sister. This is preparation for one event and that almost cer- tain. But if the South should happen to succeed you can save my property, and, by marriage, you may obtain another estate. Now do you understand ?" he asked with asperity, as if he was angry with his son for requiring him to disclose his secret plans. The latter inquired.-.. "May not your property or perhaps your person be in danger here, when it becomes :known that you em- brace the Northern cause ~" "It need not become known kere." ROEBUCIt. 63 As th~ gentlemen ceased to converse, Mrs. Palmer deemed this a favorable opportunity for herself to talk, but she had to soliloquize. Her keen scent of the family interest made her a safe confidant of all domestic debates, and the instinct of unwavering self- ishness had sometimes carried her on a bee-line to the stores of fortune when reason would have stuin- bled in the search. lint when business had been settled, the gentlemen did not deem it necessary to "hear her homily. "It is a good thing to see brethren' dwell together in unity; it is a great crime to destroy the glorious Union established by our fathers anTd cemeiited with their bh~od-..4iberty and union now and f~rever'one and insepai~ble-every man should do his duty to his country; duice et decorwz& est pro patria ~o~i;'we should be willing to die for our native land; your native land is New 'England, 'my dear husband-' lives there a man with soul so dead who never to 'himself h~t~h said, this is my own, my native land;' you~ did not cease to be a true New Englander by coming tG Vir- ginia to make a fortune; even a poor banished exile carries with him the sentiments which he inhaled with his native air; patrw quis exut .~e quo que fugit; the North is the strongest; why should the dear children lose their patrimony' in a quarrel' between. Northern fanatics and Southern fire-eaters; a man who don't provide for his family is several degrees worse than an Infidel; if poor Colonel Fairfax's estate should be confiscated you may be able to buy it with the money you get for~the negroes; I abhor the traffic in human flesh; I was brought up in pious principles; if the South should succeed, Albert might marry Miss Fairfax, and save the estate all the san~; it would be page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] 84 ROEBUCK. so kind of us. to keep it in the poor co1onel~. family; we need not talk about these things; nobody need ever know, Albert, whether your father is North or south; he is a very wise maia," "Mother, where is sister Jane? I want some music." Sister Jane was called,' but her music only served to remind Albert of Julia Fairfax, whose image lured him along a chain of logic that aided in a conclusion favorable to the Southern cause. lIe resolved to ad. ihereto it for reasons rather more reputable than those which ~his fl~ther. had suggested. But be found it satisfactory to. know that a course of conduct which was right was ako, in the judgment of his wise father, prudent in all aspects. When the music ceased, 1~fr. Palmer drew forth his watch and intimated that~ the .hour for family worship had arrived. All the daughters were summoned, and Mrs. Palmer placed on a stand beside him a Bible a hymn book and a candle; for, in every external ob~ servance, as in every prudential virtue, Mr. Israel Palmer wae the model of a Christian. I CHAPTER VI. W A U. 0r the next day sat the County Court. At an early hottr the court~-bouse g~'een and the village street - were thronged with men. Horses filled every stable and shed, and stood along both sides of the street from end to end. The county had turned out, for the county was deeply agitated. The village had but a single street. On one side of it stood the court-house, with its adjacent offices and neighboring jail. Opposite was the Swan, Tavern,- an ancient inn, famous for good cheer. Scattered along either side of the street were two rival stores, the shops of the blacksmith, saddler, wagon-maker and shoemaker, the offloes of two lawyers and two physi.. clans, and the dwellings of half-a'-dozen lnSohanics. At one end of the street stood a wooden building, of which the lQwer story was occupied by a wool-carding machine, propelled by horse-. power, and in the upper story was a printing office, from which a weekly news.. paper entitled the "Tobacco Leaf'~ w~s issued about twice a xnc~nth, and. in some months thrice. At the other end of the street was an old church, built in Co. lonial.times, with a parsonage of less antiquity~ The church-yard contained many monuments that were moss-grown or crumbling with age. On some of them 'could' yet be dimly traced heraldic or literal me- mentoes of the pride of a former generation, and .ou I 86 BO~BU'u 64 page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] 66 ROEBUCK. others were inscriptions so quaint that nothing but antiquity could save them 'from from a suspicion of drollery. With these, of' course, were decent but tasteless tombstones of modern date. Such was the village which had once been endowed ~ with a proper name-some name already famous, or one which the village was expected to render famous. But it was almost forg&tte4 and never mentioned in the county. People always spoke simply of "the- village," as if there had been but one. in the universe. In fact, there was not ai~iother of equal importance in the county, and there were but few in Virginia. Ex- cept those whose professions or trades bound them to towns, people in that fair, bright county preferred rural residences. In the wide suburbs of this village resided, among shady ~roves and on small farms or large lots, the merchants, professional men and prin- cipal Officer8 of the bounty. On the court green-a shady lawn of considerable extent-the citizens of the countywereaccustomed to. meet on ill public days Ior the tx~ansaction of busi- k~ess, to hear and tell news, or to discuss the affairs 'of the county, the State and the Ijnion. Never before, perhaps, had so many of them. been assem- bled there as on this April -court day,' in the year eighteen hundred and sixty-one. A glance ~t the assemblage would have discovered that there was intense popular excitement, but it was silent and stern. When Colonel Falrfaxi went upon the green that day, and even'before he had left his horse, he was strr- rounded by different khots of men, successively grasp~ Ing his hand and seeking his counseL He was 'always' received there as a favorite citizen, for he was very 66 ItOE~3UC.K. 67 popular. But on this occasion it was not mere popu- larity, it was a profound respect for his wisdom, integ. rity and patriotism that drew the' people around him, as their counsellor in a crisis of public danger. To their eagel' inquiries he replied,~sadly but firmly, "the 'hour has come-we must fight." His words flew from month to mouth, and the whole 'multitude soon knew that "Colonel Fred thought we mn.st fight." This opinion accorded so exactly with the previous c9nvic-. tion of every mind and the impulse 'of every heart that it was accepted at once as a conclusive judgment. When it became generally understood that the ques- tion of war was determined, and that the people were all of one mind, the hushed excitement was succeeded by murmurs of mutual encouragement. 'Most of those present were thoughtful and resolute men, who were well aware that the "war which they accepted as un- avoidable was for theni a calamity. . They felt as brave and rational men may feel when they are forced to choose between the risk of death and the loss of r~mething held dearer than life. There were no des- perate wretches to whom war might bring relief. There were ~no mere "fooLI for powder." But when the feelings of the crowd began to find vent in words, some enthusiastic young men evinced the animal. joy of youth 'at the. prospect. of glorious strife. Among the boys excitement, as usual, effervesced in hilarity~ Their spirit of glee was caught up as a multitude catches any emotion, no one can~ tell how or why, and r in a little while smiles were seen on the. lips of men whose brows were yet stern. 'Their hearts were heavy 'but not dismayed. The spring of courage supported the weight of war. hugh Fitzhugh.stood upon the 'steps of the portico 67 page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] 08 1~O'EBUVK; in front of the co~urt-house.' A crier of the oourt, standing beside him, solicited attention by,, shouting with stentorian voice-.-" Oyez, Oye~! silence is 'com~~ manded, on ~ain of imprisonment--.beg pardon-I take that back-Oyez, Oyez! Hugh Fitzhugh, Esquire, will now address the people, and God 'save the .Com.~ monwealth and this worshipful court-.I beg pa~rdon again-but I will say, God save old Virginia, and I'll never take it back, pardon or no pardon." Whether the crier 1 a design or merely blundered into a~i accustomed formula' 40f' his oflIc~, his final prayer for the Commonwealth, uttered with earnest emphasis, sent a thrill through the crowd. A score of voices' cried, ~" three cheers for old' Virginia - God bless her ~" and all the people responded with a tumult of cheering. When there was silence, Fitzhugh 'said: "It is proposed to raise a company of volunteer~ cavalry for the defence of the State. I hol4 a paper prepared for the signatures of those who wish to vol- ~nteer. Let them now come forward. If others will pardon me for taking the start of them, I will set my name down first." "Well done, Hugh !" exclaimed the older citizens. "Wait for me! Wait for me !" shouted many of the younger. "Three cheers for Hugh Fitzhugh !" cried one~-" three cheers for the, cavalry 1" added another, . and "three cheers for the Old Dominion !" was a gen- eral call. All the cheers proposed~were given with a will, and while the mass fanned itself into a flame with its own breath, the young men were stepping forward and emolling their names. But it became necessary 'to retire from the portico, for within the temple of jus- tice the voice of the crier was heard commanding silence in the formula with which the sessions of the 08 flOflBUCIC. court were opened. The c~urt was held by five jus- tices of ~the peace, i~e&pectabIe farmers, and the presid- ing justice was Oaptair~ Walker, a venerable. man of ninety. He was remarkable for vigor of ~znind and body at that age. Few men of' seventy cafried their bui'dem of years with as unbending firmness. In the earliest years of the century he was a leading citizen of the 'county, respected for his uprightness, his en- ergy and his ability. Increase of years added all that should accompany old age. Having once served as a captain of volunteers, ho was still called "captain." The fictitious title of colonel, 'often courteously or jocosely conferred on conspicuous citizens by popular brevet, could not snpersede ;the real rank of' actual ser- vice. A fiction fastened upon his name would have offended the genuine esteem felt by his neighbors for a character so ruggedly sincere~ It was apparent.thav no judicial business could be transacted that day. The Commonwealth's attorney, Mr. Williams, rose to address the court, and, after alluding to the coxnmencem~nV of'war, observed that -in the first instance th~ counties would probably have to provide foi' the immediate expenditures required'for. the public defence, for the equipment of v~lttnteers and for the support of their families in the cases .of poor men during their absence fromiiom~. At 'his 'sugges- tion, the court ordered all the justices of the county to be summoned to the ne4 monthly term for the pur- pose of considering this ~siibject. He then stated that the people desired to hear a'discu~sion of public affairs, and particularly of the question submitted to ~them by the convention-that of secession. In order that. the court-house might be occupied f~r this pnr- pose, the court, on his motion, adjourned for the 'day. I page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 70 RGflBUCIt. ~OBflUCK. 71 Proclamation having been made at the door, the people gathered into the court~house-all except those who were too intent, upon the formation of a company of cavalry. The question of war had been deter- mined, 6r rather, as they thought, it had been forced by their enemies. The question of secession remained to be discussed and decided. The house was soon brim-fulL The dense assemblage. included citizens of all ages, classes~ and conditions. High and low, rich and poop, learned and unlettered, were. packed tog~t~ie~r. The upturned faces expressed. every degree of intelligence and ,a great variety of character; ' but - all were earnest~faces, and not a dozen men were there who would have told ~a lie under any temptation. According t~ ouet~m, a chairman of the meeting was appointed. The person selected for that office was Captain Walker, the presiding justice' of the County topped ~orw~r4 on the ~ourt~. When he justices? bench to take the chair the whole assembly rose in t~1~en of respect for him and stood until he was seated~ Before taking his seat he spoke a few wori~. "My countrymen: I thank you f~r this honor, but I accept it with sadness. I rejoiced at the birth of the Union. Now, on the verge of the grave myself, I am summoned to its death-bed. Would to Ood I had died flrst~ But it is better to have liberty with- out union than union without liberty." CHAPTER VII. SECESSION. So~n~ of the speeches delivered to the meeting were long and elaborate, hut they have not been preserved in fulL Brief notes, taken by the editor of the - "Tobacco Leaf," were published in the next, issue of that journal, and thus the heads of argument can now be reproduced. They will be given with their imper.. feet brevity, but in the connected form of speeches rather th~tn in the manner of detached mom anda, as they appeared \in the newspaper. Mr. Williams first addressed meeting ~ "You are yet a free people," he b~gan, "you are assembled, not as conspirators concealed by darkness and bound by clandestine oaths, nor as subjects overawed by bayonets, ~but as free citizens deliberating. In open day according to anejent ~usage upon theaffairs of your country. Whatever. may be your decision this day oi.at .the polls, you will, in deciding, exercise a hereditary tig)~t in a law. ful wanner. You will perform the gravest duty 'that ewer has devolved upon you 'as citizens. Decide for your country. "You love tbe Union. Only a f~w weeks ago, at the election of members of the convention now In session, you gave a new and conclusive proof of your devotion, to it by your votes. ]~ven to.~day, though your jiu1gnietit~ maybe convinced that secession is necessary, yet in ~~A'vo~ating it I may, shock the sensibility of your life-long attachment. In ao State l~as the Uflioi~c beeu cherished with 'more sincere affection than iii Virginia.. &it JOLt ivill not shrink from duty be~au~o ~t ~s painful~ % page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 72 The right of a State to withdraw from the Union when. ever, In her Judgment~ It haa become oppressive and she hasno~ther adequate remedy, is a right which our fathers have taught us to venerate as essential to the preservation of our liberties under the Federal system. You are familiar with the reasons by which ithas~ been vindicTated. I need only remind you of some of those reasons. According to an acknowledged principle of i~atural justice and of public law, ~ sovereign State has a right to dissolve her compacts with 9ther States whenever, in her judgment, there is just cause to dissolve them. If this right were not allowed, a Btat~ would often have no jt.tst r lress for the violation of a compact by another party, She is held to be justified in annulling it hi morals as well as iti law, when it has been wiifuIIy~ yioI~ated by the other party in points essential to her security or welfare. The application of these principles to the, Federal Union will not be~denied by any one- who adwits that otu Statesare sovereign and that the .Constitu. tion is a compact between them. But these were the propositions established in a memorable contest-.-.the first great Constitutional controversy in the Union. Virginh~. had *~ conspicuouspart In that controversy, and has preserved for the instruction-of future agei the unanswerable-ptoofs she then rrayed to establish that the States are sovereign and the. Federal Constitution is a compact between them. - 9 When the Colonies threw ofr their allegiance to Great Britain, they assumed the character of States. In that character they were recognized by each, other, and by all nations. In that character they framed and adopted the ~deral Constitution, retaining in it the name of United States. Important provisions of that instrument recog.. nize their continued existence as States~ with the equality ~ of sovereigns, and with a large and utideflued reservation ~f independent powers. 3y the most solemn acts of Mas~ sachusetts and of other States, the sovereignty of each State in th~ Union has been, affirmed. Our political and judicial history is full, of documents supporting the seine doctrine, associated with tho fundamental principle tii~at the Constitution in a compact. The right to dissolve the coni.. x~o~uc1~. 73 pact~ inherent In the States was not surrendered In * the Constitution. On the contrary, it was reserved by Virginia in her ordinance to Tatify the Federal coni~ pact. * "If we ascend above Constitutions and historical dccii. ments to the sources of natural and eternal ~rtstice, a natu~ ral, inalienable, iodef~asible right of self-government be~ longs to great communities like these Southern States~ civilized, organized communities, capable of fulfilling the. duties of a nation. This is a right which iioconstitutlouor compact can annul, and no power can take away. "Having the right, Virginia ought to secede. The Fo~ deral compact has often been nullified or violated by many of the Northern. States, wilfully, wantonly, persistently in matters vitally affecting the Southern States. The power which the North has acquired, and its persi$t~ce. in wrong, have destroyed all hope of redress~ in the Union, Many acts of Northern aggression are fresh in. your recob * election. Each one has been met with solemn protest by the South, and every protest has provoked a new outrage: I sl~all not now recite the' long and dreary catalogneQt ag. gressions, for the most recent events demand our exclusive attention. History will keep a record of all. "The framers of the Federal Constitution gnavde4 * against a of p~ver by the- government in every way that their wisdom fOresaw to be necessary; for they knew that all governments tend to tyranny. They protected 1~be small States against the ambition of the larger. But the problem of binding tw& powerful and unequal uatioiia to~. gather under one government, withotit permitting either to oppress the other, was not present to their minds. They - did not foresee that a confederacy of the-- most populous States would be formed within the Union, constitutbig a distinct nation, animated with the usual passions of nations, and with animosity against the whole body et the ~tates not embraced in that Confederacy. But this is wh~t has happened. The Constitution, so far rrom providing secu rity against oppression in such a case, has unintentionally facilitated the design ot the -Northern Ponfedez'aey to~ Op' 4 page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] '74 J7tOEBU CIt. ROE flU C K. 75 1. - press the South. 'By a combiuatipu pursuing the forms of 'the Constitution, a minority of the pe~p1e of the Union have concentratedd the whole power of the North antI. seized the government, electing a President upon principles so unjust that he cotild not receive one Southern vote. Those who persuade themselves that the dominion thus usurped by the North over the South will ever be relinquished, or that it will be exercised with justice, forget history and ignore human nature. Since a Northern Confederacy has flSUrp3d the authority ot' the Union for our oppression, we must save our liberty by a Southern Confederacy beyond the. Union. "If any doubt heretofore remained of the necessity for this action, It, must have been dispelled since the North has claimed the right, through the Federal government, which It controls, to reduce the South to obedience by arms, and has drawn.the sword for that purpose. We might easily ?etnte that pretension by Constitutional argument, but the ,sword can be answered only with the sword. The framers of the Constitution distinctly refused to confer on the Fede- Tal government the power to compel the submission of a state by military force. The last President of the UiTiited States officially disclaimed the power. It could not exist Without transforming our Federal system. It. cani~ot be exercised without establishing ~ m~tary desiiotism at Washington. But reason is silenced. The voice of can.. "non, and not the voice of the people, must decide these 'controversies. "We must defend our sister States of the South. We cannot be neutral. We will, not make war against them. Honor, affection, self-preservation, compel us to take arms In their ~defen~e. If we are to fight we must secede. 'Un- less the State resumes her separate existence, and reclaims the authority which she has granted to the Federal govern- 1nez~t, her people will incur the penalties of treason by 'fighting against that government!. If she secedes, she can 'unite with the other Southern States and make their joint resistance effectual4 Her example will be followed by 'States 'yet'adhering ~ the Union. The formidable array of all the Southern State8 may even yet deter th~ Nort-h, and arrest the war. At all events, it will assure success:' The address of Mr.- Williams was heard with silent attention. At the conclusion of it 'he proposed ~. re~ solution to declare the sense of the jneeting that the ordinance of secession should 'be ratified by the 'people. 'then there was a paitse in the' proceedings, to afford any who' might wish to speak an oppor~ tunity. No one came forward until the chairman was about to take a v6te. Then D'octor i~'airfax rose, ana with some trepidation in his voice, signified a desire to address the meeting. The solemnity of the occa- sion and of the audience repressed his propensity to sarcastic levity an~1 braced his nerves-for he was a man of nerve-to the unaccustomed task of address- ing a public assembly; He spoke thus in sub~ stance "I am opposed to secessiOn. I concur in the opinion that we are now Obflged to engage in war for the det~nce of the South. War supersedes other controversies, and, therefore, I shall not discuss the right of secession or the causeS of secesslOit. Certliluly,, we 5l~aI1 be justified in so- ceding, if secession is advisable, as a measure of war. 2But it is with reference to the war that, in my judgment, 'se- cession is not advisable. "If we 'remain in the UnioWwe may reasonably hope to terminate this war with an/honorable peace; for we shall fight upon no pretension that our enQmies may not ulti- 'macely concede for the si~ke of' peace. If' we s~c~de, we can never return to the Uiilon without a surren~ler of the main point of contest-~that is, without acknowledging our- selves conquered. The North ~vill never concede our separate independence. The war 'inust be foii~ht to cx-' tremity, and, in the extreme event, the Sonth will be sub- jugated. By staking all. upon a desperate venture we shall 14~se aTh .Py moderating our pretez~siousr we may 5~ page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 76 RO~BUCI~. cure important rights, which may be respected herea~er, because we are ready to defend them with the sword. II' Virginia adheres to the Union the. States which have s~- ceded may, under her example and mediation, return to it, ancj there may be a peace honorable to all. "That the war, 4f prosecuted to extremity, will result in our subjugation, appears to my mind painfully certain. The fighting population of the North is as three to one' of our own at the beginning, and with every hour of war this disparity will be widened. Emigration from Europe will * replenish the' North. All the adventurers, paupers and vagabonds of the Old World can be hired to* fight against us. Casualties and the curtailment of our territory by in-~ V~asion, will diminish our numbers and no foreign supply will restore them. .We shall lose Delaware, Maryland, Kentucky and Missouri. certainly. War is in a large~ measure a work of money and machines. The North has both. We have neither. The North can so.on set afloat an unequalled navy. The south can have none. Commerce will continue to enrich our enemies. We shall be cut off from all the world beyond out' own shores. The Federal government has unbounded credit. Our government must establish itself before it can enjoy the credit through which it should be established. Oi~r vast rivers will divide our power t~nd admit the 4'orces of the enemy into the heart of our territory. With a population thinly scattered over an immense area, we have no adequate means ot' concentrating our wealth, our men or our policy. Natural and artificial means of concentration, the most varied. amid complete, ~vil1 be in possession of the enemy and d~spotismn will conceit- trate their policy.. We must not rely,~-upon dissensions in the north. Poli- ticians there ~iave encouraged us to resist, and have de- clared that the army Which marches to conquer us mdcl first pass over the corpse&of themselves and their partisans. Trust them not. When war rages we shall not have e corporal's guard of determined friends in that country. You will see that even so bald a pretext as that the South has fired the first gun, so shallow a triek~. as that ~hiel~ d~ew 9 I ROEBUCK. 77 the fire of Confederate batteries on Fort Sumter, will eon-. solidate the Northern populace in ~furions support of the war. The North is divided into two parties, truculent Re, publicans and truckling flemecrats. No 'party there will act upon the obvious truth, that when liberty is attacked with the sw6rd it can be defe~led only with the s'vord. After it shall be lost, through their aid or. apathy, some Northern men may solicit youm' assistancQ to rescue it from an iron tyranny by windy speeches and ineffectual votes. But in the real struggle you will stand alone. "Expect no aid from Europe. Imagine not that cotton Is king, or that the necesshies of commerce will bring En. gland or France or an~ other power to intervene for our benefit. Intervention must be ivar, or it must be futile. The old nations, taught by experience, dread war and value peace. English cotton manufacturers, having excessive stocks on hand, are now in a condition to be saved from ruirL by any event that will interrupt the exportation 6f cot- ton, from this country for the next three years. English commerce will flourish by any war in which England takes no part. English policy demands the abolition of slavery and the consequent abridgement of the cotton culture on this continent-ends to b~ accomplished by the triumph of the North. Though a division of the Union may be desir- able to her, as reducing a formidable power, yet the ~mpover- ishment of the South by war ~tnd the necessity of' emploj. ing Northern force to keep a conquered people in subjec- tion, may be deemed almost an equivalent. England will stand aloof, and without her, no other power will 'inter- fere. "I will not attempt to appal you by depicting the hor- roi.s of war, It is not to cowardice that I would appeal, but to wisdom. IndeedJ would invoke y6u to welcome all the evils of the most terrible war, if through them you cai~4~ assured of ifldepefl(leliCe of the North. But we s)m4ufd~bnderstn ind, in advance, ~mat this war will probably b'~.~aged against us in the most atrocious spirit. The ~'ederal government, treating us as rebels, will deny to us the rights of war and the rights of humanity. Their hos- page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] t 78 ROEBUCK. 7 nO-nBuoI~. 79 tilities ~vill be havoc. It will scarcely bo surprising If they are lawless and barbarous enough to arm our sla!~es against us. It is a mistake to suppose that secession will prevent them from inflicting the penalty of treason on qur, soldiers. They will not respect the ordinance, and, if' they refrain from that outrage, it ~vill be through fear of our power~ a motive that will operate equally with or without seces- sion~ "A war of prodigious extent, waged by a superior power in a savage spirit, Will finally exhaust the endnranc~ of the South. We shall, doubtless, make one brilliant cain- paiga, through the superior courage of our people, But they cannot sustain, for more than two years at the utmost, the constant pressure of such tremendous odds. Virginia, I trust, will endure, if necessary, until she shall be made a wilderness. Doubtless in this great struggle she will be true to her ancient character. But do not expect other Southern States to emnlat~ her conduct. They will do great d~ds and suffer horrible afflictions before they will surrender a good cause, but some of them will yield before independence can be secured and long before Virginia will be subdued. Her sufferings and her heroism will be in vain. "Whose imagination can fathom the depth of our degra- dation when we shall have been subjugated by the North? The war upon us will never end. A people who hate us now add who then. will have been rendei'ed furious byresis~ tance and arrogant by victory, will have irresistible power to glut their hatred and revenge. They will hold the South by a military tenure. They will be our masters. They will be conquerors and we the conquered. J7ce vicd4 We shall be ruled by satraps, great and small. Our goy- eminent will be dissolved, our laws annulled, our courts suppressed. Garrisons, perhaps composed of our own slaves, will occupy our towns to overawe a people who ~vill never again be trusted. It will not be sufficient for them to submit peacefully to the authority of the conquerers; to avoid suspicion and, still sharper oppression, they must fawn upon their tyrants and profess to be iWlove with their chtdnsa They must hasten to sacrifice their institutions, their civil rights, thOir manhood, in order to appease the jealoUsy of foreign rulers. Their country will be for them * both a prison and a charnel house, and amopg the ashes of their sons and brothers slain in the war, ~they will brood over the hopeless bondage which the war bins brought on themselves. 'The soldiers who conquer us will be pensioned; those who defend us beggared. Not a voice in all the North will then be raised to demand the restoration of our people to their ancient rights. The most favor~ible treat~ nient proposed for them then by any NorUiemn man of influence will be so cruel that, if whispered now, it would curdle your blood with horror. Those who will think that our rebellious people deserve hell will deem it mercy to consign them ,to purgatory. But I desist; I believe that no fancy can approach the actual wretchedness of a proud, brave, intelligent people, subjugated by such a power as the North." When ])octor Fairfax sat down, Mr. Williams rose again and remarked that if no oth~r person desired. to speak he would make abrielNreply to the laslv speech. As no one else rose, he proceeded: "The right of secession has not been denied. That there are sufficient causes for it has: not been denied. That it would render our resistance t6 the North more effective by uniting the South has not been denied. That.independence of the North is the prize most worthy of our exertions when we are compelled to fight is admitted. But we are to be - deterred from availing ourselves of these advantages of secession. How? You are told that we shall certainly be conquered. If this be true, yet subjugation will scarcely be a fate more dreadful than the perpetual despotism to which we shall basely submit by remaining in the Union. At least, a gallant struggle for indepedence will save our honor-the most precious heritage of a people. But it is not certain that the united South will be conquered by the North. It is possible, but it is not even probable. We shall stand on the defensive. We have only to endure7 and page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] 80 ROEBUCK. time will exhaust 'the enemy. If our vast territory renders concentrated resistance difficult, it renders snbj ugation impossible. The native courage of our people and the spirit which the cause of liberty inspires will. overcome am immense supei~iority of mere numbers. Our fertile country au~ our laborhig population will feed and clothe our army, 80 that neither moziey nor foreign commerce will be ~so necessary to us as to the enemy. Machines and navies are less needful to us than to our invaders. Oar white popm- latien can spare a larger proportion of fighting' inen~ than that of the North, because our blacks will remain to labor. If so many millions of freemen, fighting to preserve Picir liberty and resolved to sacrifice everything for independence, shall be subjugated, the lessons of history are fabe. tat us not throw away the rich prize of success through timid apprehension of failure. This enterprise is dangerous. It must put the endurance of all Southern people 'to severe trial. Let them be sustained by the hope of independence. Since we must fight, we must incur the hazard of stilJj ng:~- tion. It is vain to expect peace until we show ourselves able to resist the North. For the sake of peace we have vainly forborne, yielded, solicited,, until we are almost dis- graced. Since we must hght, let us fight for inclepen- deuce." - After ascerinining that no other person desired to speak, the chairman submitted the resolution to a vote of the meeting. All the people responded ~' aye," except five orsix who answered"' no." Very soon after the result was announced the citizens be- gan to move out of the door, but the movement wa~ arrested by the voice of 'a boy whp sat on a table within the bar, and who began to cull out-~" Marlin : Marlin! ~ speech~ from Abram Marlin!" Such a call always finds an echo in a crowd. ~cveral voices took it up and cried.-" Marlin! Marlin! Marlin I" The eyes qf the youth who led this chorus were fixed upon a man who stood on the steps leading up to the j udi- I' flOEBUOK. 81 did bench with aleg and an arm over the banister. - He was dressed in coarse but ele~n homespun. He seemed about forty-five years' of age. His person was rather tall and lank./ His features were rough, and his hair hung do~n, long, straight and thin around hi~ neck. Under shaggy brows his grey eyes -' had a restless, vigilant motion, as if the brain was active and excitable. When the repetition of his name became emphatic, though still apparently made in jest, he withdrew his limbs from. the banister and - walked up the steps. Standing on the judicial plat- form, he turned his face to the audience with tin- moved self-possession. He. then began "I ain't a gwine to make a speech, my feller-sinners. I couldn't say much about that ore doctrine of secession, It ain't one of the doctrines that 'I'm used to preach about. I stick to the doctrines in the good book, and them doe- triucs I always try to make so 'cl'ar that the women and niggers can understand 'em. But I've been a ponderia' over this ore war in the silent watches of the night when niy Betsy was fast asleep. I've looked up the prophets on this subject . It rather looks to me like we're a gwine to fight the great battle agin Gog and Magog. Leastways that battle has never been fou't yit, and so it stands to rea- son that it's got to be fou't sometime, Now, in the thirty.. eighth chapter of Ezekielit is said unto Gog-' thou shalt come from thy place out of the North parts, thou and many people with thee, all of them riding upon horses, a great company and a mighty army.' So it stands-to reason of a - man always keeps afighthi' agin the armies that come out of the North parts, he'll be fightin' on the right side when that big he-fight of all conies off. So I've been a pondering : that I'd take a chance in this ore war agin' the North. Anyways it will-be a fight for Virginny, and that's a good- enough fight for me. Next to my God, I'd go my death for old Virginny. I'm ?ether dubous that I'm too old and rheumatized to march in the infantry, but of I had a hose 4. III page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 ROEBUCIC. ROEBUCK. 88 I'd jine the calvary. I ain't got only one hose, and that's a mule. Ef any gentleman would swap'a hoss for that mule"-- "You shall have a horse," said a voice froni the * crowd. "Then 'count me in. Doctor Fairfax says the Yankees will whip us. Well, the doctor ain't a prophet, nor the son of a prophet. Leastways I ain't seed his name thar * among the prophets. But one thing I kin tell you, and I * have Scriptur' for it, the Yankees, even if 1~hey have Gog and NEago~ to back 'em, cant prevail agin the Lord of Hosts. Let us have Him on our side and we're safe, my brethren, in peace or war, in this world and the world to come. EC we want him on our side now, we must go to war with pure hearts and in humble reliance on Eu. We must ask His blessing. Let us pray."' He knelt down, and stretched out his hands. Ifls sudden and unexpected movement, and call '~o prayer, took the people by surprise. Almost involuntarily they rose up and stood in reverential attitude, while Marlin poured fourth a brief in'i~'ocation, so fervent that his grotesque language could not prevent it from touching the hearts of men, and when he ceased a solemn "Amen" was murmured in all parts of the house. When ~he meeting was over it was foui~d that a sufficientt number of vohinteer~ had enrolled them- selves t~ constitute a company of cav~lxy, according to the laws of the State, and a t~ime was appointed f~r the election of* officers. As it was near sun~et, the people'began~ to mount their horses and start home- ward. When Hugh Fitzhugh was about to pass out of the green for the same purpose, a number of young men surrounded him, 'and shouting his name, de- minded a speech. The clamor drew others about him, and men who had mounted their horses s.topp~d "Kr 9 or turned back in the street. When he reached the to~ of a s~lle he saw a large audience standiiig in ex- pectation, and he found it necessary to~ s~y a few words. He thus addressed the people "VIRGINIANS :-.-By that title you are bound to noble thoughts and heroic deeds. The time demands them now. Discussion is ended. War is begun. The North has pressed the South to the wall. We must defend our liberty, arms in' hand, or be forever dishonored and enslaved. If there is a man among you who would surrender liberty or honor in exchange for life, 'no blood of Virginia runs in his veins, The war may be ter- ritle. The enemy is powerful and malignant. The soil .oC Virginia may be crimson with the blood of her sons and her foes. But her sons will bleed for the honor of theiR? mother. Invaders may give your dwellings to the flames; but your children will inherit freedom. When tb~ war shall be most dreadful, remember the alternative-.bondage. Look to the end-independence. Honor and shame-lib- erty and slavery-choose between them. As you shall choose, wear your fetters or your swords. Pardon 'me, Virginians-I 'know your choice is made. You are re- soWed to live and die freemen 1" 82 88 page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] ~tOEBUCK. RO~l3UCK. 85 CHAPTER VIII. PPJNIL WHEN the sun had set and all the citizens had left the village, except a few who had qualified the spirit of patriotism with the spirit of rye, three or four of the latter class sat in the 'porch of the Swan Tavern, upon a 'wooden bench against the wall. Before them * sat a young man on a large, sp1it-b~ttomed arm-chair, meaningg back against the banister, with his feet ele.. nted.' He was genteelly dressed, though his soft hat was.. crushed and drawn down over a corner 6f one eye.' He was small and slender. His hair and mus- tache were black. His heavy eye-lids hung aslant over the pupils, half closing them, and there was a sen- sual, fleshy fullness about his lower jaw%. His name was Baxter. He was the son of a gentleman of high ~character, who was the clerk of the County Court, and had held 'the office more than thirty years. The son had been carefully educated, and had in youth shown quick parts and that forwaj~d pertness which partial parents sometimes mistake, for precocious genius. When he grew up to manhood he ~ed an idle, reckless, dissolute life, studying the chemistry of juleps in bar- rooms, the mystery of horse-flesh at races, or natural history at faro-banks,' called in slang "tigers." He had dauntless courage and a sort of wit that made him a favorite in low company. He was looking out from under his heavy eye-lids at the faces before him with ~n expression that might have been serious if he had been sober, but as he was not, it was comical. At length he said, abruptly- "Bill Ankrom, I have been wondering why a fellow like you volunteered to fight in this war. You would oblige me by tolling me if you know, yourself." "To keep the Yankees from abolishing slavery, of course." "110w many niggers do you own 'C' "None 'by You know that as well as I do. But if they set the niggers free, who'll be below me ?'~ "Nobody can be lowe; I 'believe. You think, as matters now stand, a white skin is a patent of iiobiity granted by God and sanctioned by law 'C'. "Somethino' that a way, I reckon. Do you think I want my sbn to black your boots or my darter to cook in your father's kitchen 'i" "Your theory fe that society must rest on mudsill~, and if the black ones are torn away white ones must be stuck under. You are a philosopher, Bill; did you know that? It would be a .pity that a Yankee bullet should crack your craniology. But stick to your patent of nobility-you have no chance to getanother. And you, Bob Fans, are' you going to fight for~ the same reason 'C' "Well, I ain't jined yit, but I reckon I'll 'go in tor the principles of free government." "Bully for yo , Bob. ~You call a Democratic gov- ernment free, 44~i~'t you 'C' "Yes, I was born a Dimmicrat" "Wouldn't you think mea fool if I went out to fight for the privilege of kwing a batch of ~drux~keu nincompoops like you fellows on that bench to govern me? That's your principle' of free g6vernmeut.~ Zt has brought us into a pretty muss in the Thiitml ~tateL s page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 80 l~O]~flTJOK. We have tried to run a machine that cant go right unless you make thirty millions of people understand the art of government. It requires all those Yankees away up in Maine to understand the interests of all those Creoles away down in Louisiana. You see the end of it, and now you waift to fight for a free gov- ernment of the same sort. You iiiust be very drunk to-day, Bob. Now, Sim. Franks, you ought to be a soldier. Your skull is a life-insurance." "You take care of yo~ur own skull. Why don't you volunteer ~' "Oh, I intend to be a 'commissary. I ~want to be in the eating and drinking department. I'll make one big continental spree out of this war~?' "I nevei? thought you was a coward afore." "Because I am not a coward, must I fight merely for fun'?" "I've seed you do it." "Well, here is fun," said Baxter, turning ti~ look into the street. Two men there sat on horseback, fac- ing one another. They had the appearance and dress of middling farmers. One ha4 a red head and the hair. of the other was whity-brown. They had evi- dently tasted the cup which does inebriate. Haltir~g at the sanie moment, they eyed each other with drunken defiance, and then engaged in a polite and obliging conversation, whieb attracted the attention of Baxter. "Sir," said the man of fiery to~-knot, "you must excuse me, sir, but I have been credibly informed, sir, that you said, sir, you would whip me, sir, the first time ~you ~aid eyes on me, sir." '" Yes, sir; your information is correct, I am to inform you, sir." PPY ~"If you are not blind, sir, you can lay eyes on me now, uir:~ "If you will do me the favor tc~ get plr y~ui horse, sir, I wIll now do what I promised, sir." "With great pleasure, sir." They dismounted, and giving their bridles to a ser- vant from the tavern, took1 off their coats and squared themselves for a duel of fists. They approached each other with a parade of fairness and civility, though with unsteady gait. "Now strike .me, sir, if you please," said Whity'. brown. "No, sir, you are under promise to whip me. sir~ Strike first, sir." The man of tl~reats accepted the invitation, andafter a flourish of fists, discharged a blow with all his 'might. But he missed his antagonist and fell upon the ground. "Get up, sir, if you please," said he of the ~ed h~ir,' and he waited until his request was obeyed aud the other belligerent was ready for a second round. Then, with more fortunate aim than the latter, 'he sent the whity-brown head to the ground aga~in. After look.. ing at him in the dust a moment, the other walked oft' toward a grass plot beside the road, and said~'5' Come here, sir; that street is dirty, sir9" The fallen befliger.. ent. arose and followed him Then the figbt continued for some time with various fortunes, but as bokh come. batants were easily upset and. neither wou1 Istrike*~ dangerous blow, very little damage was done. At' last, whex) both were weary, and tho challenger oi' threatened was down, his adversary stood over him and said- "Now cry enough, sir.; I'm sure you've got~euough." "Never." "Then, sir, you are Irunk or. a fqol, sir. I scorn to £ght a man, sir, thaVs 'too dr~~ to J~now' whezi 1me~a :whipped, sir." page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] Having* thus spoken, he walked away toward his horse, while the prostrate combatant called after bim- "Maybe I'm too drunk now, but I'll keep sober at next court. 1I'll th~ijk you to meet me thenj." Baxter and the other persons on the porch, who had been amused spectators of the bloodless battle, now descended into the street, congratulated the gentlemen on the honorable termination of their difficulty and in.. sisted that they should shake hands and be friei~ids. Baxter, suggesting a peace-maker'perhaps on the prin- ciple of an adage touching a "hair of the dog," urged them to come bite the tavern and take a drink with him 'axTid his companions. Protest against the peace they assented to the drink. Once in the bar- room, the participants and spectators of the recent conflict discussed that affair in such fashion that another fight became imminent. Consequently ano- ther~ cup. of eonciliatibm became necessary. So they wrangled and drank or drank and wrangled, while Ba~ter'urged peace or war or whiskey, according ~to his fluctuating humor, until darkness had long set- tled down upon the vilag~. "Here comes Blind Pete," exclainie axter, s a pale, thin man, led by a little boy, ei~tered the bar- room; "come in, Fete; ~,we'll make you see stars without your eyes. Take a drink." The new-comet, nothing loth, condescended to perform that ceremony of initiation, and while he was imbibing the liquor, ]3axter said: Who's your bail now, Pete 7" "Oh, sir, I always gives the best bail in the county." "Yes, you go to jail like a rogue and are rans~med like a geutleinan, thanks to your blindness. Your blindiiess is catchh~g, 'or the gentlemen could 'not wink so at your rascalities. But who's your bail now, "Colonel Fred." "Why, it wa~ for stealing his bacon they put you in jail." "'That's the reason 'he was bound to attend to the case. You see it was his own case, lik~." "You are a lucky thief, Pete. If you had your~ eyesight you would be in the penitentiary But now when you steal, all the gentlemen feel boftnd -t. let - yen og though you own land and steal for the love of larceny. Whose corn is to load your cart to-night, Pete 7" "You always will have your joke, Mr. Baxter." "I believe I will to-night. Where's your cart 7" "At the upper end of the village." "And the blind mule with it 7 Ready, I suppose, for your nightly tramp to collect provisions and forage that the negroes steal and sell to you for whiskey." "Night, you know, Mr. Baxter, is' the same as day to a poor blind man." "Well, I am going to take a ride with you to- night. Come along, boys. We'll escort you 'two fighting horsemen on your way home.' It is time for you to go. We'll celebrate the restoration of amicable relations 'between you by a nocturnal pro- cession, with that red head for a torch-light. Pete's a dai'k' lantern and shines only in corn-cribs and meat-houses. Come on." After one more drink they all sallied out into th~ dark. When the horsemen had - been helped into their saddles, they all followed Pete to his cart. The little boy, who 'was Pete's son, being young and puny", was earri~d along 'by his father, because his tender 88 ROEBUCK. ROEBUQIC. ' 89 88 * 89 page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 9O * RO~EBtTCl~. years and feeble health secured to him impunity like that ;which Pete' himself derived from blindness. Baxter mounted the mule and ordered the rest -of his procession, except the tw~o horsemen, to get into the - crazy vehicle. " Hill, Pete," he cried, " the spine . of this mule will split my .spine North and South, as those other mules are splitting the- Union. Why 'don't you feed him better when corn costs you nothing~ but the-stealing? He' has more ears on his head than' you ever put into his trough." However, he adjusted his. posture as well as he could to the spinal ridge of the mule and began to belabor that patient ~animal with a heavy stick which he had picked up. " Go to the front, Torch-light," he cried, " the' procession on wheels will' follow." It did fob- low, b~t at a slow pace, for th~e mule did niot resent ' the heavy thwacks he 'received. Baxter, hoping to accelerate his gait, ordered his passengers to whoop and yell in his rear. But the mule never wagged an ear. With such freaks as drunken: folly prompted, they diversified the enjoyriient of their snail-like jour' neay, until at last they began to descend a bill. The force of gravity was too strong for the,lkmees of the stubborn animal, and he started off 'at a trot, to keep out of the way of the cart. Faster and faster he went while Baxter-whipped and the eart jolted and bounced-. " Look out, boys," shouted Baxter, -"IPm going to make sausage-meat of you."' This benevolent warning was .scarcely uttered when mule, cart* and passengers were tumbled cwer in. a promiiscuous wreck at the foot of the hill., "Halt in front! Bring -us the' torch- light,'~ cried Baxter. Upon a careful analysis of the inas Qf animate and inanimate wnatter, it was discov- ered that no person was hurt :beyn .some slight * bruises. A mule is more invulnerable than Achilles. The repairs of the cart detained the party some -thirty minutes. " I am glad it is no worse,".said Baxter ; " I, thought I was sending you all to Baxter's Saiints' Rest." The procession moved on until the mulestpe near a barn and refused to go farther.stpd " Whose 'barn is this, Pete i" asked Baxter. "I can't see, Mr. Baxter." " Neither can your mule see; -but .he knows the 'barn. 'Can't you tell whose corn you stole on this' .road ? I'mn sure the mule got a bite here." " Really, Mr. Baxter, I've been at so. many places' -with my cart "---- " Never 'mind ; I know this place myself now ; it's old Palmer's. I see 'we must stop with him. Come, -boys ; let's rouse him up. He is an old 'Yankee. We'll- make him drink to Jeff..Davis in some of his own liquor." :" Agreed !" was the general response' Leaving the boy with the cart in the road, the men walked 'to the house, and at their~ noisy summons a .servant, half-asleep, came to the door, and admitting them, ushered them into the parlor, where they found Mr. JPalmer and his wife. Their daughters h ire- tired, but they were waiting 'for the return of. Albert, who had gone.'to a distant part of the county. When they beheld Baxter and his retinue entering the parlor they were astounded. They stood in 'expectation of' an "explanation, which-Baxter was rather' slow to-give, 'for the unexpected presence of a. lady somewhat abashed him. In a little while he rallied, and advanc- ing with an air 'that was meant to be both stately and courteous, he offered' the, customary salutation to the involuntary host and hostess. He added: "" Mr. * A ROEBUCK. 91 page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] Palmer, I ~Va8 riding this way, and I could not think of passing your house without dropping in on you, indeed I couldn't. Knowing your hospitable disposi- tion, I invited my friends to come in with me. Let me have the honor to introduce them." He proceeded to call the roll, ana appended to each name a brief exposition, as thus: "Bob is a champion of free gov- ernment; all he.owns in the world is a principle, and he values it. aQcordingly; he'd die for itr Thi~ man with a bonfire on his head-this woodpecker has been pecking that head there that looks like dead wood, but now, you see, we are all birds of a feather and fio~k together. This is a nobleman, and he carries his patent in his face, for it was once white, but the parch- ment is now brown, which shows the antiquity of his title; he is descended from one of those old sea~. rovers who made a wharf on Ararat when the water was up, but it is not certain which of them, after~ Noah, was his ancestor. This is Peter the Hermit; he lives a retired life in day-time; he roams abroad at night, because he stands on equal rights, and he is equ4l to any of us in the dark; he has a way of equal- izing property too, by the stars "-and so on. MrLPalmer bowed stiffly to the visitors and re- quested them to be seated, he and his wife setting the example. Baxter reclined at . ease in. a large arm- chair. His followers remained standing. Presently he said: "Mr. Palmer, I was telling these gentlemen you were as hospitable as a lord."~ Either, this hint or the appearance of the guests, suggested to Mr. Palmer that they had come in to be treated and that the shortest way to get rid of them would be to treat them at once. lie said: "Gentlemen, perhaps you will do me the honor of taking something to drink with me." 92 92 ROI~BUCK. ROI~BUCIC. 03 1' "?erhaps we would," said Baxter1 I think about; ten drops &f that flue &ld brandy would be good' .against the'night air." When the host rose to have the liquor and glasses brought in, the hostess went gliding out of t1~e room. Fluttered, if. not alarmed, she had~ once or twice risen to retire but resumed her seat. Her m6vements were still rectilinear but rather spasmodic. 'When she went out the small 'remainder of Baxter's diffi~Ience also departed. When the liquor came and began to.' flow, his insolence flowed with full tiae, "I like your brandy, Palmer," he said,, slapping that gentleman. on the shoulder, "fill again." He enforced the precept by his practice, and his companions, without much urging, followed his example. Mr. Palmer would willingly have refrained, but he still hoped that every glass would be the-last, and thinking it necessary to keep the riotous crew in good humor by politeness, ~ he did not refuse to drink with them. "Take more, old fellow,.fill up; I assure you the liquor is good," said Baxter again and again. "Now, I'll give you a toast. A bumper, Palmer. A bumper, everybody) tag-rag and all. Here's the health of J~. Davisaud success to the Confederate States of Aiherica. You'll drink that, old fellow.". "Certainly, Mr. Ba.~~cter, with pleaSure," replied Mr. Palmer, and he drank with the i'est. Throwing an arm affectionately round his neck, Baxter said: "I am glad, Israel, to find you are one of us. You must volunteer, indeed you must. To your tents, 0 Israel~ You are no Yankee-.d-----ii the Yankees." "Of course, Mr. Baxter, I go with my State." "How's that? Wl~ich State? None ot your V'ankee trieka. Yo~i ~iuat have another drink~ Fill - up. I have another toast to propose." 7 gg - page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] 04 1{OEI3UCIC. * Wh~,n the ghis~es were full ho l)r~po5ed-" d-.-.n the Yankees." Mr. Palr~r set ~lo~vn his ~is~s and said, "you must excuse me, Mr. Baxter." " What! turning Yankee ot~ us ?" * "No, hut," he added demurely, "I never curse.'~ "Are you there, Israel? I beg pardon. No. gen. tleman is obliged to curse; no gentleman oitght1 to curse, though profanity is not as bad as hyprnwisy- don'f you think so, my jolly host? Well, I take back the bad w6rd and give you-down with the Yaw. kees." "I join you now with pleasure, gentlemen," said Mr~ Palmer. "But it is time for gentlemen to retire," said Bax- ter. "We have had. a good time with you, Mr. Palmer. Let us conclude with three cheers for Jeff. Davis." The cheers were given, and Mr. Palmer joined in them. The irregular .tuin~ilt of shouts roused the ladies from their beds; and thus Mr. Palmer beanie guilty of disttu'bing his family at midnight with riot - and rebellion The visitors then shook hands with bim . and: with* each other, having a confused notion that they were about to separate. I~v~n Mr. Palmer's thoughts began to thicken and jAs lips to grow purple. lie followed the ~unmarshalled array to the door, and finding Blind Pete in the rear, plucked his sleeve and whispered, "come here to-morrow." He had, some previous knowledge of that darkling rogue, by repute at least, and it suddenly occurred to him that his je~uliar qualifications might be rendered useful to himself in times of confusion. When Albert Palmer (returned home that night, di~covering hi~ father's ooud4iou and hearing, of flax- 9 44 I ./~ flOI~13UOK. ter's insolent conifuct, he was morti~led and~ enraged. Long afterwards he showed his resentful reoolrectioii of the insult. Baxter, declining to escort the two mo~ted men further, turned the cart back toward the village~ He took a seat in it with tlie others; and gave the lin~by ~which the mule was driven to the boy. Almost over~ come with liquor and fatigue, he nodded as they jogged sioyiy along. But at the end of ~n hour ho roused himself up and said-" boys we are consorting - with a thief, and my mind misgives n~e that he has stolen something this very night while he has been in our company. Our character is at stake. Pete must be searched." That landed proprietor protested his innocence, but it was decided that a search should be made. His pockets Were overhauled and very soon one of the party exclaimed, "here it is-.-~silver sugar~ tongs." The article was drawn forth and recognized as one which had been used to transfer some lumps .of Mr. Palmer'8. sugar from ~ silver bowl to The glasses which ~e drank. "1 knew it," said J3a~ter~; "now, gentlemen~ you shall sit as a jury in this ~c~se, .~nd :I'll be. the court. T~ saye time, I anticipate .y~ur verdict and pronounce sentence. Pete must be hung forthwith. If he goes~to jail some gentleman of the county xviii become bail for him and that will be the last of the affair. Justice must not be balked~~ any longer. No bail here-he is taken in the mannei~ hang him up with his own line." Pete was raggedd from the cart; the line was tied about his neck,. and Baxter started to look for a tree. The criminal knelt, prayed, whined, wept, b~t his ex- ecutioners seemed inexorable. The little boy~ cried pitiably. The tree was found andTh~ 1 passed civar page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] 063 1~OEBUClC. a limb. 13y that time Pete lay on tl~e ground, incapa- ble of speech or motion. "Now~" said Ba~xter, "you incoi~vigihle scoui~drel, you see. the end of all your crimes. Nothing can save your life but the 'mercy of 'this honorable court.i- You have stolen corn by the cart-load You have tarried away pigs, and choked the innocent creatures lest ~their piteous, cries should reveal your theft.' You have robbed heu-roo~, treacherously tickling the toes of your victims to ~!ij vent them from cackling. You have debauched tj7~, niggers, wasting whiskey on their degracThd ~oV~ls. Worst of all, you have pilfered the sugar-toPgs of a pious Puritan and compromised the characters of all these gentlemen 'who had condescended to ride in your rascally cart. What have you .to' ~ay why the sentence of death shall n'ot be forthwith executed ~?" "Spare me, good gentlemen, and I'll never "- "Make no promises, Pete. Nature will break - them. You are a born rogue. But, with the cone sent of the jury, I will postpone this execution until tomorrow 'night, at twelve o'clock." Pete sat up. "More; we will let you go free of punishment al. together.' Pete rose to his feet. "But upon this condition. You shall go to Mr. Palmer to-morrow, deliver the sugar-tongs to him,.. and tell him that you stole them, and that we com~ polled you to return them." "I will, gentlemen, I will." "I don't rely on your promise. ' But if you fail, you shall be hung tomorrow night. If you do as I command you; it will rest with Mr. Palmer to prose- cute you, if lie pleases." ~O]~BU~I~. 97' OHAPTIJL II; POOR WJ~ZT~$ ~ER RQI3~J3t~IC.' WHRN Abraham Marlin returned honie at evening from the village upon his' mule, he found his wife, Betsy, preparing the homely, supper, his sox~ Mark closing up the cooper's shop, and his daughter, ~liza, a buxom, red-cheeked girl of fifteen, milking the ~ Betsy, the wife and mQther, ~y~s a woman of large, lean frame, with a square head and features strongly marked. Plain truth ~nd decisive energy were traced in every line pf her countenance. Her dress was coarse, though neat, and her large hands were hardened by domestic industry. F6r' forty years she had.knowu' poverty without repining for a single hour. She accepted her lpt; ifl hfe~ '~4th Cheer- eulnes; ~d eneounter~d~ its 4 i~1oulties with resoiu- Lion. Her chief care, as it was her husband'& ~ was to train up her children in habits of in4u~try and virtue. The parents were both rniterat~e, but thee es~ sential principles of a good life are karned without research, and taught without books. Abraham was received jn his huu~Ae cabin with as much respect and affection as if he hadbeen the most illustrious ~f men. After supper he related to his family the events of the day at the village, but with- out mentioning the part he bad performed, except the single fact that ~he had promised to volunteer ~ a private in the company of cavalry. When be stated '1 I t page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] I 98 llon]3uc,1c. that circumstance, he looked at his wife as if he felt much anxiety to ascertain the impression it made on her mind. ~lIe was accustomed to consult her about every important step in life, but here was one, of the last importance to them all, which he had taken with.. out knowing her opinion. "You.7ve done right, Abraham," she pronounced decisively. "Well, Betsy, I thought y~u~d say so, from our talk last night, but I couldn't be ~asy in my mind till I'd tell you ~aIl about it, and heaY how it would look to you then." "You've done ~right, Abraham. li's very hard on us, but you ought to fight for Virginny." * "But, Betsy," he ~akl with some hesitation, "I've gc;t to furnish a hoss, and I've agreed to swap the mule for one." "We can't well spare the mule. But," she added after some reflection, "the ground is nearly, all plowed. We must git along with the hoe and the spade. It will be more work, but we'll do it." "I reckon you ciuld borrow ~ mule sometimes for half a day." "WeflI work, Abraham, while you fight." * During this cOnversatkni Mark was at first silent and attetitive; then he became excited and even agi.. tated. lie sat on a rough stool near the chimney. Becoming restless, he rose ~md walked to the door; then he went back and sat down. His eyes fixed with eager interest now upon his father's face, and now upon his mother's, attracted her, notice. "Well, Mark," she asked, "what are you thinking about 'C' "Can't I volunteer too 'C' he exclaimed with flash- ing eyes. IO IB UCOK I' 99 * "God bless the boy!" said the mother, "if he was a year or two older, We might h~ve two soldiers to fight for our country."~ "Older! Why not ~iow 'I I'm big enough, mother; I'm strong; I'm. healthy; I'm active. Why not now?" This was the first intimation the parents bad re-~ *ceived of Mark's vehement deske to become a soldier. The certainty of' war Was too recent to have caused much discussion in that secluded cabin, and he had not disclosed to his parents his notion. of fighting his way up to the rank of ~a gentleman whenever a patriotic war should occur~ They looked at each other in doubt, and sat revolving the question in their minds. At length Abraham said-.~ "Mark, it won't do for you and me both to leave * your mother and sister." "If our counI~ry needs you both," said Betsy, "I'll take care of Eliza, and our Heavenly Father wilt take care of us all.' "I wish I Was a man," exclaimed ti~1iz; "I'd be a soldier." "But, Mark, we ain't got but one hoss,"' said the father. "Let's see, Abraham; don't the government give hosses to the cavalry ?"~ "No; I lam the way is for every man to fetch his own hoss, and the government to pay so mu~~h a~day fbr the use of hini.'~ "Well," said Mark, after for along time on this obstacle, "I don't know how to get ano- ther horse. But, father if only one of us can go, don't you think ~rou had better stay at home and let me go? You will be of more use at home, and I can stand a soldier's life better than you." 99 page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] 100 ROEI3UeIC. "You forgit, Mark, that I've promised to ~ My word is Qut." - "I had forgot that. I reckon I'll have to give~ it up. Well, mother, I'll take care of you and E1i~a. Ill be of some use if I help you to spare father for the war. But if I only had a horse!' The next morning Mark and his father were in the little yard before the cabin, discussing a proposition which the son had brought forward, to the effect' that he would volunteer for infantry s~rvice. Tne cavalry was so much more agreeable to the taste and views of the young man that at firsl he thought of nothing else, and in the agitation of the previous evening it had not occurred to him that he conldbe a soldierwith- out a horse. But it came into his mind at night, while he lay in bed, wakefullyy turning the problem that had baffled him inside out in search of fl tion. In the morning, although' extremely reluctant to abandoxi the hope of serving in cavalry, he an- nounced his new plan. While it was under discussion, Colonel. Fairfax and his daughter Julia rode up before the cabin, followed by a servant, who led a saddled horse. They saluted 'the eider and. younger Marlin with cordial kindness, and whenMrs. Marlin, hearing their voices, came out, they had many pleasant words for her. After a few minutes had been given to the chat of complimei~ts, Colonel Yairfhx said to Abraham: "'1 heard of your remarks in the eouit-house yes- terday, and of your offer to volunteer if you could get a hGrse. I am too o14 to be a soldier myself, and I wish you to ride the horse I have brought, as my sub- stitute. We have long been friends, and I hope you will not refuse to use my' horse. Lead him up here, John." "Thank you, colonel ~ you're mighty kind; but I've made a bargain for a hoss." "I heard of that too. It was when you offered, in the oourt-house to swap your mule for a horse, and some one said you should have a horse. But your family cannot do without the male." '~My word's out, colonel." "Who was the person who promised you the horse ?" "I don't know.. I didn't see him. I jist learn his voice." "Perhaps he will not come forward with the horse." "Well now, colonel, do you think there's sich a per- son in the county? Is there any sich a gentleman as wouldn't unke his word good ?" "We cannot tell. You had better make sure of a horse. You will do me a great favor by accepting mine." "I. must let the man have the mule, colonel, ef he comes up to his bargain, and then I'll have a hoss~; much obliged to you, though, colonel, all the same. Ef fie don't comO I'll swap with you, that is, ef we kin agree." "Really, Abraham, I feel much disappointed. I wish to do something for the war and for you." While this conversation was going on, Mark eyed the horse that was in want of a rider, while he was in want of a horse, and his head was busy with the question how these two wants might be supplied hon- e~tly by one operation, beneficial to the cavalry ser- vice. Julia had no suspicion of his desire to obtain the horse for his own use, but she was always ready to say a kind word to every one. "Mark," said she, with her sweet smile, "you Will soon 'be old enough to~ fight f~r our country too, and I am suie you will be a gallant soldier.~' page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] 102 * ROEBIJOK. "I 'am old ~not'gh now, Miss Julia." "Are you ekfhteea? I am told that is the proper age." "I'm only seventeen, ma'am, but I can fight in a good cause." "You are a brave fellow, Mark. Do you hear hhn, papa V' "I do; but we must not let these bravo boys go into the army too soon. The country may need them next year or the' year after, and we must not grind the seed corn." "I believe I can stand the service, colonel," said Mark. "Do you really wish to go as a soldier ~" asked the colonel. "My mind, is made up to go, sir, if my parents consent." "'But the authorities would not let a youth of seventeen b& mustered 'in." "Do you think so ?" asked Mark, with surprise~ "I do indeed~" "Then," replied Mark, after thinking' a moment, "P11 go and light on my own .ho6k. ~ome of the boys will let me mess with them, and I can always get a gun when there is to be a battle." "Are you so resolved ~ "I am resolved to be a soldier in this war." "Have you a horse ~" "No, sir; for that reason I am going into ~the in- fantry." Would yo~i prefer cavalry service a?" "Indeed I would, colonel; I would' like it above all things." "Then you shall have this horse, since your father refuses to take him~" ROEBUCK. 103 "But I am not able to pay for him.'~ "I do not 'expect to be paid ror him. You shall accept him as a gift." "Thank you, colonel, but Icannot take him so." "Why not, Mark ?" "We don't accept gifts of such value when we can make no return. It is a rule I've learned fro my parents." I "Why, Mark," said Julia, "you are as independ-'~ ent as a-as"------ "As a gentleman, you would say, ~maybe, Miss Julia "But consider, papa wants to give the horse to the public service, not to you alone.' All hi~ property be~- longs to our country at her need. You may surely help him to us~ it for our common defence." "In any way consistent with my own honor.-4, mean no offence, Miss Julia-.-4 would be glad to do so." "Mark, you are an obstinate young fellow, and I have a mind to quarrel with you." "Not for being honest, Miss Julia; not for being independent. What are w~ to light f~r but indepenci. once ~" "Then let me sell you the horse," said Colonel Fairfax, "you may pay me for him when 'it suite you." "But I may never be able. Would it be right, colo~' nel, to take credit without a prospect of being able to pay ~ I may be killed or die in the service." "Then the horse will remain," said the colonel, half provoked and half amused ~y these objections. "Perhaps not,".replied Mark,~. "and then you would ~et nothing or my fiither ~vould distress~ himself and page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 1 04~ ROEBUCIC. ROEBUCK. 105 pinch the family to pay you. There is no need of taking these risks, colonel, for I can serve in the in- fantry." But Mark could not repress a sigh, and Julia saw * glances exchanged between him and his mother that * expressed~the chagrin of the boy and the sympathy of the woman. "Come here, if you please, Mrs. Marlin," she said, "I think you and I can arrange this matter. Men are so wrong-headed, you know. Mama owes you some- thing for weavingV' * "sot much, Miss Julia." "But we shall want niore weaving done." "I have a piece of my own in the loom that I would * sell, Miss Julia." "Then consider it sold. sow, there's your account against us for weaving, and there's the price of the piece in the loom, and there, will be the weaving ~we want. Mark, the horse is as good as paid for already. Papa consents, your mother consents-don't shako your obstinate head. Your mother shall not be dis- tressed about the little balance that will be due for the horse. You can send her your pay as a soldier, and it wrn amount to the price of a horse before you have a tempting chance to shoot or be shot at. Come, the whole business is settled between you and me, is it not, Mrs. Marlin ?" "Mother," said Mark, "do you think this would ~be r'ght?" "Yes, my son; I think we may do as Miss4ulia says." ~' Then I accept the horse with many thanks to you, colonel, aid to Miss Julia." "Oh yes, Mark, the women are worth more than_ k the men to carry on a righteous war. We have heads, Mrs. Marlin," she added, laughing and shaking her own pretty head. "And hearts, too," said, the colonel, smiling; "but now I must use what influence I can to have Mark ac- cepted as a soldier." When this sale had been negotiated with so much jockeying and feminine art, and the price-made small by more cunning mediation on the part of Julia-.had been agreed, on, Colonel Fairfax and his daughter took leave of the preaching cooper and his family. They spent a great part of the day in riding about ai~ong their poor neighbors, and distributing some of that property which the colonel held as a trust, and of that happiiiess which natures rich in cheerful goodness dif. fuse like the fragrai~ee of flowers. In the course of their ride they called on Mrs. 1~'it~hugh, the mother of Hugh, at Willosvbank, her place of residence. It was about two miles from Marlinis cabin, an~L if the reader consents to make that little journey with them, we too will 'go to Willowbank. 105 100 page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] 106. flOflBUCK. - CHAPTER x. WILLOWBANK. Trn~ visitor, in approaching the old mansion of Wil- lowbank from the highway, caught a glimpse of the 'white building through numerous trees, flecked with the opening leaves of ~pring~ Near the house a few scattered survivors of the' original forest, such as the great elm ~with triple trunk, the far~-branching' oak and round-topped walnut, stood among large old trees which, in the rings' about their hearts, kept a calendar of the age of the family which planted them. At the foot of 'a sloping bank before the mansion grow a great weeping willow, with its long slender tWigs and dark green leaves dropping in stately sadness~ The house was a long building. of two stories, framed of wood, weather-boarded and painted white. There was a wide porch along the entire front. The old-fashioned chimneys 4ere built outside, and' at each end of the house. The rooms were large and the win- dows small. In a wide hall at the middle of the build- ing' was a fight of stairs starting at one side of the hail, and near the top, making a rectangular turn upon a broad landing, with massive, square posts, heavily capped. Over the spacious Tflre~places were high, wooden mantel-pieces, adorned with an infinity, of mouldings and with rosettes 'and other figures which commemorated the taste of that Fitzhugh who erected the mansion in the last century. It was then regarded as a grand establishment, for it was finer than most ROEBUCK. 1&7 of it~ neighbors, and was the seat of one of the prin- cipal families of the county. Time gnawed. silently upon the woodwork, but in that community time wrought few changes of ideas or social relations in the lapse of only two or three generati4is. The family retained its respectability, and the house was still re- garded by all the county round as a grand establish- ment, notwithstanding that; since, a railroad was made through the county, spine antique notions had been put t~ flight, and some more costly and elegant dwell- ings had been erected in the neighborhood. The idea of grandeur attached to the place descended, as an heir-loom in the family, excluding envy of modern rivals and preventing projects ~f. improvement. The perfection even of the trees planted by a former gene~ ration, took its place among the domestic traditions, and though new ones might have improved the pros- pect, they could not flatter the pride of ancestry. The old furniture was retainedunder the influence-of simi- - lar sentiments. The tall, square,, eight-day clock in the hall, with iron weights, brass, wheels and lunar face, could not give place to a modern time-piece, for it had measured the ages of many members of the family,. second by second, from birth until jleath. The quaint old bedsteads -had beet~ witnesses of the births, bridals and deaths of several generations of Fitzhughs. In the old presses were piles-of home-made coverlets and gay silk dresses that would st~nd on end, with other relics of the thrift or fashion of a primitive aris- tocracy.. A gourd hung over a cedar-bucket of drink- ing water on a shelf at the back-door, but- there was silver in ,the side-board. The-many old things about the old house could not be exchanged for~ shining. novelties without rending the very roots of the family tree. page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] 108 ) ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK:. 109 As Colonel Fairfax and his daughter saw Mrs. 1?it~hugh, the widowed tenant of this habitation, walking in her garden with the support of a tall cane, she might have seemed a feeble wyman of sixty or more, though she was several years under three score. She was pale and thin, but her form was not bowed, and her features were strongly marked with lineaments of pride. Sh~ had, been for many years a confirmed invalid. But a vigorous ~and cultivated intellect, with indomitable will, resisted the inroads of disease, and from year to year she fought off death. The pride that was written on her brow seldom escaped from her tongue~ It was neither boastful nor scornfd. Within her breast it was strong in all forms, but ~specia'4 as the pride of family. Her proudest 'and yet her weak~ eat passion was her love for h~r only son, Hugh. The place on which she resided-~-a plantation of considerable extent-~iith fifty or sixty slaves, de~ endedd to him at the death of his father. The wick owed mother of an infant son, becoming sole guardian ~of his person and estate, devoted herself thenceforth to his nurture and education. She so managed his estate as to keep it entire and without debt, while defraying the expenses of his education ~nd travels, but a woman and an invalid could do 'no more. The slaves, missing the authority of a man above overseers, became negli. gent and some of them dissolute. The plantation needed repairs, although the grounds about the house, being under the eye of' Mrs. Fitzhugh, were kept with taste and care. Hugh, first as an infant, then as a student, and finally as a traveler, had been unable to - attend to his 'estate in person, and after his return home, he neglected it. For two or three years he suP fered 'all things to reni~n4 ~r to go backward, as if he ~. N were atill absent, whilst he amused himself with books or hunting or fishing, or any idle sport that fell in his way. Thus it was that the expectation of his frieii~s had been disappointed, and his name in the county began to wear the stain of thriftless indolence; for it was thought that his inheritance imposed active duties. His mother felt that he was sinking below the require~ tents of his name, and that the son of such abcestons as his-ancestors whom her exaggerated family pride ranked only a little below a line of heroes.-. should imitaa their useful 'and honorable lives. J~ut her affection was too indulgent to chide him and she could only wait,' as she did, for the blood to show itscit When she found that the prospect of war had roused his latent energy, and that he had' volunteered as a soldier, she suffered a violent conflict of emotions:. When he was to be exposed to the hardships and haz~ ards of war, a mother's love for an only child, her over~. ,weening care for the son whom she had reared so ten. derly. and her lonely widowhood, which might be rendered utterly desolate by the loss of him~ made the sacrifice almost too grievous 'for her to bear. Yet she 'was conscious that to see him remain at home in ignoble sloth, whileothers less nobly obliged to duty,' according to her ideas, marched to the field, would be intolerable to her pride. 'Then she exulted in the high qualities which she attributed to. his action. She was proud to 'feel that the honor of his family was vindi- cated in' him. Her devotion to Virginia, second only to her ruling~ passion, brought her patriotism to. the support of 'her pride. Though every word was as a drop of blood from her heart, yet with unwavering resolution and tearless eyes she encouraged her ~on to pt~rsue ~the path which he .had chosen. 108 page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] 110 1~OEBUOW. R'o~BucK. 111 When she entered the house and received her vis- itors, she greeted Colonel Fairfax with high-bred but rather antiquated courtesy, almost too ceremonious for friends so intimate. But she kissed Julia with frank, cordial, worn~n1y warmth. "How very glad I am to see you, my dear Julia," she said, "you always make me happy, and you, cokrnel, are kind and thoughtful in visiting me to-day. I ~egret that Hugh is not at home to see you, hut he is absent attending to the business that now engages his time.~~ * "~Y~es; his new co~npany,". replied the colonel; "I. may well call it his company, for he has been most energetic and influential in forming it and from many things which I heard yesterday, I am sure he ~vill be Its captain. Men begin already to re&~gnize in him he qualities which, they demand in their leaders.-. decision, courage, ability. I congratulate you, my dear. madam, upon being the mother of such a son." Mrs. Fitzhugh did net reply at once. The subject itself excited feelings which she could not easily con-~ trol, and the praises bestowed by her most esteemed friend upon her son melted her pride. Tears filled her eyes, and in spite of her efforts to restrain them, one or two trickled doi~n her cheeks. But she checked them and she did not again, during this interview, give wuy to maternal weakness. "I trust Hugh will do his duty," she said at last with a firm voice. "I am glad," said Julia, "to see you able to leave your room." "This is. no time to be sick, Julia," she replied; men and wOmen, old and young, we are all needed for the defence of Virginia." "That is true," remarked the colonel; "Virginia will be, no doubt, the chief battle-ground of this war, and it may be a war of many battles. I hope we shall be able to save our independence, but it must be at a terrible cost. From the superior power of the North, the South must be by far the greater sufferer. We must expect Virginia to be penetrated by invasion, and, perhaps, completely overrun. Our minds should be prepared for unliniited sacrifice." "Let it be unlimited then," said Mra. Fitz'hugh, "if the North is cruel enough to exact it and if it is necessary to secure our independence. I am ready to begin with the dearest sacrifice a mother can make." "UnfortunMely," replied the colonel, "I have iio son to offer to our country. But you and I and all who ha4 property must be prepared to part with it freel~ Even our homes may be lost for a time. Of cours~, if invasion reaches us, many of our slaves will leave us or possibly be enticed away. In other re- speets, we may hope that those who have been our brethren will conduct the war against according to' civilized and humane usage, but in respect to slaves, the origin of the war leaves no probability of forbear.. ance." "Your servants, colonel, wrn not J~eave you surely, so well treated and so judiciously ruled have they been. How can they be better off'?" "Yet many of them doubtless will hasten to the untried pleasures of freedom. They are easily. de- luded. If I thought them capable of judging wisely f&r themselves, .] would not feel justified in holding them as slaves." "I cannot consider them so ungr~tteful or so tin- wise." WI S page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] 112 .RO~BUOK. "We shall see. But if we hold nothing too dear to be given up for the sake of independence, no mis~ fortune of war can dismay us." "No Virginian, I am sure," said Mrs. Fitzhugh, "win hold an~ species of property too dear." "At least the women," added Julia, "must not shrink from the sad duties which war imposes ~on our sex. But, even yet, I hope and pray that ~om~gleam of goodness ci: impulse of remorse will avert the doom of bloody conflict from our country." "Well, Julia, you must not forget your old friend when war shall leave me lonely. Visit me often, and whenever you are with me I shall see sunshine in a shady place. CQme, I ~vill not frighten you away with my cloudy mood. Let me show you my flowers, though few of them are out yet. You: shall be as sunshine to my garden, my sweet favorite. There's s speech you would rather hear1 perhaps, from some gallant cavalier. But come along, let us be happy among flowers while we may." The walk among the Ilower4 with gay garden t~alk, whiled away half.an4xour, in which the high~. spirited old lady became lively and her visitors fell in with her cheerful humor. {- '1~OEBUOlC. 113 CHAPTER Xl. - 'rilE VOLUNTEERS. Wxn~ the company of cavalry was organized by the election of officers, Thigh Fitzhugh was chosen captain. The company numbered about a hundred, of ivhcm a majority were young gentlemen, but men ' of all classes were incl~4ed. There was one recruit whose name did not appear upon the muster-roll. Doctor Fairfax was resolved, as he said, to have a hand in the fight. But he conceived that, at his age, he might be excused from .the rigid ~efformance of all the arduous duties of a private soldier. He pro. posed, therefore, to conduct the war, for his own part, at his own cost and charge, tw an indepehdent volun~ teer, not enlisted, but under the command of captain Fitzhugh. When he proposed this. arrangement to the 4~aptain, that officer thanked him for the honoi' which it implied,. but urged the doctor to permit his friends to procure an appointment for him which would enable him to be more useful, with less fatigue and exposure. But this suggestion was flatly rejected by the belligerent doctor. He declared that his sole purpose was to fight "the Yankees" in the most direct manner, hand to hand and to the death. Be- sides, he was going in free for afrqefightand would not endure the trammels of official obligation. The captain acceded to the arrangement, but he asked, - with a smile-. '1 page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] 114 ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. 115 "how is it, doctor, that you plunge headlong into the war, while y6u preach the policy of peace ?" "The chance of shooting at a~ pack of Northern wolves, captain, would tempt any man from his con- sistency. But you know I am really not inconsistent." "You think the South i~s wrong in its present atti- tude s?" "Not wrong, but rash, captain." "You believe that we shall be beaten." "A good reason for going into the war. Help the weak-always help the weak. When we are con- * queried it will be the misfortune of the South but the crime of the North. Let me share. the' misfortune rather than the crime." "Your heart is right, doctQr, but I trust you are no prophet." And now everybody manifested a lively interest in the new company. County pride, the popular delight in military parade. , personal regard for volunteers who were* kinsmen, neighbors or friends, and the con- tagious excitement of the young soldiers, fanned the patriotic feeling into a flame of enthusiasm. Enthusi- asm carries with it an assurance of victory. The gen- eral excitement became exultant, joyous. Every one hailed his neighbor as a brother. All were sons of a State which all loved with filial devotion. The citizens regarded the volunteers with a kind of generous envy, as fQrtunate champions of a sacred soil and a glorious cause. Yirginia~-.4he South.-.-IAbe~ty.--~Independene~ were words in every mouth, and they sent every man's blood bounding along 'his veins. Women, always prone to sympathy, to social affection and to generous and patriotic emotions, became even more enthusiastic than the men 114 It was necessary that the company should be ready for active service as soon as possible. To this end, not only the officers and the volunteers but the citizens of both sexes applied themselves with alacrity and indus- try. The men were to be clothed, equipped and m~unted. Tents and ~ragons were to be supplied. It was known that the government could not instantly furnish all the military apparatus needed for the nume- rous army which was spontaneously springing into ~xistencethroughout the State. Moreover the citizexis coveted the privilege of supplying their own companies ~ot only with things needful but with articles of superfluity-articles which must be abandoned in tb~ first active campaign. Colonel Fairfax presented to the company sufficient cloth of cadet grey to make all the uniforms, and canvass enough for their tents. Other wealthy citizens emulated his liberality, either to. the same company or to others then in process of for~ nation. To make up the clothing of the volunteers all the women, black and white, brought their needles into play. For these various purposes the men formed themselves into committees, and the women ~met in societies. As Julia Fairfax showed herself not less generous among her sex than her father among men, Roebuck became a great workshop, over which she presided., Many young ladies assembled there daily, and with the help of servants, performed the work of seamstresses or tailors. As the lively spirits of the young lighten their labors, the tongues of these maid- ens kept time with plying needles, and the click of sewing..m~achines mingled with the laughter 9f girl0. The gallant defenders of their country could not neglect a patriotic establishment engaged in their ser- vice, and so the ladie~ were often favored with the 115 page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] counsel and assistance of the young men. It might happen there that the Power who "rules the court, the camp, the grove," sometimes lurked in the tan- gles of a skein or barbed the point of a needle. The official duty of Captain Fitshugh of course eare ried him to such places, and he did not fail to inspect, now and then, the work over~ which Julia FaiA'ax presided. Between her and himself there was a -new bond of sympathy in the ardent patriotism which ani- *mated both. His eloquence was kindled by themes which warmed her heart. Perhaps he was proud to show her that his life was not idly wasted -when he found an object wor-thy of earnest effort. Perhaps she felt that his awakened energy was in some degree a flattering tribute to her influence The fiery agita- tion of the time, too, tended to inflame all sentiments into passions. Friendship, cherished since childhood, night be quickly kindled to -a. warmer sentiment when sympathy and cii-cumstance &'nspired te fan the fiame.. But if their intercourse during a few days of burning patriotism impairted a passionate glow to thes friendship between Hugh Fitzhugh and Julia Fairfax, they did not acknowledge it to themselves or to each other. Duity, paramount over selfish aims, ther engaged their thoughts. When the company was ready for the march a vast crowd assembled at the village. to take leave of the volunteers. Men and women on the court green, in the street, afoot, on'horseback, in carriages, every- where, jostled one another to get a sight of the gay troop in -ne~ uiforms and on sleek, high-mettled horses, bound to the war. A neat valedictory speech was delivered by'Mr. Williams on behalf of the citi- zens. A blessing was invoked by the 11ev. Mr. I J tieRBU .R O E BU C K '17 Ambler. Cheers were given by the multitude and answered by the volunteers. Eats were tossed up ,and grey caps waved in return. Hundreds of negroes, imtative patriots, on .the outskirts of the crowd, grinned and babbled and laughed and shouted with uncontrollable enthusiasm. From all the porches, .windows and carriages, and from the court green, white handkerchiefs fluttered incessantly. Under all the clamor of cheers an attentive ear night have heard the sobs of mothers. Tears bedewed the cheeks of sis'- ters, but their handkerchiefs were used, not to dry their eyes, but to wave encouragement to their brave brothers. There were pride, joy, anguish and devo- tion in that farewell. It was not surprising that the captain and his friend, Julia, each felt -an unusual pal-. ,pitation of the heart when they w aved their final adieu . The entire march of the company to the scene of war was a popular ovation. The roads were .lined .with men, women and children, black and white, way- ing hats and handkerchiefs, clapping hands, cheering and offering refreshments. Whenever the company halted the people flocked around, to tender congratw. nation, welcome -and hospitality. They contended for the privilege of entertaining every private soldier, as well as the officers, in their houses.- No cottage was too poor to solicit such gues.a No mansion, nor bed, -nor furniture could be too luxurious for t~h use of .those dusty horsemen. No food was too delicate, no .wine too costly to be -set before them. Even their 'servants rejoiced with African glee in the abounding .hospitality which they shared. When the company marched on, the gentlemen of the county escorted -them for miles over dusty or miry..roads.: Banners 118 117 I, .1 t ) page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] 118 ROEBUCK. were presented to them by processions of ladies, and speeches addressed to them, full of grateful praise and eloquent with martial and-patriotic fervor. They fell iii with other companies marching to the field and saw the people everywhere engaged in volunteering -or preparing volunteers for service. The country was unanimous for war and independence. In the meantime other companies were formed in the county for the different arms of-the service. There was talk of forming one under the auspice~ of Albert Palmer-not of cavalry but of infantry. He bad been requested by some of the young men to volunteer in the company which was now commanded by Captain Fit~hugh, but ha evaded the request. -lie j~roThssed to think that, as cavalry was a favorite arm, -his assis- tance was no~ needed in that direction, and thi~t since many who were willing to become soldiers could not afford to furnish horses, he could be more useful in raising a company of infantry. He talked a great deal on that subject. He rode over the county. He drew up -a paper to be signed. b'y volunteers. He procured a few signatures. He made this his osten- sible -business for several weeks. Either he was not quit~ in earnest or his influence was limited. The number of his signatures ceased ~to increase, though other companies were filled up ~intil the county had furnished m~n~e volunteers than it contained voters. -His project, however, was a deeenV apology for re- maining at home, while he declaimed as a zealous Southerner and took part in proceedings designed to promote the war. He consulted with committees. lie visited the patriotic societies of~adies. lie talked of nothing but war. I-Xe was particularly regular in calling at Roebuck, 119 always expressing the deepest interest in the work of the ladies who assembled there, and seeking Occa- Sions to converse with Miss Fairfax.: When the work was finished he continued to visit Roebuck 'With equal regularity. From day to day hi~ attentions to Miss Fajifax became more pointed. At length the motive of them could be no longer nhisunderstood: tie was a hwer, almost declared. When Julia made this di~. cover she was surprised and embarrassed. She re- spected him as a fi'iend, and would willingly have spared him the pain of a distinct refusal. She en- deavored with delicate tact to discourage his suit without mortifying his pride. But in view of 'ulterior plans, he was resolved that, in this a~ir, there should be neither uncertainty nor delay. it be~uue appa- rent that he would not be diverted from pressing his suit to a speedy and decisive issue.- -At length, seiz.. ing an opportunity when she could neither avoid him nor evade his addresses, he offered her, with studied grace of manner and polish of words, his heart and hand. It she had been less agitated by the distress of inflicting pain, she might have inferred from. his polite self-possessiQn during the scene that his heart Was not to be broken by any decision she would pro~ nounce.- iBut, with modest and considerate gentle- ness, she signified to him that, while he had her es- teem,, she c~u1d not reciprocate the sentiments. which he had done her the honor to express. He did not leave her until he ascertained, to his own perfect com. eviction, that it would be useless to renew his suit. Then, with the- same 'urbanity of style, he expressed his disappointment and regret, and afterwards bade her adieu. The next day he started to Richmond. Upon his p ~1 I ii H ij page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] 120 ROEBUCl~. return fromthe capital ho informed his parents that ho was a quarter-master, with the rank of captain, and that he ~h~i4 made a satisfactory arrangement with a sl~ve4~ale~ in the city to ae~ll )frb ?almei~s negroes thei~e at auction. lie bad been assigned as quarter- master to the regiment of cavalry which included Fit2r~ht1gba company. Youug Baxter had been ap- pointed a ~~niirnssary with the same rank, and was assign~e4 to~ the ~ame regiment. Mr. Palmer, the elder, expressed nw satisfaction with all that had been done by his eon. He had but consummated plans previously settled in iarnilyi coundi. E~he father had solicited an Wfhaeuce~ at the capital to procure the ap. pointment ot 4uarter-maStOI' an appointment Coin- mended by safety and profit; an police which would serve to identify Albert with the &utheru movement, amd yet WOuld not expose him too conspicuously to NoxtberrL vengeance, in the event of adverse fortune. When th~ quarter-maSter afterwards repaired to his ~regiineut, he had not forgotten the conduct of Baxter inhisfatlier's house. ~either did he regar~1 Captain J~'itzhiigh without tea ntment~ He had watched with jeaiAfl~* eyes some of the interviews between the cap- tain and Julia at Roebuck,, and after the rejection of his ~uit,~ he concluded that he owed his discomfiture to the preference awarded to that rival. As the project of marriage had been a key t~ his principal plans with reference to the war and to his future prosperity, h~e could not forgive the suspected author of his disap- pointuient. But these feelings were unknown to Baxter and Fitzhugh, ~an4 they gave him a friendly reception. -12I CHAPTER. XII. MANASBA. Tins narrative is not designed to be a chronicle ~of military events, and it passes now to the first battle of Manassa, only for the purpose of gathering up som6 incidents which affected the fortunes of persons who have appeared to the reader. That battle, it is well known, was fought on a h~t day of July, in the year eighteen hundred and sixty-on~ between two con- siderable armies, of which the Federal was twice se numerous as the Confederate. In arms and all equip. ments the superiority was also with the larger host. The skill of the Northern generals, as displayed on that day, was not inferior to that of their adversaries. The Federals advanced to the attack, confident of suo~ cess. After a severe conflict of several hours, victory was achieved by the undisciplined valor of the South. em volunteers. Then followed such a rout disper- sion and flight of the Northern army as would have been ludicrous if so much.sufl7ering and terror could ever provoke a smile. During the engagement but little use was' made of cavalry. Captain Fitzhugh's company was for a time posted in a ravine, where they were somewhat shel- tered from the direct fire of the- enemy, while awaiting orders or opportunities for action. In this position, inactive and unable to see the course of the fight, while the roar of battle was deafening, Doctor Fairfax became extremely impatient. He w~s eager to be 8 ( 'I I ROEI3UC K. page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] 9' 'In 9 ROEBUCK. y where blows were dealt aii~d taken. With his. blood at fever heat, h~ chafed at fortune, which denied him ~n active part in the grand and exciting drama~XVhen a report came that the brigade of his friend, Brigadier General Bee, was pressed and in danger of being over- whelmed by superior numbers, he could endure in- action no longer. He applied for permission to offer his services to that gallant officer, and it was granted. He found that the situation of Bee's brigade was~ ex- tremely critical, and that every officer of the general's staff was killed, wounded or unhorsed. The general desired him instantly~~6 ride eff with an importu- nate message to be delivered to General Beauregard. The doctor started at high speed through a tempest of shot and shell in which it seemed impossible for a man or horse to live a minute. He had not gone far when he was obliged to check his horse to avoid a number of men who were bearing Brigadier General Bartow, mortally wounded, a short distance to the rear of his shattered brigade. He heard that brave and able man request these around him to lay him down and return to assist and encourage his men. "Look," exclaimed the dying Bartow, "look at those Virgi- nians under Jackson, standing like a stonewall." The doctor'~ attention, as he passed on, was thus dir&ted to that unflinching brigade of Virginians, and he saw the tall, angular form and handsome features of Jack- son, as he sat upon his horse immovable, with nothing but the gleam of his eyes to indicate the fiery energy which then reposed, like latent lightning. He and his brigade were from that day known by a name derived from the exolamatio.n of Bartow; but not until long afterwards did ~even his own countrymen recognize in Stonewall Jackson the first military genius on the "lou- tinent. r R B U C K. 123 With sobae difficulty, and after once riding almost into the enemy's lines, the doctor found General Beauregard, and delivering the message and receiving a reply; he returned to find General Bee; but he had been killed. . Seeking his successor in' command, amidst the hail of bullets and the contusion of broken, bat unyielding ranks, the doctor delivered to him the communication, and at that moment bis own horse was ahot. Being then dismissed to his proper com- mand, he made his way afoot to his company. He called out as he approached-" there is glorious ex~ citeinent up there, boyd. But the infernal Yanks have killed my horse. I must have another." "XVliat's this ~" asked one of the men, pointing at the doctor's feet. Casting down his eyes, he saw blood running from ~one of his legs. He drew off his boot and found that'~ he had received a flesh wound, of which until then- he had been unconscious. "NoiV," he grumbled as he eyed the spot, "I wonder if that Yankee expected to make veal of me by butchering my calf.'~ Chuckling, over his pun, he called for two or tluee handkerchiefs and bandaged his wound. He then renewed his demand for a horse. "No, no, my good friend," said the captain, "you must not mount again to-day." This prohibition was soon enforced by the loss of blood. The 'doctor became 'faint; and lay down upon the ground. He revived, but had to re- main there until the battle was over. When the day had been won,. Captain Fitzhugh's 'company was sent, with other cavalry, in pursuit~ of 'that panic-stricken mob which had so lately been 'an army with banners. The ~pursuit was a chase. Little resistance was encountered. The mQst frequeift im- pediments were abandoned wagons and other wrecks page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] 124 1~OEB tic IC. of a ruined host. Yet a chance shot broke t1~e left arm of Captain Fitzhugh. He continued, neverthe- less, to lead his men, gathering in prisoners and scat~ tearing still more widely and wildly the elements of~ that disastrous rout. When it was almost night, he discovered that some preparation had been made for resistance at a place where the road passed betweeii swamps and thickets, so that it was a mere defile. On a little eminence which commanded the defile a piece of artillery was pointed in the direction of the pu.rsu- ing cavalry. A Federal captain, finding an aban- doned piece there, had collected, about a hundred stragglers, and made' dispositions to check pursuit. The number of men with Captain Fitzhugh at that time did not exceed t~irenty, the rest of his company having been left in charge of captives. Halting a mo- ment to ascertain the state of affairs in his front, he dashed forward at the head of his little band. The ,Federal officer discharged the piece with his own hand, and the grape killed one and wounded two of the Confederates. There was not time, if there was ammunition at hand, to load again. The captain en- deavored to hold his men firm to repel the cavalry, but d'sl~artened by the general rout, they broke and fled. He stood alone, armed only with his sword, and dis- daining to fly or surrender, seemed determined to sell bis life as dearly as possible. ' He fell, dangerously wounded by a pistol-shot, and the cavalry rushed past him. Galloping on, they overtook an ambulance, in which were twQ or three civilians, who had come upon the field to be spectators of the gi'and Union. victory which, on ,the morning' of 'that day, the entire North ha4 expected. Whipping and shouting, they urged I ~ ROEBUCK. 125 the horses to their utmost speed, and the ambulance was bounding from side to side. At its tail hung a pedestrian; and as he ran or was dragged along with his skirts flying, he begged the other fugitives to take him into the vehicle. But he lost his hold, and fell j~ist when the Confederate captain came up, and un- able to cheek his horse, rode over him. The terrified occupants of the ambulance, seeing cavalry so close upon them, leaped out and scampered acrossthe fields. Their horses then stopped. As it was growing dark, Captain Fitzhugh hiilted * and turned back, taking with him the captured ambu-' lance. When he i'eturned to the man who had fallen under his horse's hoofs, that person still lay prostrate on his face, affecting to be dead. One of the Confed- erates, dismounting, and finding him to be alive, with- out a visible woundturned him oVer and commAnded him to get up. "0 Lord, don't kill me; I am a non- combatai~t," he bellowed. "I can see that in the dark," replied the Confederate soldier, "but you must get up and go with us." The captive, then, discover- ing the officer, cried-" Captnin.-.-Colonel---Gefleral--- I don't know your stripes, but whatever you are, I ap- peal to you as an officer. Don't let them murder me. I am only a poor newspaper devil. I am Bombyx, army correspondent of the 'New York Comet.' My name is Campbell. I just came 'here to pick up a few items. Oh, spare my life. If ~rou do, I'll give you a first-rate notice in my next letter to the 'Comet.' I'll say the reb-the South has gained the day. I'll say you gained it yourself. I'll say you killed a hundred men with your own hand. Indeed I will. I'll write anything if you spare my lLCe. The 'Comet' has the largest eireulatiQu of any paper in page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] New York-power..press, with the latest improve.. ments-tremendous advertising.--.immense subscrip.. tion list-..--O, don't let me be murdered. Poor~ ]3om'by~A" "Is the fellow hurt ?" inquired the captain. "No-yes, I think I am-I'm lame here-a dozen horses tramped on my leg." "Take him up and put him into the ambulance." When they moved on, "now," said Captain Fitz- hugh, "we must look after that brave officer who fell by the gun. I fear he is badly wounded, if not killed." They found him indeed living, but neady dead. Lifting him carefully and tenderly, they laid him in the ambulance. Afterwards they took up the body of their comrade who had been killed, and one of those who had been wounded, the other being able to ride his horse. With these and a Federal soldier whom they found lying near the road wounded, they slowly made their way through the darkness to the place where they had left Doctor Fairfax. He lay there asleep. Aroused by the noiSe of their approach, he sat up. and cried out..-." back again, boys ?-have you been to Washington City ?-did you fetch Old Abe with you ?-l~t me see his majesty." But when he was told what the ambulance contained, his levity ceasedand he expressed sincere compassion for the wounded, and sorrow for the dead. When he learned that hi~ captain was wounded, he was full of anxiety. In spite of his own wound, which had become painful, he rose to his feet and offered assistance, first to Captain Fitzhugh, and ~flen to the other wounded. At so late an hour of the night, and after such a battle, it was impossible to make immediate provision for ~ll the wounded. While a surgeon was sent for, 4 4 Doctor Fairf'ax tendered 'his services as far as they might be rendered with safety to the 'patients) by vir-. tue of his havingonce been a physician. Leaning on a man's arm, he limped to the ambulance, attended to the removal of the wounded, examined their wounds, and spent the remainder of the night in ministering to their relief. The Federal captain, as the person in most danger, received his principal care. Last of all, when daylight1 appeared, he turned his attention to Campbell, the reporter-~ or correspondent of the "Comet," who had recovered from his fright, and in full possession of his faculties, sat under a tree, leaning against the trunk, and smoking a cigar. His leg still gave him some pain, and he thought it was politic to make the most of his wound. The gray light, when the doctor approached him, revealed a person in holi day attire, bedizened with jewelry, but soiled with dirt: When he displayed his wound, the doctor curtly said, "a bruise-4-nothing but a bruise," and was walk.. ing away. "I say, doctor," exclaimed Campbell, "you are not in1 a hurry, are you ?" "I believe I hav& nothing more to do just now." "Oblige me then by sitting down beside me. I know you are tired, and I wish to have a little chat wijh you." "Certainly, sir," said the doctor, sitting down upon the ground. Have a cigar? You don't smoke? Then take a drink. You are not very well. I have a flask here in my pocket.. You won't drink? The brandy is ex- cellent. I bought it in New York. I'll tell you where you can buy the best cigars and brandy when you go to the city. You" 126 ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. 127 127 126 page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] 2~28 IIOEBUCK. * "I thank you, sir, but I don't expect to be in NeW York very soon." "But information is always useful. I pick up items wherever I go. Ii' would like to get a few from you now, doctor. I am Bombyx, the army correspondent of the 'New York Comet.' Bombyx is Latin you know for silk-worm. Capital name for a correspond- ent, eh? They say we spin our yarns out of our own 'neads'-4ui~ ha, ha!" "The Yankee imitation of a silk-worm--a caterpil- jar," said the doctor to.himsel±; but he said aloud, "i presume you have no further occasion for my pre~ Beflce." * "Dorct go, doctor, don't go. I want to discuss with you some points of interest to our common country." 4 "What countryman are you ?" said the doctor~ "An American, of course." "But I am a Virginian." "It's all one-Virginian and American." "There was a questionn about that discussed on the battle-field yesterday." "Now, it is the war I want to discuss with you, doctor. You rebels-but excuse me for calling you a * rebel-no offence, I hope ?" "Rebel! A solecism indeed to speak of the rebel- lion of a State. But rebel V It is the most popular epithet in the language. Governments have always endeavored to make it infamous, but they have only made themselves odious. History is the pillory of governments. Rebellion ~lways implies at least one virtue-..~ourage. Three-fourths of the rebellions have been right, and seven-eights have been applauded by mankind. if you would flatter me, call me a rebel." 28 I; g) I 4" i 4 ROEBU~K. ~'You have odd notions, doctor." "Odd in thi's country'! What would America have been without rebellion ?" "Well then, you rebels must acknowledge that the government of the Union is the best government the world ever sa~v." "You will be equally polite, of course, and acknow- ledge that this is the best rebeUion the world ever saw." "But I am in earnest, doctor." "So am I. You of the North may praise a govern- ment that serves .your interest. We of the South must praise a rebeliofl that is designed to save our liberties." "Speaking of liberty, doctor, I would like to discuss the subject of slavery~ You know our government is pledged not to interfere~ with slavery, but if you Southerners had correct views on that subject I think we could soon have peace. Now I am thoroughly acquainted with the subject and would plain it to you." "Have you lived among negro slaves '?" "No, I never 'was in a slave-holding State before yesterday. I lost my liberty the same day I entered *one-.~.-ha, ha, ha I" "Your views of slavery must be interesting." "I believe they are. Now I can convince you in. five minutes that slavery is wrong. Thus: you wills' admit that by nature all men are equal." "Excuse me-not at present." "You don't admit first principles! I~hen it is use- less to argue with you." "Very probably~; but I prefer not to admit as .a fact that which my senses contradict. I cannot see 129 page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] ROEBUCK. 131 130 flOEBUCK. that .a white man and a negro are by nature equal." "Why, it is laid down in the Declaration of Inde~ pendence." "So much the worse for the Declaration, if it is not true." ~' You blaspheme that sacred insVrument." "I worship nothing under heaven. The Declara- tion of Independence was a glorious event-it was a rebellion-but its glory may be due rather to the sword of Washington than to the philosophy of Jef- ferson." "Why, sir, it is the great end of all the modern improvements in political science to m~e men equal. I have written a treatise to prose it. J .1 wish I had brought you a copy." / "Thank you. I'll give you a hint for your next edition. If you wish to equalize two races whom nature has made unequal, you have only to degrade the higher. It is an easy process. They have done it in Mexico-a country that can do nothing else." "You jest at everything, doctor." "Why should we wrangle over questions which the sword is to decide i?" "Then let us talk about something else. I love to talk." Campbell then launched forth in a long harangue which kept Doctor Fairfax listening with amusement and wonder. He talked of the battle, of his family,, of the Federal generals, whom he called by their Christian names, as familiar acquaintances, of news- papers, of strategy, of boots, of ladies, of foreign nations, of everything, with a volubility that knew "no retiring ebb." His style was similar to that which he used in corresponding with the "Comet." He 4 introduced every topic, as it were, with a great head.. ing displayed in capitals. He magtiified petty details with astounding ad He spurted out every sentence as if it was designed to make~a sensation, and he gesticulated inteijections and marks of exclamation. lie tripped through the gravest questions with a jaunty, flippant, knowing air. His statements of facts, tricked out to shine, were marvellous travesties of truth. He predicted futt~e events like a prophet or a spiritual rapper. He made it his business, as he modestly observed, to know everything. Dr. Fairfax had found a character quite new to him., Surely, he thought, nothing like this ever grew south of Mason and Dixon's line. What impudence! he said to himself; as the harangue went on: what flip.. pancy! what prevention! what vulgarity of soul! what ambitious and meretricious rhetoric! what a liar! Thus with inward comment he sat studying this novel specimen of humanity. The interest of the study inspired him with a sort of liking for his sped- men. He began io covet it as a natural curiosity. This, he thought, was "a Yankee of the Yankees."~ He hated .that tribe in the mass, but individually, he never could hate any man. Finally lie interrupted the dis- course. "Come, Bombyx, my Northern light, my polar star, my epitome of all Northern intelligence, my live Yai~kee, come9 let us look out for breakfast." "A capital thought, doctor, ha, ha, ha !" After feasting his communicative guest with'the best scraps he could scrape together at such a time and place, Doctor Fairfax again visited the Federal officer. lie learned from him that he was Captain Ti'em~.ine, and that he had been an officer in the regular army of page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] R OE BU C K. R BUK18 the United States before the war. He appeared to be a gentleman, and his conversation..increased the inter- est which his suffering awakened. But the doctor did not suffer him to talk much, and as soon as it was. practicable, he had the captain, as well as the -other wounded, provided with comfortable cots and tents and with proper attendance. The drenching rain that day fell on many~unsheltered men, the living and the dead, the wounded, the weary and the sick, on .the wide plain of Manassa. I CHAPTER XIII. A DUEL. I I I I .1 IN the evening of that rainy day they buried the soldier who had been killed, as already mentioned, by a grape-shot while engaged in the pursuit. At this early period of the wvar death had not lost its awe by familiarity. When single man of a company fell in battle, the event impressed the minds of the survivors with almost as much soiemnity as 'a death at home before the war. The body of this soldier was followed by most of his comrades in the company, with every demonstration of respect that circumstances permitted, to a -small grove of stunted trees where a place of burial had been selected for some of the Confederate dead. The melancholy solemnity of the scene was deepened by the gloom of the slky and of the neigh- boring battle-field, yet encumbered with dead and dying. When they had fulfilled their sad duty the men in attendance were about to march away, when Abraham Marlin, the preaching cooper, stepped for- ward and touching his cap, requested permission to say a few words. H~e remarked it was a pity any human being should be buried without some religious service. He knew a chaplain could not be h ad when so many dying men required their attendance on them. But he thought some one might offer up an humble prayer at the grave. This suggestion was received with silent acquiescence, but all eyes looked around for the person who night perform the proposed ISS page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] service. Abraham, seeing that no other person was willing, felt that it was incumbent on himself to dis- charge the duty which he had proposed. He there- fove walked to the head of the grave, took off his cap, lifted up his hands and began to pray. In common affairs which belonged to every-day liTh he was sensi- ble and his language was direct and simple. But when, from religious zeal, he aspired to performances which exercise .the higher faculties of educated men, he floundered into absurdities of thought and lan- guage which were almost profane in spite of his sincere piety. On this occasion he soon rambled into a kind of funeral discourse upon the life and character of the deceased, such as can scarcely be imagined without the aid of a specimen: "We lay his mortal body in the dust-leastwaYs it was dust before the rain. We pray that his immortal soul may go where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest, that is if it ain't popish to pray for his soul when he's dead and buried, and if it is, we ax pardon and take it back. He was a mighty * good yonng man as we knowed him at home. He was a mighty brave soldier. He fou't in this 'ere great battle agin the great company, the mighty army that come out of the North parts which we've whip- ped and put to flight, only a good many of' 'em was killed and wouldn'tt fly. He was killed suddenly in pursuing! of 'em when the big fight was done fou't, and it was a pity any more men was killed so~ late in the evening . He' fou't in that battle when'7h~e wasn't able to fight by good rights, because he'd been running' off ~with chronic diree for most a month. But he wouldn't stay back. He was a willing' and a brave man, and he wood a f~u't agin in' the next big battle, eP any mOre mighty armies come out of the North parts, providing' the diree didn't take him off in the eend." But after some time the pious cooper dropped this rambling discourse and gave, in homely but sensible language, expression to those genuine emotions which good men feel when they stand in the presence of death a~d before the Ju4ge of quick and dead. When in the midst of his uncouth dialect his memory sup- plied some of the affecting phrases 'which the scrip-. tures lend to the expression of personal piety or the sublime imagery with which they allude to the worlI beyond the tomb, he seemed almost eloquent. His pathetic earnestness melted some of the soldiers around him to tears. They indeed did not smile at those absurdities by which he made sacred things appear mean and ridiculous, for besides the sadness of the scene, they respected the preaching ~cooper as a sin- cere, faithful and brave man. His piety silenced their censure, even when hi~ presumption might have shocked them. An hour after the conclusion of this scene, Captain Palmer, the quarter-master, sat in the door of a tent' conversing with a person~who was present battle grave' about the strange proceedings of the extempore chap-. lain. "Abraham Marlin is a pestilent old fool," said Palmer, in a loud tone. "Was that meant for my ear ?" asked a young man who was passing the tent and who turned abruptly to Palmer. "' Who are you ?" rejoined~ the latter. "I am the son of~Abraham Marlin." "O,.Mai'k Marlin!' I've heard of you.' I repeat what I said, and this time for your ears. Abraham Marlin is a pestih~nt old fool." "It is false, and no gentleman would say such a thing about any man to his son." 1.84 ROEBUOE. flOEBUC K. 135 184 135 page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] 186 RO B B.U C K. A- "Sir, you are a private. I am an officer." "I knew that, or I could not have answered you with words." "Do you threaten me, sir ?" "As you talk about your rank, I can say no more; but I will say again, you are ,no gentle ." "I'll have you punished, sir ; I'll have you punished for your insolence." " Then you must e4ose yourself," said Mark Marlin as he walked away. * Palmer had fallen into this foolish altercation; be- cause he had conceived the absurd idea 'that, among. soldiers, he must support a reputation for soldierly bearing by blustering rudeness~ and feared he might sink in the estimation of his companion if he made any concession to Mark Marlin, after proclaiming his opinion of Mark's father. Later in the evening Palmer was in the tent of BaxEer, the commissary. That functionary was pre- sent, acting as host, and his guests, besides Palmer, were Dr. Frank, a surgeon, a young lieutenant, Pot- ter, and two or three other officers. They all sat on* stools or the host's bunk. ~~On a rough box, which served for a tahie, stood a bottle, two tin cups and a tallow candle stuck in a block of wood. Baxter was entertaining the others with noisy hilarity that smacked oI~ the bottle. J)r. Frank was silent, sober and surly. He was a bachelor of fifty, with heavy,* grey mustache and shaggy brows, lie had -served long in the Federal navy, and. was reputed to be very skilful in his profession. He was as gentle as a woman with the sick, but crusty with men who pre- sumed to enjoy go9d health. He was a sworn enemy of all soldier& who attempted to shirk from duty I. 1~O EB U C K. 187 by feigning sickness. He had a habit which made his -scanty conVersation consist mai~ily of oaths. "Drink, gentlemen," said Baxter, setting an .exam~ pie, "drink. I can recommend my commissary stores. This Co federated whiskey is an excellent summer drink. It would cool a fever. - It is better than sher- bet for this warm weather. Doctor Frank, you shall take some of my medicinal water." The doctor growled out a refusal with an oath. "Don't swear, doctor, don't," said Baxter. "That reminds me, gentlemen, you have been talking of the preaching cooper. Now I'll tell you an anecdote of a preacher and Doctor Frank. The doctor, you know, swears more oaths than the Yankees. prescribe to the rebels-if that's possible. Well, a few days ago, being scarce of tents, I suppose, they billetted a chap- lain on our swearing friend, and the two have had to sleep undor the same canvass. It is the surgeon's habit to stand at the door of his tent at an early hour every morning, to hear the applications of soldiers for certificates of ill health to excuse them from fatigue duty for the day. He thinks most ofthem are shirk.. ing, and he curses those fellows high and low, in or- der, as he says, to maintain discipline. Two~ or three mornings since, I was passing and saw the doctor at his levee. He had been up all night with a poor devil who threatened to slip through his fingers, and his nerves, no doubt, Were more irritable than usual. He believed that the entire bevy of applicants were shirkers. lie looked at them with brows like a jagged thunder-cloud. He compressed his lips ~as if he was holding in a young earthquake. Suddenly he turned and looked in at the bunk where the, chaplain lay. ~1'hen he turned to scowl on the shirkers. Again be page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 4; 138 ROJ~BU OK. peered in at the chaplain, ai*L again turned to the waiting crowd. Then burst out the earthquake. 'By-,' he exclaimed, 'I will swear-I must main- tain discipline-I have not cursed these fellows for a week, and now they are all shirking-what's a preacher? he's only a man-'I will swear.' Well, he swore. All the oaths that he had corked up for a week, from respect to the clergy, rushed out in one volume. He scattered that squad of shirkers faster and farther than the Yanks were routed yesterday." The surgeon swore a little, and the. others laughed, except Palmer. "Why don't you laugh, Palmer? That was a good story," said Baxter. But the quarter-master, perhaps, was not in a merry mood that evening, and he had a recollection of one of Baxter's practical jokes that disinclined him to ap- plaud the commissary's wit. He replied "I am not bound to laugh, am I ?" "Everybody but a churl laughs at a good joke in jovial company. * "Profanity does n~t amuse me. "0, Puritan 1" cried Baxter, with a sneer. "At all events, I am not a buffoon," retorted Palmer with a scowl. Baxter instanay rose and slapped Palmer's Thee with his open hand. The latter stood a moment white with i'age, and then saying, "you shall hear fron~ me, sir," he flung himself out of the tent. "Let's take another drink," said Baxter, resuming his seat. But his visitors declined the. invitation and took leave of him. They anticipated the consequences of the quarrel. They condemned the conduct of Baxter, but they did not esteem Palmer. They con- J~) L~Vi~BUU1i, 139 sidered that the affair between them had proceeded too far to be stopped. Blood for a blow, was a maxim. that permitted no pacification at that stage b~* the me- diation of friends, according to their notions. Nothing was left for them but to stand aside, and let the affair take its course. When they had left him, Baxter sat looking at his bottle for some time, and then said to himself-..." Now, there's poor Corporal Jones would be the better of a few drops of that liquor. I'll go to see him. I expect he'll die to-night. I'll help him to go off the hooks easy." He filled the bottle and started out with it in his hand. It was near midnight when Palmer entered the tent of Lieutenant Potter, who was then asleep, and asked him to get up. "Mr. Potter," said~he with agitation, "I want your advice." "About what O?~~ said Potter, turning over and yawning. "About that affair." "Oh-..-ah--.yes," replied Potter, rubbing his eyes, you mean that affair with Baxter," and ~ue yawned again. "Yes. What ought I to do ?" "Don't you know ?" "Really I do not." "Then you are a fool," said Potter, and he turned over to sleep again. "But, Mr. Potter, indeed you must advise me. I am in trouble. I have no friend here to consult with -do advise me." "Didn't you threaten that he should hear from you ?" "Well?" "Didn't he strike you ?" I page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] 140 ROflBUOK. "Yes." "Don't you intend to challenge him V' "It is on that point I want advice.' I am consci~. entiously opposed to duelling." "Did you ever tell anybody so before ?" "Well-no-I believe not." "You have allowed it to be understood that you ac- - knowledge ~the code ~" '"Perhaps I have, thoughtlessly." "Then you are thoughtful too late. Ifa gentleman is only known to be religious and 'consistent, he may~ decline a duel without disgrace: Such a man is sel- dom insulted and never insults. But if a man becomes conscientious only when there is a pistol in view, peo- ple draw ugly inferences." "' You think then that I must challenge him ?" "I have not said that. I have not undertaken to advise you. We are almost strangers to ea9h other. 1 can have nothing to do with a duel without resign- ing my commission. You must excuse n~e." "To whem can I apply. I am much distressed." "I can find you an adviser. Bullitt, from Rich- mond, is now in camp. He~ is the very man for affairs' * of honor. He knows all about them. He studies them. lie practices them. he'd rather be invite~1 to. a duel than to a dinner. He will be glad to advise you and act for you too, as your friend. He is like a Quaker, a friend to all the world. Come along, I'll introduce you to him." During this speech Potter got up and put on his clothes. At the end of it he started out of the tent, followed by Palmer, who felt but little encouraged by the character of the friend, he was about to meet, as sketched by his guide. He was dragged onward, RO]~BUOK. 141 however, by the circumstances of his position and by his fear of losing caste among young men of spirit. Through the mud and darkness Potter marched on inexorably, and Palmer trudged after him in rueful silence. At length they arrived at a tent 'in which Mr. Bullitt, the man of honor, was lodging as the guest of friend. Potter called him, and as soon as he was awake, signified to him that an officer desired some private conversation with him. With great alertness he sprang from the cot on which he slept and briskly stepped out of tl~e tent. rotter announced his own name, for they could not distinguish each other in the dark, and then introduced Captain Palmer. lie in~ formed Mr. BullitV that the captain 'was involved in a delicate affair and' needed a friend. "I have taken the liberty," he added, "to recommend him to you and to assur~ him that you would not' refuse him the favor he desires." "On the contrary, it will afford me pleasure to act as a friend of any friend of yours, Mr. Potter," said J3ullitt. "Then, gentlemen, I may leave you together; good night, gentlemen." i~3ullett, by ,a few rapid and decisive questIons, drew from Palmer the material oircumstance~, and then bounced into the tent, where he got a match, lighted a candle, drew forth 'paper, pen and'i~ik, placed them on a board upon hi~ knee and began to write. Palmer could then see that he was a small, withered mail, with no clothes on him but a shirt-and pantaloons, i~ r~d night-cap, with a huge tassel, and muddy bo&ts, hastily pulled on so as to carry his wrinkjed panta- loons with them up to his knee~ He had a peaked nose, little' gli8tening black eyes and a long~ heavy page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] 142 llOEflU.OlC~ mustache, which, like his hair, had been black b~ut was somewhat grizzled. He moved' with quick, decisive energy, and wrote with furious rapidity. In a few minutes he produced two documents, and requested Captain Palmer to sign them. One was a resignation of his commission -a~ quarter-master, and the other a peremptory challenge to Baxter. Palmer read them over and signed them, not knowing what else to do. He had expected his adviser to offer him some advice, but the artificer of duels had not imagined that there could be a doubt in the mind of any one 'as to the proper course to be pursued. "Now, Captain Palmer," said his friei~d, "Twill forward your resignation to the adjutant and I will deliver the note to Captain Baxter forthwith. You can lie down and refresh yourself with sleep. I will .. call you when you are needed." Palmer was not very sleepy at that moment. He looked at Bullitt while he jerked on his coat, flung aside liis~ night-cap and covered his head with an old- fashioned cocked hat, which it was his fancy to wear. They then walked together to the 1uarter-master'~ tent, and Bullitt, having obtained the information necessary for finding Baxter, went on alone, while hi~ principal stood wondering how soon that brisk step oI his second would bring him back with an announce- ment that all things were ready, ana Captain Palmer was to be shot at without more delay. Bullitt found the commissary'~ quarters, but Baxter was not there. After satisfying himself of that fact, the faithful, friend, not knowing how to find the adversary except by waiting for him to return, began to pace backward and forward before his tent like a sentinel. He kept~ up that oscillating march with exemplary perseverance flO13~BUCK. 143 until day was breaking. He then discovered a man passing not far from him, and approaching the passen- ger, he inquired ;if that person knew where Captain Baxter might be found: "Come with me," replied the man,, who happened to be Doctor Frank, on his. way to visit Corporal Jones. Bullitt followed, until they arrived at the entrance of a tent, where they paused in consequence of what they saw and heard. Within the tent Baxter was standing over a cot occu- pied bya sick man, and as he arranged the pillow, he said-" now, Jones, I am going to leave you, old fel.. low. The surgeon will be here in a few minutes." "0, captain," said the sick man, feebly, "I am so much obliged to you for staying with me all night. You have done me so much good. I had not laughed before since I was taken. sick." "You are going to be well soon. Keep up your spirits. I'll put this bottle under your head to keep your spirits up. This is the great medicine after all. It beats the doctors and the quack pills to boot. I would have been under the ground long ago if I had not been drunk half my life-or half drunk all my life. I am not sure which is the best division of time. I believe if a man was kept drunk all day and half drunk all night it would be a pretty even divide. Don't you feel better now " The patient laughed. / The surgeon then went in, and Baxter, after making a brief report of~ the sick man's condition during the night, went out of thetent. Bullitt met him, touched his cocked hat, and said, "Captain Baxter, I believe'? Mr. Bullitt. I am the bearer of a message for you, sir. May I see you at your quarters'?" "I am going there~ But you may save time by page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] 144 ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. 145 delivering thft message at once. Is it from: Captain Palmer?" "Yes; this is the note, sir." "What does he want V' asked Baiter, taking the 114te but not reading it; "does he want to fight 'I" "Precisely." "Mery w611; bring him along." "How do you mean? Please refer me to your friend, captain, to settle the necessary arrangements." "I am my own friend. We'll settle the arrange~ ments~s we w~i1k to the groundd. I have pistols in my tent-or you may bring yours." "I do not; understand this mode of proceeding.. You seem to~be jesting. But I'll wait until you have read the note and written your answer." "I won't wait. ]I've'been up all night and I must have a nap before breakfast~ This affair must be dis. patched at once, so that I may go Co bed." "Surely. you jest, sir. This is a' grave affair." "It may be grave efl9ugh for your friend, if I can steady my hand this morning." "But your' friend-you will refer me to your friend.!" "I have no friend. I want no friend~ I have no time to be looking for a friend now." "You will not go i~o the field alone ?"' "I hope to see you there, if not Palmer. Come along." "But, sir, this is irregular-absolutely contrary to all rule. I protest"- "Mr. B~ullitt.--I think you called yourself Bullitt ?" " That is my name, sir." "Do you. see that clump of trees, with a tall pineiiz tb~ o~tw~4h~ ab~~t.'two ntiisa offY' "I see it." "I shall be there-.-just beyerrd that olump of trees in forty minutes. If you and your principal are not there within an hour from this time-it; is just five-. you must take the consequences. Weapons-.-pistols~ Distance-ten paces. Good morning, sir." "Stop, captain," cried Bullitt, following him as he Walked off, "this is most irregular. There is no pre.. cement for it. Two against one! You on the ground alone, and ~he other party with a friend! It will be murder." "Murder, when I shoot your principal? You. can take care of him, Doctor Frank, I dare say, will go with us if you askhi~tfr "~' "With whom shall ~negotia~e-a~g4 I'm shocked. This proceeding is out of all rule. Two against one! It will never do." "Well," said Baxter, "since you are shocked I will compromise the matter. You. shall act as th~ friend of both ~parties." "I don't understand that at all. That's irregular too. Can I arrange terms with myself? Can I agree with myself? Can I adi~ise one party that he shoi44 be satisfied, and the other that he. should not? 'Must I ask myself a question from one side, and answer it myself from the other? Can I"-~ "Goed morning; Mr. Bullitt In fatty mimites" "Heavens! what shall I do? Such .an irregi~ilar party! Must I abandon my principal and ge half over to the other side? Stay, Captain Baxter," he cried, running after that irregular party, "Stay. This g. fair must go on some way. If it must be your way' I am not responsible. I protest, but ti~der prQt~at, I consent to aet as t~ie common friend of botl~. prin page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] 14~ ROEBUCK. "All right. Be quick." "I'll ~hring my pistols.' I always carry a beautiful pair." - "Very well. We'll choose between yours and mine. When Bullitt made known the arrangement to Palmer, the latter was fluttered by the precipitancy, of action, and objected to the part assigned to Bullitt, -as neutralizing his second. On that ground he was inclined to break off the affair. But Bullitt declared that it could not be broken ofF without everlasting dis- grace. It must go on, ev.en in ihis irregular fashion..' Being' thus pressed, and having neither experience nor counsellor to guide him to a loop-hole of retreat, Palmer ceased to object. When the pistols had been ~rooured, he walked to the appointed field, escorted by his second-or halPsecond-and attended by Doc- tor Frank, with a very alarming ease of instruments under his arm. When.they reached the ground Bax~-- ter was there, lying asleep on the grass. After waking him, Bullitt selected the pistols, chose the ground and measured the distance. With a comical 'air ~of per- pl'eicity he tossed up with himself for the choice of position, and arranged with himself'all the prelimina- ries in the most formal 'manner. He was repeatedly embarrassed, by his neutral or equivocal- relation to the parties. After placing them in position, and giv- ing them their weapons, he paused and gravely ad- dressed them. "Gentlemen, I must now formally protest in pre- sence of you both, as I have protested to you seve-, rally, that the mode of proceeding adopted on this oc- casion is entirely irregular. I have acceded to. it only from necessity. I will not be responsible for the con- flOEBUCK. . 14~ sequences, and I protest that this case shali never be drawn into precedent with my consent." When he gave the word, the combatants fired al- most simultaneously. They both remaine&standing after the exchange of shots. Bullitt, looking first at one, and then at the other, from his post, which was equi-distant from them, was again perplexed., He deemed it his duty to approach his principal, but which priiw~ipal first? One reason.came into his head for rendering his first attention to Palmer, but another reason immediaI~ely claimed that preference for Bax- ter. He started towards the latter, but halted and turned towards the former. After one or two more such zigzags, he threw up his hands in despair, and darted at Baxter~ - "Are you hurt, 'Captain Baxter ?" he cried. "No," said Baxter, quietly, "neither of us is hurt. I raised the dust from his pant~, but my ball struck the ground ten feet beyond him. His ball struck that weed aboi1t a yard from me. I saw it shake." Bullitt Avent to Palmer, who, though not very cour- ageous, had pride enough to carry him thus far though the scene with a fair show of' firmness. Having ascertained that he was not hurt, the impar.. tial second retired a few paces 'to consult with him- self as to the proper. step forhim next to ti~ke. While he pondered, he was reloading the weapons.' Sad- denly he was startled by a cry from Palmer.-" a con- stable, a constable." Repeating these words, Palmer started from his post, walking rapidly. "&opg" said Bullitt, "there is no constable about here !" But Palmer quickened his pace to a run, while the second shouted after him frantically.-" stop; come back, fool, coward, poltroon, come back, I say." But faster and page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] I 148 ROI~l3UOK. faster the fugitive ran, Ufltji he disappeared in a wood. "Why, it's Hugh Fitzhugh," said Baxter, pointing at a man who was approaching them, and who had been seen first by Palmer. Some duty had brought Captain Fit~liugh near enough to the spot to hear the sound of the pistols, and thinking it was some alarm or 'irregularity of pickets, he hastened in the direction of the sound to learn th~ cause. As he came for- ward, Bullitt said-." Captain Baxter, I' am deeply mortified at the conduct of my first principal..' But, * of course, I take his place now. With that view you will excuse me, I am sure, for reassuringg entire my original relation as his second. I trust, sir," he con- tinued, addressing Captain Fitzhngh, "although I have not the honor of your acquaintance, you will oblige us by performing for Captain Baxter and my.. * self the part which I had undertaken to perform for him and Captain Palmer. It is very irregular, I ad- mit, but necessity may excuse it. Captain Baxter, does this meet your approbation?" "What does all this mean " inquired Fitzhugh. "ill tell you," responded. Baxter ;." this geutlemiui .-.-.Mr. Bullitt, Captain Fitzhugh-desires to exchange shbts with me and' I have no objection. You will stand by and' see fair play." "I'll do no such thing. This follymust stop here." "Of coui'se," ~said Bullitt, "such an affair must come to an untimely end when a third party steps in t~ interfere with it. But I protest "-.-.~- "Never mind your protest," interrupted Baxter, "let's go to breakfast." "Now," said Fitzhugh, after he had, by inquiring of Baxter, learned some particulars of the affiuir, "let us agree to say nothing of Palmei~s couduot. Jt ROEBUCK. '49 would injure him and do no good. He is new t~ such t.hings." ~.. "0, he has carried the matter to e m - hi3 heels," replied Baxter, "but I shall say no' in about it." "I am not sure what I shall do about this affair," said Bullitt, testily; "the whole business has been so irregular that I don't know whether I shall allow any gentleman to allude to it' in my presence withQut giv- ing me satisfaction. I must look up the autkoritie. before I commit myself~"' The three walked together towards the camp, an& after gqing some distance, Baxter exclaimed-." the surgeon! we have forgotten the doctor." He h6'sa~ in the clump of trees during the proceedings. Tmii~ big back, they saw him marching along behind then~ and looking very~surly. The~r waited for hix~i, and as lie approached, they heard him growling and cursing. '4llumbug," he grunted~ "humbug......no need of ~ surgeon for this party "-with an appendix. of oaths. They spoke to him and endeavored to apologize~ for leaving him, but he gave neither heed nor z~epIy. lie marched past, muttering the same contemptuous oaths. Palmer did not halt until he found himself five or six miles from the camp. Then he sat down upon a log and held a council in his own bosom. He re- flected that the failure of his matrimonial project had cut the principal tie whi~h bound him to the Southern cause, and now if he returned to the army, he thought he must encounter disgrace on account of this morn~ ~ing's proceedings. His commission and his character. were gon:e. lie began to recall the obligations of birth and to 'spccuiat~ upon the chances. of improving his condition by transferring himself to the North. Upon this theme he sat musiug along time. page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] 150 RO~BUCK.~ 151 /. - *! dl;; CHAPTER XIV. ROEBUCK AFTER M.ANASSA. * FROM various causes the camp at Manassa proved to be unfavorable to the recovery of the sick and * wounded. In two or three days after the battle, Doctor Fairfax became satisfied that if he remained there his wound, already showing unpleasant symp-. toms, would be slow to heal, and he decided to return home for a time. Not being an enlisted soldier, he obtained permission without difficulty. In the mean- time he had been almost constantly with Captain Tre- maine. Sympathy and respect rapidly ripened into friendship for that gallant and unfortunate gentleman. * The doctor became so warmly interested in his re- covery that he desired to take him t~ his own house, where he mig~it have the benefit of such nursing and care as a camp could not afford. . When he invited the * captain to accompany him the wounded prisoner was very grateful. Through the exertions of Doc~r Fair- fax and Captain Fitzhugh, the consent of the proper authorities was obtained. The prisoner's condition was very critical, but as the journey was to be almost entirely by railway, it was hoped that he would be but little injured by removal, under the judicious .care of the doctor. Being among strangers, the wounded * man naturally found some comfort in the society of a person from his own country-and of his own political 8entinwflts. He~ had, therefore, taken some pleasure in the presence of Campbell, and, perhaps at the * sug- ROEBUCK. gestion of that modest gentleman, h6 expressed, with apparent hesitation, a desire that his Northern country- man should accompany him, if that should be found pracl5ieablc and was agreeable to Doctor Fairfax. The doctor was not averse to the arrangement. His inter- est in "Bombyx," as. a study, was not diminished by - tl~eir intercourse, and he was ~willing to be amused at home by this curious specimen. Besides, he desired to oblige C~ptain Tremaine in every way. Camp- bell had already been informed that, as a civilian and a mere spectator of the battle, he would not b~ treated as a prisoner of war, but that, for military reasons, it was deemed necessary to detain him for a short time within the Confederate lines. It was finally arranged that both Tremaine and Campbell, giving suitable paroles, should acconipa~ny Doctor Fairfax. The doc- tor notified his brother that, being slightly wounded, was about to return home with two wounded friends, and he requested that his own house might be prepared for them. This was the first information received at Roebuck how Doctor Dick had fared In the battle. The coun- try had bean informed with telegraphic brevity that the South had gained a splendid victory at Manassa, but with severe loss in killed and wounded. Then the wires conveyed the names of generals and afterwards of other officers who had fallen. Next camel an esti- mate of the Confederate loss,~ studiously moderates but frightful to those who had kindred in the ai'my. Slowly a few telegrams followed from survivors to their families. But for several days nothing was known throughout the country of the fate of thou- sands of the best and bravest of the land, who had been exposed to the peril of a bloody battle. The 150 page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] 152 ROEBUCK. I announcement of victory had thrilled the Southi~'n people with joy and exultation. Success so decisive in the first great battle o~i' the war w&~ generally accepted as decisive of the entire contest. Indepen~ deuce Was regarded as secure. That sentiment of security, with the subsequent inaction of the army, was very detrimental to the Confederate cause: The ffrst year of the war, when the native courage and fresh enthusiasm of the Southern troops made them ,irre~ sistible on an equal field, was alniost thrown away, and the time thus lost could never be recovered. But after the first exultant echo of triumph came the wail of a people for the loved ones who had purchased the victory with~ their blood. There was agony, borne with patriotic fortitude, but it was agony. The f'axnily at ~oebuck were relieved of painful anxiety when. they learned that Doctor Fairfax was returning home, only slightly wounded. Preparations were made to ~receive him and his two friends, who were supposed to be Confederate soldiers. It was de.. cided that a bachelor's establishment was not afit place fpr wounded patriots, and that the comforts of Roebuck and the tender care of women would be absolutely necessary. When the train, which was ex- pecte~ to bring the doctor and his friends, arrived, Colonel I~'red was at the station. Captain Tremaine wa~ borno ~"'~' ~ ____ on a cot, preceded by Doctor Fairfax, on crutches, and followed by Campbell, limp~ ing on a cane. . ~' Welcome, brother Dick," exclaimed the colonel, "welcome home; are these your friends'? Welcome, gentlemen;. bring them along, Dick; here is the carriage; here's a spring wagon with a bed on it, in case any of you need it; let me help to carry your ROEBUCK. 153 friend; come along; you are all going to Roebuck; the ladies are waiting for you; not ~a word; three wounded gentlemen to be laid up in a bachelor's barracks! preposterous! it is all settled; come ~on." "But, brother Fred," repeated the doctor, several times, while the colonel was delivering this speech with great animation; "but, brother Fred," and he plucked-the colonel's sleeve, and attempted to draw him aside, for the prospect of carrying Campbell to be domiciled with the family at Roeb~ick horrified him.; "but, brother Fred," he finally exclaimed, "they are Yankees." "yankees, Dick! Good God I Have you brought a brace of Yankees here ~ You I" Now, the colonel was a kindhearted man. He had been opposed to secessiQn and war. He had not cherished that animosity against the Northern people which his brother proclaimed.1 But war engendered bitter hatred in the mildest tempers. Atrocities wau tonly inflicted, as he believed, with. 'the sanction of* the highest Federal authorities, provoked in his bosom antipathy that was deep, stern and~almost implacable. His general indignation against, the North naturally tinged his feeling towards all individuals who were known to him only as abettors of the North in the wa*,. Of all men hi~ brother was the last whom h0 would have expected to find in charitable charge of such malignant enemies. The colonel had not been a soldier, and, therefore, had not felt the charities of ~ the battleAleld when the battle is over. "You I" Doctor Dick, caught in 'an inconsistency, reddened and stammered. He attempted to explain. But the colonel happened to look at the face of Captain Tre.. maine. That prostrate and helpless gentleman, suf' '7* 152 - 4 page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] * 154 ROEBIf OK. fearing physical agony, seemed even more distressed by the scene which he then witnessed between the two brothers. He understood enough of it to make him feel that he was the occasion of embarrassment and' pain to his friend, the doctor.- His eyes turned from one brother to the other with an expression of anguish. When the colonel looked at him, compas- -sion took the place of anger. He bent over the cap- tain, gently took his hand, and in the kindest voice expressed sympathy and welcome. With his habitual. promptitude he called assistance, played the wounded officer on the bed, made every possible 'provision for his ease and comfort, and rode on horseback beside the wagon, to. see that the "Yankee" should receive no injury. The doctor and Campbell followed in the * the carriage to Roebuck. When they arrived there,, about sunset, of course Doctor Dick had an affectionate welcome. The ladies, without investigating the nationality of the other gen~ tlemen, received them kindly, and offered to the wounded captain such sympathetic words and tender offices as his condition suggested. He was carried into a large, convenient chamber, handsomely fur, nished, and laid upon a bed that needed not a wound, a journey, or contrast with a camp~cot to make it seem luxurious. A physician of eminence was sent for, and in the course of the evening, his skill, with the ministrations of the family, soothed the patient's suffering and inspired him with the hope of life and health. At his request, a bed was placed in his cham- ber for his countryman, Campbell. 'When those guests had been disposed of for the night, and the wound of Doctor Fairfax had been dressed-a wound which Mrs.. Fai~rfax pronounced to ROEBUCK. 155 be alarming, and which the thought would physician requne repose and care-that disabled soldier lay upon a sofa, like a warrior taking his rest, but ready, as usual, to talk. "Now, Colonel Ji~lia," he said, "come' and kiss me, like a good girl, and then, like a colonel, you shall talk to tue about war. I kn~v you are dying to hear all I-have to tell about the g~t battle and vic- tory, and especially, about my ow'~Anartial exploits. I believe now, my fair Desdemona, I might Win your love, if I wanted it, like Othello, by bragging.~~ "You can never 'win my love, Uncle Dick." "Why, Miss, tell me why,. you saucy" "Because you have had it ever so long." "Fudge! But, speaking of love, what have you done to bewitch that feather-brained fellow, -Hugh Fitzhugh ?" "I am not a witch, uncle, and Captain Fi~zhugh is not feather-brained, I believe," replied Julia, smiling and blushing. "Well, he is a sad fellow; we'll not talk of him." "But you must not disparage my friends in their absence." "0, he's a friend of yours? Then 1 shall not slan . der him-much." "Fie! Be serious-now do-and tell us about the battle." The story of Manassa, 'as then told by the doctor to his brother and the two ladies, had for them the fascination of novelty, of tragedy and triumph. They were not yet familiar with the awful scenes of a long and sanguinary contest. To them that battle, with its victory, seemed enough of carnage and of glory for an entire war. To the ladies particularly, it appeared page: 156-157[View Page 156-157] I5~ ROEBUCK. RO 1i~B U C K. 157 that the end of the war was achieved. The story filled their imaginations, like a noble history already complete. When the doctor had described the events of' chief importance, he began to entertain them with anecdotes of personal adventure. One of them related to some of the personages of this narrative. "There, is Captain Fitzhugh, now-your friend, Colonel Julia.-he has the name of'being a brave man .-I shall say nothing against your friend on that score-but, like the rest of us, he is a raw soldier and may blunder into scrapes-..-and he rides a fleet horse- that I know; the Yankees know it too, for they havE seen his heels."' Having said so much, with significant looks and tone; he caused and fixed his eyes on Julia, as if ex. peothig her to invite an explanation of his hints. But some maidenly coyness or consciousness sealed her sweet lips, and sent a blush to her beautiful cheeks. Mrs. Fairfax had no such feeling to restrain the curiosity which belongs to her sex-and to the haughtier sex.' "Go on," she said, "tell us what you have to tell about Hugh." "Well, Hugh is a warrior, who, by the diligent study of his profession, has discovered that the whole ~'t of war is neatly packed away in a few words 0f an old Greek poet, or in two lines of modern parody~-... 'Ha that fights, and runs away, May live to fight another day.' On one Q~ca5iqn, howevQr, he would have preferred, I )#ieve, t~ onhit~the preliminary fight suggested by the poet before runni~ig." "Uncle Dick, you shall not"- "What?" "Come," said the colonel, laughing, "you shall not tease the ladies with your scandalous hints. Tell your tale like a man." "Well, if I must, I must. But you shall not blame me, Julia, if the story does not please you. Once upon a time, then-it was a few days before the battle -Captain Fitzhugh was sent to spy out-you would say to i'econnoitre, Colonel 'Julia-a position of the enemy. About sutlri8e he went some two niile8 in advance of his company, to a hill from which he ex- pected to obtain a near and clear view of the position. He took with him only two. men. One of them was Mark Marlin, the young man, Julia, who has taken your gentlemanly father for his model. It is not ne. cessary to name the other man. They were all Well mounted. The men, perhaps, were selected With a view to the fleetness Of their horse; ~according to the fundamental flying principle of the captain. Hugh rode his famous black, Sultan. 'Mark was outhe horse you gave him, brother Fred." "Sold to him. "Well, the other soldier had a swifter nag than either 'of them, as the result showed. WI~e~i they ar rived at the hill, it was so densely wooded that the captain deemed it necessary to descend alone to an open bench or little plateau, from which he could plainly see the whole batch of Yankees on the oppo~ site side of a small stream. lie was as clearly seen himself by tho hostile piokete alQng the margin of the stream, and he stoo& within easy range Qf their guns. He remained there ten or fifteen minutes, while a dozet of the blue.coats were firing away at him, and how page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] ROEBUCK. 15~ he escaped injury I cannot imagine. Just as he re turned to his two followers they had discovered a squad of the enemy's cavalry, eight or ten in numl5er, making for the road by which they had come. To return on that road was impossible. To reuiain was out of the question. There waS no way to get back to the company but by scouring across open fields in full view of the enemy, and trusting to luck and speed. So we-so the captain led oft; commanding the two men to follow, or to make their way back as. - they should find it necessary. He was able to keep ahead of Mark, but the other grey-back distanced them both. They were soon discovered by the Yam- kee squad, wh~ immediately attempted to intercept *them. They succeeded in cutting off Marlin, and bringing him to bay. The brave boy drew his sabre, and endeavored to cut his way through them6 The captain, looking back, saw his follower surrounded; and fighting furiously. Wheeling his horse, hugh dashed at the Yankees, and began to lay ab6~t him with such vigor that their attention was withdrawn from Mark to the, officer, and there was momentary confusion among them. Seeing that. Marlin wa~ ex-~ tricated by the movement, his captain called out-. 'fly, Mark, fly-fly, I 'command you.' The soldier,. with the instinct of military obedience, fled at the word of command, although, until it was repeated with peremptory v4iemence, he hesitated to leave his officer. The Feds did not follow him, but tried to close in upon~ the captain, fly the dexterous manage- ment of his horse and sword, or by marvello~is for.. tune, he kept 'his life among them until he thought Mark had a sufficient start. Then throwing his body forward to the neck of his horse, and plunging the spurs into Sultan's sides, he was carried at a leap be. tween uplifted sabres clea.~ of the Federals. They pursued, firing their pistols. Only a few hundred yards in advance, there was a fence over which Hugh and Mark were carried by their horses without ha1t~ ing. But none of the pursuers ventured, the leap. Thus they lost time which was well employed by the flying grey-backs. When they had crossed one or two more fences, that fortunately crossed their line of re-. treat, the blue-coats were out of sight, and they were ~iever seen again. Hugh says that in the fray, ~Mark emptied one saddle; and Mark, more liberal in his commendation, avers that his captain cut down two of the Yankees. It is a pity that these witnesses are not quite impartial, and that the other grey-back, who sneers at their testimony, had noit remained near enough to the scene of action to 'correct their reports. But he had regained the company, and spread won- 'ous rumors long before the captain's return." "Who was he O?~~ inquired Julia. "It is none of your business, niece of mine. "Thou art the man, I verily believe, Uncle Dick." 9 Never say that, again! Don't slander your uncle." "Brother Dick," said Mrs. Fairfax, "who or what ~s this Mr. Campbell, you have brought home with you~" "A genuine Yankee, my gentle sister, if there can be a genuine counterfeit." "Uncle Dick, you have told us that Captain Tre- maine is a true man." "One swallow don't make a summer, Miss Julia.. As for Campbell, when I first ~aw him, I thought he had a good face, but upon examining it, I 'found it page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] ROEBUCIr. 9 161 4 ROI~BUCK. 160 was only a Yankee imitation of a good faee..~-rna4e, like other Yankee goods, to impose upc~n customers at first sight, but not to wear well. In eyery feature there was some cunning defect. I might suspect that, like Richard, he was cheated of feature by dissembling na- tui~e; but at cheating, ~ Yankee would beat nature. WhetJ conversed with him-O, what a rare bird I thought I would have some ~port with him at ho'me, but really, sister Mary, I am sorry he was bought here." "Never mind; he will help to cheer Captain Tre~ maine." "i hope so; poor fellow! he is a gentleman. Ah, me! But fellows like C~tnipbell will write our his. tory." CHAPTER XV". BOMBYX AT ROEBUCIC. CAPTAnir TREMA1NI~'S condition for several days re. inained critical. At one time it was regarded as des- perate. Two or three nights Colonel Fairfax eat i~y his bedside all night, and the physician was kept in the house. But when the crisis was past his conv~des.. cence was rapid. Although the Federal authorities had adopted the inhuman policy of preventing the importation of medicines into the Confederacy, the most necessary remedies could still be supplied to a Federal prisoner. The patient constantly received th~ kindest attention from the family and from s&- vants who had experience in nursing The sick. Do~tor Dick spent much time in his chamber, applying the physician's instructions with professional intelligence, and amusing the captain with quaint conversation, relieved of all satirical asperity by sympathy and re- spect for this "Yankee.". His own favorite servant, Caleb, divided his attention between his master and the ~~unded captain. The good clergyman, Mr. Ambler, visited him often, and a cordial friendship was established between them. Tremaine won the esteem of all who approached him by the gentleness of his manners, his patience in suffering, his gratitude for kindness, and, in brief, by the honorable sentiments of an educated soldier. In a few weeks his health was so far restored that he might4e removed with safety, and a special exchange having been arranged for him page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] 162. ROJ3~BUCK. through the interest of friends, he left Roebuck for the }~orth. His departure was sincerely regretted by the friends he had made there, and he expressed the' warmest gratitude for all their kindness. Taking leave of him for a time, we return to his compatriot, Campbell. Although they found the manners and sentiments of that guest by ~uo means agreeable, yet Colonel Fairfax and his family, studious of hospitality, endea- vored in every way ~o promote his comfort and plea~ sure. The colonel placed a. horse at his disposal to ride at will over the plantation and through the, neighborhood. The host would have deemed it unworthy of himself to watch his movements or t&~ suspect him of any baseness while his honor as a guest and as a prisoner on parole was pledged. The doctor, whose leg confined him to the house, played chess with him or indulged him with plenty of the talk which he loved. The war was,' naturally, the most frequent theme of their conversation, for the sen- timent of delicacy which excluded it from the conver- * nations between Captain Tremaine and the family, did not restrain Bombyx, especially when Ire was alone with Doctor Dick. At first he was much embarrassed in the society of Roebuck. His assurance was abashed by the quiet, unassuming manners of gentle- men and ladies, who,' in the familiarity of domestic life, * practiced the refined gentleness to which they ~had been born. As he dared not affect superiority after his manner, he would have fallen into servility after ?his nature, if he had not been made to feel that the social law of the place was one of equality at a high level and that it was equally a transgression to cringe and to hector. He suspected that there was an odious U ROEBUCK. 16~ air of aristocracy about Roebuck, but 'he missed the haughty arrogance which, in his fancy, was associated with the aristocracy of the South. When a few days had rend,9red him more familiar with the usages of the ~lace he began to despise, as a weakness, the unobtrusive gentleness which he eQuld never compre.. hend. "Check !" cried the doctor, one day, "-eheck- mate!" "Yes," Campbell admitted, "I believe has the Yank this time." JohnyReb "So may it ever be," 1'eplied Doctor Dick, laugh- ing. "Now, doctor, let us talk seriously about that a little while. II see a great many good~ servants here.-... faithfal, stout, good-humored fellows.-don't you think it would be better to set them all f~re~ ?" "And turn the best of servant~ ~into the worst of freemen?" I "0, give them time.-.they will buprove after they are free." "The world has waited several tl~ousand years for the negro race to originate an idea. If we are to wait for their brains to bloom we may'Wait until the crack of doom, ou until Yankees become honest." - "DQctor, you are a bundle of prejudices." "Very likely. Prejudices ar~ the ribs of char- acter." "You know we don't intend to injure the South." "You would not injure the watch though you would crush the works I" "But if we should emancipate the negroes we would certainly confer a benefit on both races-.let me convince you of that." 1. 4 page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] 1~4 ROEBUOX~.. "AnswerMr. Campbell, Caleb," said the doctor, to his favorite servant, who 'stood with a napkin on his arm, waiting for orders. Being commanded to speak, he made a profound bow to the g~iest and began: "If I am allowed to suppress my cogitation Sn this memorable occasion, human nature teaches me that white folks that I have never seen would not come a thousand miles just to fight for my good." "There it is, Mr. Campbell," said the doctor, "go on and plant your oranges in icebergs." "But you would like to be free, Caleb ?" "That's as might be according to the circumnaviga~ tion of circumstances. I do not see many white folks as/free as I am, no offence to you, master, as being our prisoner. Them other free nig~ers, as I repre. hend by my circumlocution, they are lazy beggars and thieves. They are the contemptible, black coffee~. grounds of society left after the second boiling." "That will do Caleb; Mr. Campbell has your opinion." "Well, doctor, however we may differ about slavery, it is astonishing that you Southerners make war against so~good a government i~.s ours." "We make war! The South attempted peacable secession-the North attempted to prevent secession by' force. The North made war." "But no State b~as a right to secede." "Then the Federal government is absolute.". ". Oh, no, doctor, it is a free government." "Under a free government the rights of all should be" protected 'with even-handed justice. Protection ihou.ld be meted to all'in equal measure and with the quality of manna-he that gathered much had nothing over, and he that gathered little had no la~k. The IIOEI3UCK. '165 Federal government enriches the North at 'the~ex- pense of the South, and when we would escape from legalized rapacity, we are told that we are bound for- ever. When the forms of law to which we assented cannot hold us, the sword is illegally drawn to subju~ gate our States. Is this- a free government for us'? But I did not intend to be drawn into. an angry dis~iis-. sion. It can do no good. h is better to laugh aside subjects that irritate when we cannot be convinced." "No, no, doctor, I am not angry. 'I am sure I can~ convince you if you give me time., Think of the greatness of the government you 'are: giving up. If we remain united we can def~' the world." "If you worship ~power, you should offer; your mw cense to the Prince of Darkness. His dominion is not confined to the United States." Well, doctor, if you won't discuss the matter se~ riously, you must not think hard of us for pres~erving the life of the nation at all 'hazards." "Which nation-..-.North or South'?, You would take the life of the South, in order that the North may live ~t ease." "One nation, embracing North and South, East and' West.-a great, free, enlightened nation. We must prcserve its life. We regret tl~e desolation which the war must bring upon the South, but we owe a duty to posterity and to mankind. We must preserve the life of the nation. We are resolved to preserve it with our blood." "I thought so at Manassa-.in the morning not so clear atnight." ~ It was "We failed once. But we shall succeed in the end. A just cause must succeed." "You have a surer ground for confide~r~e, perhaps, than the justice of your ~ause~ I wish y~u had not." page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] 166 ROEBUCK. What i.s that, pray?" "~The'faot that The just catise is seldom sucees5ful in war.'~ The.~ Reverend Mr. Ambler thinks this is be- cause Providenc6 would admonish good. men to avoid war by teachuiig them that if a righteous cause cannot be upheld by reason, it cannot be enforced with the sword. I only see that, as a rule, th~,e big dog whips the little one, and that dog~ are, usually insolent and unjust in proportion, to their size." "Do you not believe that Providence awards vic- tory in accordance with' stice ?" "Kyd, the pirate, ad victories. England con- quered India. We ha~re exterminated the American Indians. Victors have dined on minced missionary. J3rutus died for 'liberty, and. Cesar had. the empire. Napoleon was the genius of victory-was he a man after God's own heart? Did Providence change sides at Waterloo? 'We must not turn Pagans." "At all events, you will see the amazing energy of our government displayed in suppressing the re~ hellion." * "A government, in ceasipg to be free, may display terrific energy, like a steam-boiler in exploding." "But our government does not ocase to be free." "Has not..the habeas corpus been suspended by o Presidential edict.-the chief justice flouted by a mill. tary officer~newspaper5 suppressed~-legislature5 bro. ken up-citizens imprisoned-laws defied~ Youi government cannot subjugate the South without first enslaving the North." "We shall return to the bulwarks of liberty aftex suppressing the rebellion." "Nulla vesligia retrorsum;" "Let us have another game of chess, doctor. ROEBUCK) 167 Mr, Campbell was not satisfied that t~he luminous ~opininn ilelivered by Caleb correctly.~,ejreserited pub- lic sentiment in the African branch of Sc~uthern so. ciety. His professional curiosity pricked him to pry into the thoughts 'and feelings of the slaves. He deemed it his duty also to enlighten them on the great question of their own destiny, if he found them be.. nigh ted like Oaleb. His philanthropy was as med.. dlesome*. and egotistical as his curiosity. Being troubled with no scruples of honesty or hcmoit, and having set up a Deity in his own image, he persuaded himself that he would be doing God service in sowing dissension between his host and his' servants by ex. citing delusive aspirations in the minds of the credu. bus negroes. Before he had been long at Roebuck he conceived the ambitious and atrocious design of serving the Northern cause by fomenting a servile in.. surrection. Under the influence of. those motives he sought opportunities to converge ~yith the slaves at Roebuck and on other estates. As he rode about at his pleasure, he found such opportunities without difficulty. Being conscious, however, of an illicit and odious purpose, he avoided observation, and gave to his intercourse with the servants a clai~destine charac- ter. He supposed it was quite unknown to the per.. Sons whose hospitality he enjoyed.. His interviews with some of the negroes who have become known to the reader may be brIefly described. He found old Valentine sunning himself one morn- ing before his cabin, and aftei' some questions about his health, age and recollections, inquired if the old man knew 'that the negroes would all soon be set free. "Den God help us, poor mggers," ejaculated & page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] 168 ROEBUCK. J Valentine. "What will become of us if we lose our masters? Who will take keer of old fetters like "But your children and grandchi14r~n--thiflk of their good." . "Pey's mighty well off, master. We's all niggers, and we wants white folks to. take keer of us. We ain't got no sense to take care of oursolv~s. God help us if dey sets us free." Mr. Campbell passed on, attributing these craven and servile sentiments to senility which he could not enlighten. Again,.he was riding past a shop in which a lil~ely young fellow was at work. "How are you, my man," he said, "what is~ yoUr name~" "Bob, sir; dey calls me carpenter I3ob, for short." "What pay do y&u get, Robert, for the work you are doing?" "Pay, master? t belongs to Colonel Fred." "Does he pay you nothing for your work V' "What for would he pay me when I belongs to him'P' "He ought to pay you, I think." "What make 1" "Because no man'ought to labor for nothing" "I don't work. 'for nothing . I gits as much a~ 'I wants off~n dis big~ plantation. I don't pay master nothing' for tending' to it." "If you were free you could go North, and get good wages. as a mechanic." "Would I have a big plantation, like dis one, to live on "Pei'haps not; but you don't own this one." "It saves me, n~ighty well. I ain't agwiue to leave ~ sartia sure, sir." ROEBUOW. 169 When Campbell .fell in with Joe, he thou~hV that head-man more intelligetit than Bob, until he touched ~is favorite theme. Joe denounced the idea of sepa- rating himself from his master as basely disloyal. "Why," he said, "my folks has belonged to de Fairfaxes since de very first man. We's all Fair- faxes. We's always been Fairfaxes. We's always agwine to be Fairfaxes. What would Master Fred do widout JQe? I touted him and played wid him when he was a y. I was wid him when he was at de University. I went a courtin' wid him. l's bin his 'pendence all his life. \ My children's bin wid his children. We's jis like brothers, only he's white and l's black; and he's master and l's servant, dat's all de difference 'twixt Master Fred and old Joe." "Well, Joe, I was only trying you. I see you are faithful. You need not say anything about this con- versation." "No, master, only to Master Fred. We tells one another everything." Campbell encountered Juba dodging a,~out, and found that this broad-shouldered, bnllet-headed, bel- ligerent brother, by dint of meditation in the woods, had solved the question of the negro's destiny in a different fashion. He listened to a long harangue of Campbell in silence, fixing his eyes upon a fence-post with that lodk of profound imbecility and unobservant attention which none but a inegro can give, and then, without t shifting the conspicuous whites of his eyes, he propoun4~d his conclusion: "It seems to me as ef dis was a white man's fight over de nigger. All do nigger is got to do wid it is to lay in d'e bush till de white folks is done fou't it out. Den, which whips, do nigger he comes out'n do 8 page: 170-171[View Page 170-171] 170 ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. 171 bush and takes his sheer. Ef de Rebels whips, den we gits ,our corn and bacon, jis so. Ef de Yankees whips, den dey gives de land to de niggers, and de. nigger what stays here, he gits do first slic& I stays here." Cam bell found by his African explorations, that either f~om affection or apathy or stupidity or tim-. idity, or from obscui'e motives which they' could not explain, the negroes generally were at that time in- clined to remain with their owners, or, at least, were not inclined to make any adventurous effort to change their condition. In a few cases, however, the teach- ing of the philanthropist took root in the minds of the slaves and bore fruit after the kind, not precisely of the doctrine but of the negro. When Campbell had been for some time delving in this mine of black dia- -monds, his work was suddenly interrupted. Colonel Fairfax had, of course, become aware of his frequent interviews~ with his own slaves and others, but attri- buted them to the natural curiosity of a stranger or the professional curiosity of Bombyx. He did not suspect him of abusing the privileges of hospitality for unworthy purposes.' He casually remarked to his guest-" I see, Mr. Campbell, you have been amusing yourself with talking to the servants on the planta- tion." "Never, c~olonel---.you must not believe the tales of the negroes." "What !" exclaimed the colonel, with surprise, "do I understand you to deny that you have con- versed with the negroes." "Never, except with the servants who came to our A chamber." "Mr. Campbell, I was not complaining of your. con- duct. I said iiothing about tales ~f the negroes. But you surprise me." "Do y~u suspect me of falsehood, Colonel Fair- fax ?" "I suspect nothing, Mr. Campbell. I know." The colonel's manner expressed 'his scorn of falsehood. "Since 'I find myself an object of suspicion under your roof; sir, I had better relieve your house of my presence." "You will use your own pleasure,, sir." Mr. Camj~bell, without unnecessary delay, took up his quarters- at the Swan tavern. The change had become desirable to him, for it relieved him of some obstacles to the prosecution of his main desigii. He had been wishing to escape from the restraints of Roebuck, when the accidental altercation with Colonel Fairfax, and that gentleman's indignation at his false-. hood, opened the door. page: 172-173[View Page 172-173] 172 flOEBUCI~. CHAPTER XVI. CoNsFmAOIEs. A FEW days after Campbell established himself at the Swan tavern a rumor began to be whispered through the neighborhood tha1~ the negroes 'were plot- ting an insurrection. It was vague and without a know~ origin. It gathered circumstances as it flew, and si~picion supplied the defects of testimony. tTntil en the slaves, where the invasion had not pen.. etrated, were quiet, submissive, and remarkably atten- tive to their duties. Few attempted to escape, and none to rebel.. The war, and the general arming of the dominant race impressed them with awe. But experience had not yet proved what effect upon their inflammable passions mightbe produced by the progress of a vast conflict, waged, as they understood, by the North for their deliverance. While it was believed that servile insurrection was one of the agencies by which the North expected to subjugate the South, a rumor of commotion among~the slaves might readily cause anxiety. It was soon reported that there had been midnight meetings 'of negroes-that there had be&~ secret intercourse between Campbell, Palmer and blind Pete-that Pete was more active than ever in his clandestine dealings with slaves by night. Sus- picion fell upon Camgbell because he;was a "Yankee ;' it was promoted by a circumstantial story of his dis- missal from Roebuck because he had tampered with servants; it was confirmed by exaggerated accounts ROEBUCK. 173 told by some of the negroes of 'his conversations with them. Palmer's nativity, reserved .habits and equivo- cal eon~uct had lost him the con~deuce of his neigh~ bors, and his position was ~ compromised by a report that his Son had deserted and gone over to the enemy. These various rumors and suspicions pro- duced uneasiness, wW agitation. the ich rapidly swelled into popular ingenuity of Mr. Palmer was constantly exercised by; his plans for~making the war subservient to his interest and revenge, and 'by the embarrass- meiits which must beset a secret adherent of the North, who, in a Soiithern community, ostensibly though faintly supported the Southern cause. When blind Pete visited him, as well in pursuance of his own invitation as of the stipulation exacted by Baxter at a rope's end, a negotiation took place in which the trained intelligence of the retired merchant outwitted the purblind cunning of the vulgar knave. Pete w~ led to reveal, not only the whole transaction of the sugar-tongs, but the apprehension which he felt that the Northern stranger would be less indulgent than the good-natured Southerners, who so often winked at his pilfering in compassion for his blindness. By playing upon this fear and by a liberal bribe, Palmer enlisted Pete in his secret service. He thus established an espionage upon the families of his neighbors and an agency which might be turned to account in the pro- secution of schemes yet unhatched. Through this channel he was informed of Campbell's position at IRoehuck and was enabled to estimate his character. He wished to open communication with him, but was too cautious' to attempt it until the guest had removed from Roebuck to the tavern. Soon after that event page: 174-175[View Page 174-175] 174 ROEBUCK. he commissioned Pete to convey a private intimation to Campbell that Mr. Palmer desired to consult him confidentially, and would be pleased to receive a visit from him at his own ~house by night. The invitatioii was accepted, and thus at a late hour one night those two natives of the North were sitting in Mr. Palmer's parlor, with the doors locked and the windrow-shut- ters closed. "I have now intrusted you," Mr. Palmer was say- ing, "with a candid exposition of my real sentiments respecting the rebellion, and of the urgent reasons for disguising them at present. May II rely upon your friendship to make this explanation in the proper quarters when you return to the North? I hope my conduct and motives will be kindly appreciated there. \If the forces of the Union should hereafter reach this part of Virginia, as of course, they will, it may be de- sfrable that the commander shall be informed of my views, but you will perceive that, for' the benefit of our cause, it may even then be prudent for him to ret tam the knowledge in his own breast." "I understand you, I believe," responded Campbell, dAly. "Then there 'is a report current that my son Albert, who was a quarter-master in the State service for a shZ~rt time, has resigned his office, and visited the Union lines. You may meet him at the North, and, I believe, you will find that he is as loyal as I am. Possibly he will desire to enter the Federal service. If~ you can promote his plans in any way, you will oblige me by doing so, and will render service, no ( 'ioubt, to the cause." "I understand you.~~ "Then may I count upon your friendly offices ?" ROEBUCK. 175 "That~ question, Mr. Palmer, must be answered with ~olemn reference to my paramount duty as a loyal citizen of the United States. When you solicit the favor of our benign go-verunient it appears to me that you may reasonably be required to give some tangible proof of your loyalty. This is a most wicked rebellion, and neutrality is a great offence." "What can I do here and now for the Union ?" "Much. You have a glorious field for usefulness in your situation. The confidence reposed in you by your rebel neighbors, under the belief that you sympa- thize with them, will enable you to operate effect.. ively, secretly and safely. You have a glorious op.. opportunity " "I do not understand you." "There is in the South a population of four mil- lions who should be loyal supporters of the Union cause. They require~ only to be stimulated and guided Why are they not' summoned to the aid of those arms which are to strike from their limbs the manacles of bondage? They a~re within' the rebel camp. 'They sleep in the citadel. They could grasp the keys~ They can disband Southern armies, by de. straying Southern h~mes. If they have not guns, there is the knife and the torch. Many of them are around you.' With th~m you can serve the Union." ~"Would you resort to servile insurrection-to uni- versal massacre.-to the assassination of families-to the Violation of women-to the murder of innocent children.-to"--.--.-. "Enough, Mr. Palmer. In a word, all means are lawful to suppress this unprovoked, this wicked, this atrocious rebellion against the best government the world ever saw. It is a rebellion of slave-holders. It page: 176-177[View Page 176-177] 176 ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. *v77 is fit that we cry havoc, and let slip the slaves. If they are savage, let those who have made them savage by oppression pay the penalty." "Mr. campbell, you chill my blood with horror." "Then, sir, your loyalty is hypocrisy." "Why, the F deral government has solemnly de- clared that the "war is not waged to interfere with the initution of slavery." Politic words! Word~~! The government ad- vances before the swelling breeze of popular feeling. Hostility to slavery is the master passion of the Nort~rn heart.~ This was the prime cause of the war. Byiilexorable logic the abolitioii of slavery must be a consequence of the war. The government must in~ tend the necessary result of its own action. They are blind who do not foresee the end. The North sees it and therefore sustains the war. Press and pulpit, by turns masters or slaves of opinion, are furiously hostile to slavery and slave-holders: A servile insur.~ reaction would be hailed there with more enthusiasm than ever was the name of John Brown. Be not de~ luded by politic professions of the government.~ Chiefi of administration are known to believe that the name of John Brown has become historical as a martyr in the cause of human nature. Whoever most resem~ bies him is most faithful to the instincts of this war~" "Old John Brown! It cannot be true that a Christian government approves his desperate charac~ ter and diabolical design." "411 good Christians at the North revere him as a martyr." "BLit he was hung," said. Palmer, nst pleased with the precedent. * "What, then ~ He is canonised. If you would be a saint, be a man. Defy the slave power. Stir up the slaves. Recognize your mission." "You are mistakeft in your estimate of the negroes. We who have lived long among them know them better. They are inert and cowardly. The love of ~iberty is not in them, as in the white race, an aspir~ ing and unconquerable passion, but a languid love of ease. They failed John Brown." "But then they were~ not encouraged by a power- fuil government and an invincible army." "Perhaps the recent event at Manassa ~nay not en~ courage them." "Mr. Palmer, are you loyal or disloyal to the Union'?" "Loyal, Mr. Campbell, loyal to the core. I have. humbly ventured to suggest difficulties which oc~ curred to my mind. But if there is really anything that I can do for the Union cause, I am ready to do it." "On no. other condition will I consent to represent you as a loyal citizen, or to interest myself in the for- tunes of your son." Pressed by such considerations, Palmer finally con~ scented to lend himself to a scheme which he believed to be dangerous to himself; impracticable and atro.. cious. He compromised with his conscience and his prudence by resolving that he would do no more than might be absolutely necessary to satisfy Campbell, and by assuring himself that the project could have, no important result. He promised to ascertain the temper of the negroes, and report to Campbell. That gentleman, returning to his room in the tavern, mini.. nated coming events which would immortalize his name, and furnish material for several telling letters 8* page: 178-179[View Page 178-179] 178 ROEBUCK. to the' "Comet." Already his brain began to flame with the composition of amazing paragraphs, and daz- zling rows of capitals danced before his mind's eye, like rustling banners of triumph. ~r. ?almer sought an early opportunity to signify to blind Pete, with cautious circumlocution, that he desired to learn whether any of the slaves were ambitious to become free, and what exertions they were inclined to make, or what risks they were pre- pared to run for that object. He wished to leave that blind rogue in doubt whether the inquiry was intended in the interest of the North or of the South-of slave- holders or of abolitionists. But Pete was astute enough to resolve th~t doubt by laying together various circumstances which had come to his know- ledge. He insinuated his conviction of the truth, and declared that the service in which Mr. Palmer pro- posed to employ him would be attended with extreme danger to himself By insisting upon his real or affected fear, he extorted a larger bribe than he had ever before ventured to demand. As Mr. Palmer was also palled upon to supply the necessities of Mr. Camp- bell, his ~urse was now subject to a double drain in consequence of his loyalty. Moreover he was kept in an agony of apprehension. lie had little confidence in the negroes, and less in Pete. Ht~ dreaded every moment that his perilous plot might explode to his own ruin. He had sold all his slaves except two men and the wife and children of one of~ them. This one was a dull, stupid fellow, named Gabe, who was retained because his master was obliged to keep at least one man-servant, and thought this doltish creature would not run away. The other man, whose name was 0 ROEBUCK. 179 Mike, was a shrewd, restles~ unn~an~geab1e negro. Lie had been "in the bush" for several months. During his absence his family had been sold and sent Southward. He reseAted this transaction, as well as the sharp discipline to which he had submitted before he took to the woods. He expected, if he should be taught, to be sold also and sent to the Cotton States. To avoid this fate, Mike conceived a plan of escaping into the sFederal lines with such of the neighboring negroes ashe could induce to join him. With their aid he desired, before leaving the country, to procure money, and, perhaps, to gratify his resentment. He was hatching this project while his master was m9d- dling with a more atrocious plot. Mike was tam- pering with blind Pete to further his own scheme, while Pete was tampering with him in pursuance of his engagement with Mr. Palmer. Mike sought an interview with Campbell, and affecting to adopt his views, obtained such information and assistance as he thought necessary to his own plan. He was quite too shrewd to believe in the success of a servile insurrec- tion. He and two or three other negroes who were conspiring with him or with Pete or with Campbell-.- they scarcely knew with whom or for what.-obt~ained some fire-arms through Pete's illicit traffic. They had an old musket, two shot-guns, with broken locks, and a pistol. Mike supposed that these weapons might be useful in perpetrating a robbery or in taking vengeance on an obnoxious master, or in defending the fugitives on their route of escape. The black chiefs of the conspiracy held a council. They sat in an old tobacco-barn, near the edge of a wood, remote from any habitation. The time was midnight, and the moon had just risen. The barn / page: 180-181[View Page 180-181] 180 ROEBUCK.. ROEBUCK. 181 bad long been disused and had fallen into decay. It was bfiilt of round logs with the bark on them. The roo~f was of elap-boards. The bark was hanging in black flakes from the logs, and the roof was all gone, except a few of the rafters which sprawled like spiders' legs in the moonlight overhead. The door had been carried away, and the frame in which it had stood, being rotten, ceased to uphold the ends of the logs, and these, swaying downward~ left a wide, rag- ged hole in the side of the barn. The assemblage7 within, mottled with patches of moonlight and of shadow, numbered four persons. They were squatted upon the ground. Mike presided on a fiat stone. The other three were two slaves of Mr. Eckles, named Jake and Cato, and a slave of Mrs. Fitzliugh, called Hannibal. Jake and Cato had been, like Mike, for some time in the bush. Cato was a timid, crouching fellow, but Jake was a stout, fierce, savage-looking negro, with the marks of severe treatment' on his per- sou. Hannibal had been corrupted by the laxity of discipline at Willowbank, under the administration of a woman, and roaming about in idleness, he had fallen in with the other sable conspirators. "Now, boys," said President Mike, "we's a gwine to hold a council to see what we's a gwhie to do. What you all gwine to'do now?" "l's a gwine to stop in de bush," responded Cato, "'case it's de nighest to git. something' to eat from de t'other niggers." "I want to r~n off to de Yankees," said Hannibal, "'case it's de fnr4est off to cotch us." "What's we done got dem guns for ?'~ inquired Cato, "dat's what I want to know. I's afeard of guns. Dat's what." "You're a fool," growled Jake, "guns is to shoot." "Dem guns won't shoot nobody," pronounced the president. "Dey must shoot somebody," said Jake. "Who ?" cried all the others. "Old Eckles." "0 Lord," exclaimed Cato, with alarm, "ef dar's shooting , l's ow" "I'd shoot everybody," rejoined Ja~ce,, "let's raise all de niggers." "How many kin you raise ?" asked the president. "Lots." "Bias you axed 'em?" "Yes, I done ax 'em.~~ "How many of 'em promised~o raise 1" "Two; me and another feller." "What did de rest of'em say?" "I was afeard to ax 'em, afeard dey'll blab. But Yankee Campbell says there's lots of 'em ready." "Yankee Campbell is a liar," declared the presi- dent. "Dat's jis what he is," chimed in Cato and Hanni- baL "hush ~ Somebody's ~a comm'," whispered Cato. "You's a coward," said Mike, "go to de door and watch." When this order was obeyed by the trem- bling Cato, the president continued: "Now, Jake, you's a fool. You's all fools. l's got all de sense. You see de moonshine comm' down through dem rafters. Dat's de way de sense shines down through my head. I's de ~oses to lead you all out'n de house of bondage. Mind me. To-morrow night I'll lead you away to de land of promise. But first we must git some money au4 things. We'8 a twine to Wil. page: 182-183[View Page 182-183] 9 RonBtrc~. R G1~2 B U OK. lowbank. De ok~woman dar has got piles of money and silver things. You know dat, hannibal." "Yes; but she keeps 'em locked up in a chis in her own room, and she sleeps up stairs wid 'eni since do 0 war." "Well," said Mike, "we'll git into her room and break open the chis." "But you mustn't hurt missus," cried Hannibal. "No; she shan't be hurt." "We'll rob do chis, but you mustn't hurt missus." "Now' mind me, Jake, you bring Cato and meet me at de Poplar Spring to-morrow, jis when it gits dark. Hannibal, you go to Willowbank, and git inside to open de door. W.~'ll be dar at 'leven o'clock~ Now, m ind me, I'm Moses." "A ghose-a ghose".-.-shouted Cato, and took to his heels. Jake and hannibal ran out ~f the barn, and being also frightened at a ghost or a man, followed the sentinel. Mike, 'who had given them their or- dci's, and thus accomplished all that he designed, did not attempt to detain them, though he stood his ground. Presently blind Pete advanced from the wood, and a long consultation took place between him and Mike, of which it is necessary to record only that Pete agreed to be at a certain grove near the mansion of Willowbank, with his cart, 'on the next evening, in consideration that he should receive a certain share of the spoils; that he was to~ take with him three pistols and some saddles, which the negroes were to use in mounting themselves on-stolen horses; that he was to be accompanied by two men, who had agreed with Mike to run away, and that the spoil was to be carried to a convenient spot for division, and the plate reduced to a suitable form for trans.. portation by the fugitives. CHAPTER XVII.. INSURRECTION. THE next morning-it was Sunday-when Colonel Fairfax walked out upon~ the lawn in front of his house, he saw a large number of his slaves collected in clusters about the grounds, and discovered at once that there was agitation among them. PrEsently Joe advanced as their spokesman, and inform d his mas- ter that the ser~rants were in great alarm on account of rumors which they understood were afloat. The rumors were that the negroes were plotting insurrec- tion, and that some of the white men had organized themselves a~ a committee of vigilance, to suppress the conspiracy. They feared the violence of these men, acting, as they believed, under a groundless panic. The Colonel was aware that such panics were usually attended with danger to the negroes. The greatest excitement was apt to inflame the £nind~ of those who owned few or no slaves. Owners of many slaves, living among them, could easily bring all in- ors of servile commotion to the test of actual obser- ation, and, besides, they felt bound by interest and JULYto protect their servants against the effects of incautious suspicion. Others who had not the same opportunity of knowledge, nor the same response~ biity; allow~l their imaginations to be stuffed with unsit'ted rep~ts and horrid 'alarms. Colonel Fairfax had already heard some of the rumors which were in circulation, and after listening to Joe, lie said-.- 182 183 page: 184-185[View Page 184-185] "Well, Joe, what do you think about this in~urrec- tion?" "Lord, master, da won't be no resurrection of fig- gers, sure ?" - - "I wish to talk with some of the other boys about it." "Dey will be mighty glad, master." The colonel went among them, and conversed with many of them, separately and together. ~Being tho- roughly acquainted with their habits, he was able to glean from them all they knew or believed, and to de~ terrine what was true. Indeed his servants, having confidence in hiajustice, seldom-attempted to deceive him, unless it might be by that sort of exaggeration which a negro regards as but a decent dress of naked truth. He became convinced that there was no danger of au insurrection. He promised his servants tEa protection which They desired, and admonished them to keep closely to their work in day-time, and to their cabins at night, At the church, that day, he heard' of popular excite- ment and of preparations which threatened violence to the negroes. He exerted all his influence with the people whom he met, to allay the excitement, and to discourage rash action. When' he returned home, his anxiety on the subject was ~o great that, after dinner, he rode out in search of the persons who were reported to be\engaged in the lawless organiza- tiou for the suppression of insurrection. He had not gone far fron~* home, when he met half a dozen men on horseback, ~armed with fowling-pieces and pistols. He knew them to be ignorant persons of inflammable tempers, and they we're manifestly under great ex- citamazit. One of them, who seemed to be a ring- 184 184 ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. 185 3 leader was our acquaintance, Bob Fans, who had not yet executed his purpose to enter the army and fight for the principles of free governments On meeting Colonel Fairfax they addressed himK civilly, though abruptly. They asked what 'steps h~ had taken to prevent his negroes from joining in the projected in~ surrection. He told them that he did not believe there was any such plot, and that, having no fear of his servants, he had, done nothing but advise them to remain quiet at home, until the agitation should sub- side. They angrily ~rebuked his negligence, an- nounced themselves as a voli~iteer patrol for the regu- lation of negroes and abolitiei~z ists, informed him that they had conclusive proofs \~f ~a wide-spread con- spiracy, with Yankee leader~, and finally declared they were going to examine ~is slaves, and arrest all of them whom they might fihd to be accomplices. He remonstrated, atid rea~on~ with them upon the impropriety of their conduct, he folly of~ their fears, and the mischiefs they a out to \cause. He ad- vised them to abandon their lawless organization, and appeal to the magistrates'iii du~ form.~ Their minds were too highly inflamed to listen to reason, and in the face of such imminent and horrible danger as they fancied, they would not await the slow operation of law. 'He then offered to pledge himself for the good behavior of his servants, and besought the patrol not to molest his family and dependents with their inquisition. They professed respect for him and his family, but insisted that he was deluding him- self with misplaced reliance on the fidelity of his slaves, and they felt bound to proceed. "Then, gen- tleni~n," he said, firmly, "let me 'warn you that you will encounter resistance. I will protect my servants. p 185 page: 186-187[View Page 186-187] ( ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. I have arms." He turned his horse's head homeward~ and left them. Before he was out of hearing, Bob Fans called him back, and informed him that they had consulted together and concluded, out of respect for him, not to visit his plantation that evening. They swore, however, that Palmer, the - old abolition- ist, should n~t escape. They rode off toward that part of the county in which Palmer resided. Colonel Fairfi~x, thu~ apprised that there was dan- ger of violence to that gentleman, sat a few minutes considering how it might be averted. It was nearly dark. He was reluctant to go so far from hi~ own house as to Palmer's while the neighborhood was disturbed. But he. could think of no other way to prevent a disgraceful if not fatal scene. As any de- lay might defeat Jiis purpose, he set off at ~once, rid- ing rapidly, and taking a by-path which saved some distance and enabled him to pass the patrol without being seen. In little more than au~.hour he arrived at Mr. Palmer's house. That gentleman received him with surprise and embarrassment. He was not~aware of the danger in. which he stood at that moment, but he was conscious of participation hi a scheme which might prove perilous to hi~ visitor. The latter pro- ceeded at once to make known the circumstances which induced his visit, and expressed the opinion that the regulators would be at the door in a few minutes. He added a hope that he might be able to ~is~uade them from violence) but advised Mr. Palmer to retire from the house for a short time, offering to remain with the family and save them from insult. But Palmer, whose domestic affections were strong, and who did xiot lack courage to defend his- house- hold, refused to leave, his family. He told his wif~,' and daughters of the danger, and directed them to re- main quiet in their chambers, whatever might happen. The colonel avowed his readiness to assist in defend- * ing the house and person of Mr. Palmer. The latter brought out his arms-two revolving pistols and a double-barrelled fowling piece loaded with buckshot. All the weapons were kept loaded, in anticipation of * trouble, which was constantly apprehended by the owner of them. The hasty preparations for defence were scarcely completed when the tramp~ of horses was heard. The horsemen quickly dismounted and posted them.~ selves in preconcerted order aboiit the house, to pre- vent the escape of Palmer. Fans then drew near the front door and knocked ~t it for admittance. Mr. Palmer opened a, window and would have spoken, but the colonel drew him back and i'equested permis- sion ~to try his influence with the patrol. Looking out of the window, he said- "Fans, what do you want V' "Heavens!" exclaimed Fans, "Colonel Fred's here too." "Ycs,. I am 'here before you, and I am still deter- mined to prevent you from disgracing yourselves by lawless violence. ~Tow tell me what you intend to do G?~~ "We want the old abolitionist, and we will have ~ him, colonel." "What has he done ?" "He's at the bottom of the insurrection." "How do you know that 'i?" "A nigger confessed it all." "I suppose the negro was in the hAnds of your patrol V' "Of course he was." 18t 187 page: 188-189[View Page 188-189] 188 RO]fl$U OK. 1* "You Ilogged him to make him confess'?" "Of course we did." "On. the extorted confession of a negro you pro- ceed to this outrage, then !" now his t4ory's true." "How can you know it'? If you are so sure of it, go t~a magistrate and get a legal warrant. Shame on such lawlessness!" "Colonel, it's no use talking. We are bound to have him out." "Then you must take me first. Beware! You are in n~ore danger than Mr. Palmer4" At this moment .screams of women were 'heard in the house. During the parley one of the besiegers, tempted by an unfastened sash, entered a back win- dow. Hurrying forward in the dark, he opened the door of. j~Irs. Palmer's chamber and rushed in. The ladies screamed, and Mrs. Palmer ran to the. parlor in which the gentlemen were, followed by the in- truder. 'As soon as he appeared, Mr. Palmer fired a pistol .at him, but missed him. The intruder attempted t~o seize that gentleman, at the same time brandishing a knife. As he turned towards Mr. Palmer, Colonel Faiifax grasped him round the body, lifted him from the floor, carried him to the front window, which had been opened, and. hurled him out. He fell, heavily to the ground, and lay there, stunned by the fall. 'All this . passed so rapidly that Paris stood still at the spot from which he had held the parley, and was waiting for some explanation of the noise within the house, when he saw his comrade hurled from the window. He imagined that the man had been killed by the pistol-shot. He was afraid to approach the window. He withdrew to a more remote part of the I grounds. After waiting a short time in vain for his fallen comrade to rise and follow him, he began to consider that the house was prepared for defence, that the defence was resolute and might be desperate, tInt it was condtmcted by a citizen of unblemished reputation and great influence, and that in the end the penalties of law might b~i enforced. lie there- fore whistled the signal of retreat and dre~v off his forces. Soon afterwards the man who had been thrown froni the window crawled aivay and followed his comrades. At first it could not be known how far they had gone nor how soon they might return. It. was some time before the alarm of the ladies subsided. To assure them of safety and to resist another attack, if another~ should be made, Colonel Fairfa~~ remained until a late hour of the night. When, all danger appeared to be over, the colonel, now anxious for the security of his own home, was about to depart. The ladies were profuse in expressions of gratitude to him. Mrs. Palmer 'paid out a neat little speech, redolent of fine sentiments and garnished with scraps of Latin. Even Mr. Palmer so far overcame the restraints of habitual reserve and conscious turpitude as to thank the coi~nel quite warmly. He accom- panied him out of the door and detained him a minute or two on the portico to repeat his grateful words. While he was th~is employed, a pistol was fired in the shadow of one of the pillar~ of the por- tico. A moment afterwards a negro man rushed from the pillar and aimed a blow with a pistol at Mr. Palmer's head. Colonel Faitfax, throwing up his arm, intercepted the blow~ The negro, foiled in both his murderous attempts, ran past and soon disap- r (I R0EJ3UCK.~ 189 page: 190-191[View Page 190-191] 190 R 0D1B U C It.' ROBBUOK. 191 peared. :Upon examination, it was found that a bul- let had passed through the collar of Mr. Palmer's coat, but he wa~ unhitrt.. "It was Mike," he remarked, but he offered no conjecture as ~to the probable motive of the~ass~j*lt,. nor did he propose pursuit. This incident renewed the agitation and alarm of the ladies, and. detained the colonel still longer. At length he started home- ward. I)uring his absence from Roebuckevents had hap- pened which it is necessary now to recount. On Sunday afternoon his daughter, Jigia, went two or* three miles from home to 'visit a poor woman who was sick. Finding the woman q~iite ill she remained with her until it was growing dark.~ Then, mounting her horse-her favorite "Arab "-she started homeward alone. Her road was little more than a biidle-~ath, and led through the skirt of a wood by the spring which wa~ called the Poplar Spring, and which, it may be remembered, Mike had appointed as the place where Jake and ~1at6 were' to meet him about the same hour that Julia was riding home. The spring rose just beside the path and flowed across it. When Julia was ~passing it her horse dropped hi& head to drink, and she permitted him to stop. While he was drinking three negro men stepped into the path. One of them seized the bridle; the other two posted them- selves at each' side of the horse. Each of them car- ried a club. They said nothing. She was surprised, but she was not ac~ustomed'to fear'iiegroes. Even their formidable appearance and movement did not deprive her of courage. Instantly drawing her rein, she struck Arab sharply with her riding-switch, in- tending to break away from the fellow who held the 190 II II 'U f t I I.. bridle. The horse sprang forward, but the negro held fast, and threw him back on his haunches. "You better be quiet," he then 'said. She leaned forward and struck him. across the flice with her switch, saying, "J3~gone! how dare you 1" He winced, but still held the bridle~ "Better 'be quiet, I tell you agin, Miss Fairfax; you shan't be hurt; close up dar, boys;. don't let her git a~*~y." "Who are you ?" "I's Palmer's Mike. I don't keer wh~ knows me, but I won't tell you who dese other fellers is." "What are you going to do with me?" "Jis take you to a safe place." "For what purpose ?" Mike made no reply. He set the party in motion, turning from the' road into the pathless wood, himself ~holding the bridle and the other two n~en walking close by the sides of the horse. They ~went on silently for some time. Their progress was slow among the trees and thickets. Their course led them into the deepest part of the forest. Julia, ignorant of their design and of her destination, a prisoner of three black ruffians, could not wholly resist the depre~siug influ- ence of these alarming circumstance. In the gloom of night and of the 'wilderness her imagination was tilled with frightful visions of coming danger. She watched in vain for some opportunity of escape. Several times she attempted to converse with her cap- tors and to learn her probable fate. But they main- ~tained a sullen and ominous silence.. Still her natural courage was nQt. quite subdued. By a vigorous effort she kept her faculties in readiness for an emergency or an oppQrt4lnity, in spite ~f the quick beating of her 191 page: 192-193[View Page 192-193] 4 heart. Inthe dense wood sometimes the low branches of the trees almost swept her from her saddle. This annoyance at last suggested to her a method of escape. A long, large limb, growing square'~ out from th~ body of a beech tree, at a height level with her chin as she sat upright, was about to st4ke her face in the darkness. She happened to discover it in time to throw her arms over it. In that way she lifted herself out of the saddle and let her horse walk from beneath her. She remained thus suspended in the air until the negroes h&d passed on so far that ~he thought they could not hear the noise of her movement, and then she swung herself along to the body of the tree, and then, climbing above the limb, she sat upon it. She intended to xeniaiu there until her captors, who would, doubtless, niiss her very soon~ should have failed in a search for her ~and left the wood free for her escape. In a few minutes they discoveted that she was not upon the horse. Mike railed at his followers for their negligence, and they were wholly unable to conjecture how or where she had eluded their vigilance. They aU turned back and commenced a search for her in every direction through the forest. She could hear them shouting to each other and sometimes consulting together. Mike appeared to apprehend serious conse. quences from her escape, and gave vent to his chagrin in curses. When they had been searching a long time and seemed almost in despair ~! success, Mike, still leading her horse, passed under ~the branch ~ou which. she was perched. The sagacious and affection~ ate Arab raised his head and uttered the low whinny.. ing sound which is the natural note of recognition and of pleasure with. his kind. The attention of Mike ROflBUCK. 193 'was instantly %ilLrected towards the tree, for he was fiimiiar ~with the habits of horses and knew the supe~ nor intelligence of Arab. ' Tie began to pry among the branches, and in a short tinie he discovered, his captive. She was compelled to descend and resume her place in the saddle. Theni~efortk the vigilance of the guard was redoubled, and avoiding' the darkest parts of the forest, they moved along paths which were known to the negroes. Now ~nd thea they paused and whis~ei4ng' consultations took place among them, which Miss~ Fairfair was~ n~t permitted to hear. Some of these conversation~, however, appeared to be on the point. of running into violent disputes between Mike'and Jake, ~u4she thought her own name was repeated in tones of remonstrance or of auger. how long a time or how far she had been journeying in captivity she could not determinee, when Jake, who walked on her l~eft, approached very cloBe to the horse, and laid his~hand upon her arm. "Stand back, 'villain !" ~he cried, and the. cry arresting Mike, he turned back towards her just aS his rufflanly oom~~ rade seized Miss Fairfai by the waist. She screamed and struggled, but she wasaschild in the grasp of the stout negro. Mike sprang at him, wrenched his hands from Julia; and flung him upon. the earth; His fob lower rose and rushed with fury at Mike,.hut the lat.~ ter struck him ou the head with his club and felled him. Jake lay outstretohed as if he was dead, and Mike, not, knowing whether he was dead or alive, left him and resumed the march. 'He took care, however, to supply the place of the musing guard by his own Watchfulness, so that the captive could not escape. Julia was unable to' recognize any of the places through which she was' carried; until, at length, they ROEBUCK. 192 page: 194-195[View Page 194-195] 1941~oBUCK. came upon a road and she ~aw Marlin's cabin, which - they were abont to pass. The sight of it revived her 'hope of escape~. When they came nearly opposite to .the cabin she suddenly struck her horse with all her force, and~ at the same time called the name of Mrs. Marlin. Arab hounded with such violence that he overthrew Mike, but the determined fellow held fast by the bridle an4 was dragged along the ground. She repeated her blows until the spirited horse was plung- 'ing frantically, but still Mike held' ~n. ~She repeated her cries also until: N[r~. ~Marlin ran out of the cabin.. Awakened and startled by the voice of~alarm, she hurried towards her door and stumbled over a stool. The accident, and' her quick apprehension of danger, prompted her to pick up the stool and carry, it ~ith her as a weapon of defence. Hastening into -the rtad, she recognized the voice and the horse of Julia, and saw Cato running about her~ ~dvancingto~the rescue 2 of her friend, she gave ~ato a vigorous blow with the weapon she carried in her hand, and that timid rascal rolled over in the dirt. He lay very quiet, affecting to be quife disabled. Mike, seeing the turn~ which affairs 'had 'taken, let go the bridle, scrambled to his feet avid ran away. Mrs. Marlin then assisted J~ulia' to alight. She was much ~fatigued, and with the revulsion ~f feeling that overcame her when she ~aw that she was free, she became faint. The good Woman led her into the cabin, and she sat down to rest and recover' her spirits ~ while Mrs. Marlin busied herself in getting a Iigh~, bringijig restoratives 'and preparing a bed. l~1iza also~ aroused from the. Areamless slumber~ of girlhood, ~uhattere4 her sympathy and flew about, eager' to do somethiu~ for Juli&~ comfort. In a siio't time, how- II 195 I Oi& B U C K. 19a ever, the young lady declared herself able to ride, an4 thanking her kind, friends, she determined to return home immediately. 'She knew that her father and mother would be in great'distress and alarm on account of her absence, and ~he was anxious to re- lieve them as soon ,as possible. Mrs. Marlin' would have persuaded her. to take some Tepose, and offered to 'ride to Roebuck herself. When she could not prevail in ~this, she, insisted on walking beside the horse, as an escort for Julia. But ~Xi~s Fairfax wd~uld not suffer her to undertake such a journey afoot, and expr~saed her- belief that she would be in no further danger during that night. She had quite recovered ~her courage and resolved to ride home alone. But when she left the cabin for that purpose, her horse was net to be found. i3oth he and Cato had disappeared. What~then was to be done? The distance to Roe- 'buck was not less than si~ miles. Julia, whose strength Was almost exhausted' by the events of the night, was wholly unable' to walk so far. Yet she could nq1~ bear to leave her parents without intelli.- gence of her safety: After much discussion she was about 'to accede to the proposal of Mrs.' Marlin to \valk to Roebuck, when~ Eliza offered to go to Wil- lowbank and procure ~a horse for Miss" Fairfax. It would be a,~~ra1k of about two miles, and it might be attended with some danger, as the occurrences of the~ night had proved. But the warm-hearted girl desired to serye her friend, and the idea of danger, father stimulated than daunted her. Wheii the p1~oj~ct had 'taken possession of, her lively little brain she did not test until she had brought her mother and Miss Fair- fax to consent to it, and then she tripped away through the darkness. I page: 196-197[View Page 196-197] Before there was time for her to have sent a horse from Wi11ow~bank, a neigh was heard by the women , in the cabin, and Julia, who was lying down, lifted her head and said, "that's Arab." They went out and found that her horse had returned and was stand- ing at the gate. Without further delay Julia mounted him and turned his bead homeward.~ Mrs. Marlin walked half a mile with her, and then, as no sign of danger appeared, and she was retarding the impatient horse-woman, she was persuaded to return. The road to Roebuck was rather obscure and rough, being but little travelled. At night it was~ di~eary. Juli rode on, however, safely and pretty briskly, until' s was about two miles'from the cabin. Then she was slowly ascending a 'hill, and on turning' round a jutting point, she saw a black, man walking towards her and already close to her horse's head. She did not know the truculent Jake, but he recognized her, and immediately seizing her bridle, raised his club. His thffeatening movement startled her, but '~he did not lose her presence 'of mind. Seeing that by no effort could she escape, she determhi~d to try the effect of talking to the fellow. "What do you want 'P' she asked. "1 want you," he answered, and instantly clutched her arm in his great, rough hand. He dragged her downward with such sudden violence that she fell heavily to the ground. Jake stooped' over 'her and then paused. He heard the clatter of a horse's hoofs on the road. He~stood listening and looking until he 'ascertained 'that a horseman, rapidly approaching, was near at hand, and then he plunged from the road down the hill-side' into a wood. He left Miss Fairfax lying almost insensible. When the horseman arrived he leaped fi'om his saddle and knelt by her side. He lifted her head and said, in a tone of tender anxiety-. "Julia, are ~ou hurt ~" Receiving no reply, he placed his arm about her,~ drawing her head to his breast and said, "Julia, dear Julia, Ttell me-are you hurt ~" She feebly answered, "no, not much."' Presently reviving somewhat, she adaed,"" no, thank Heaven, I am tiot- hurt.. I was frightened. My nerves are shaken, but I feel uo pain.". After another pause she continued, "I can rise now." But he whispered, "rest a moment-you are not yet strong enough." Then looking up, she asked, "whom. shall I thank for this deliverance ~" and as the moon, gleaming through the tree-tops, ~began to give some light, she exclaimed-..-" it is Captain Fitzhugh." "Ye~it is I," he replied. 0, how thankful I am," she murinr red. With his assistance she rose and sto6d'a little while, not without his support. Then, as she recovered her strength, she blushed. and withdrew from his arm, saying she was able to ride. After as~isting her to her saddle, Captain Fitzh'ugh.-.--no longer captain, however, for the major of his. regiment bad died. of wounds received at Mana~sa and he had aucce~ded to that rank-niounted his horse and rode beside her towards Roebuck. i9ti flO~i3UGlC. IIOflBUOK. 197 196 197 page: 198-199[View Page 198-199] 198 ROEBUCK. 4 CHAPTJ~R XVIII. LOVE AI~ UOEBUC~. Mxt&s principal1 plan embraced only a speedy flight from the country after provIding a gQod suppjy of money or ofportable ~1ate and of horses. lie thirsted for a particular revenge, but he did not desire to com~ mit uniie~essary acts of violence'which might provoke pursuit or subject him' to severe retribution in the event of his capture. When the evening arrived for th~ execution of his project, he w~ not yet provided 'with a horse ~ueh as he thought desb'able 'for a rapid flight, and he feared that th6se which were to be brought tohiml might not' be' very swift. When ~'liss Fairfar appeared at the Poplar Sprirt~, riding an animal which i~as reputed to be one of the fleetest in the county, lie was suddenly tempted to obtain posses- sion of 'the horse. But he reflected that if he permit- ted Miss Fairfax to go on to Roebuck after ~taking her Jaor~e, the alarm whidt she would' give "might: lead to the defeat of his entire scheme.' It occurred to him, therefore, that it would be safer to carry herewith him and detain her in some secure place until he was ready to set oft' on his long journey. Besides, in tempting to' justify a rash act to himself he conceived a vague notion that she might be valuable as a hostage in cer- tain contingencies. His conduct and his reasoning were alike absurd, and served to prove how incompe.. tent a negro is-even one comparatively shrewd-to devise or execute any complicated scheme. Without RO~BU OK. I99 explaining to his followers, Jake and Cato, the object of his proceeding, he gave 'them the orders which, as we have seen, they executed until JTake, obeying his own passions, attempted an act of violence inconsistent with Mike's plan. When Mike fled from MarliiVs cabin he hastened. to Willowbank.. The hour which he had 'appointed fbr meeting. blind Pete in the grove was already' past; The two men upon whom 'Mike had relied, with the assistance of Hannibal in the house, to execute the rob- bery under his lead, were left behind. On ariiviu4g before the mansion he deii~eratej whether he should undertakethe enterprise with no other aid than that ~f his confederate, Hannibal. H~e anticipated no resis. tance which they could ILot easily overcome; But he feared that if any force should become necessary, Han- nibal might fail to support him, or possibly might oppose him. 'lie therefore, concluded to call in the two men who were to accompany blind Pete. With that view he proceeded to the grove and found Pete' with the two~ ~negroes. Th~y had 'been greatly per- plexed by Mike's deiay, and were about to abandon the ~enterprise and return to their several hi~unt~' He offered them soi~ne piausihle~ explanation of his deten- tion and of th~ absence of Jake 'and Cato. 'He 4old them of the treasure which was .to. be obtained in the house, and enlisted them in then i'obbery; Whil& he was engaged in making this new ari~aiigement, Cato kid mounted Arab at Marlin'~' cabin and foll~~ed him; b at when he' came to Willowbank' he could riot find his leader, aud knowizig nothing' of 'the rendez- vous at the grove, he tur~ied back, and after riding some distance, let tli~ hoi'se Loose and. took tQ the. woods. Arab, finding himself at liberty, went on to the cabin. K page: 200-201[View Page 200-201] 209 ROflBUCK. Mike, followed by the two negro men whom he had just enlisted in the scheme of burglary, approached the front door of the house, expecting it to be opened by Hannibal. The whole house was dark and quiet. lie made a concerted sign at the' door, but it was not opened. He whispered the name of Hannibal through the key-hole, but heard no response. He, went along the poi'ch~ and at every window ende~vored to attract the notice Qf his confederate. Siill Hannibal gate no answer. Mike had almost concluded that he had failed to fulfil' his engagement iirhen one of his meh, listening at the door, heard a loud snore within. Han- nibal had stationed himself there at the appointed hour, 'but during the delay which occurred he- fell asleep. Becoming convinced that he was there, Mike was at a loss how to wake him without arousing all the inmates. After scratching his woolly pate for some time, he hit upon a plan. He found the old door fitted its~ frame so ill that there was apace for the in- sertion of a small stick beneath. it. He procured a rod, sharpened it, and began to puncture the person 'of the somnolent Hannibal. Partially awaking, that sentinel uttered; "ugh, ugh," and sunk back into pro- found sleep. But by perseverance in punching and whispering, Mike finallyjoused himf up, and he opened the door. While he stood rubbing his eyes the three men, who entered passed by him, groped their way to the fQot of the stairs and began to ascend. At that moment they~were startled by a light which appeared at the head of the stairs. Mrs. Fitz'hngh being a nerVous invalid, never slept profoundly~ She had heard almost the first sound made by the negroes on the porch. When it was repeated she called her Bervant, Belle, ~ faithful negress, who I' ROEBUCK. '201 slept in the same room, and sent her to ascertain the cause of the noiae. She retni-ned and reported her belief that robbers were trying to break into the house. Her mistress made her ugh a candle at a:taper which was kept burning dimly in(the chamber. Mrs. Fitz- hugh rose and took down fri old sword which hung in the room and which ha~ belonged to her deceased husband. She directed B~~e to arm herself with the old lady's cane, and then the two women 'sallied out of the chamber to the head of the stairs. The servant set the candle on a stand in the hall and they peered downward to discover what was passing at the front door. It was then that Mike and his accomplices started up the steps. When they came into the light, Mrs. Fitzhugh, seeing 'that they were negroes, sternly ordered~ them to go back,~ ~nd haughtily rebuked their insolence in thusintrtiding into the house. of a lady. They kept until they' stood upon the landing of the stairs, a few steps 'below the two women, and facing them. Mike then paused. It was part of his plan to avoid fatal violence, W possible. He saw th~Ct the women were prepared to make resistance, and, he knew the proud and resolute spirit of Mrs. Fitzkugh. She stood before him in her night-dress, pale, emaciated and feeble, but holding a sword and breathing scorn- ful defiance. He did not doubt his ability to over- come her resistance, bat he hesitated to ~commence a conflictt in which blood might be shed. Perhaps, too, the habitual~ ascendancy of the white rac~' somewhat cowed his spirit. But, after standing a short time, the temptation of plunder ~r ~he reckless feeling that he had gone too far to recede prdVailed. He rushed forward. The two men whQ had stood cowering be: 9* page: 202-203[View Page 202-203] 202 ROBBUCIC. bind him while he hesitated did not immediately fol.. low him. As he approached the head e~ the stairs alone,, Belle, who stood above him, struck a blow with the cane, ~which sent him swaying and staggering back to the landing. He soon recQvered his balance,. and enraged by the stroke, he~ called upon the ether men~to follow, and was about to ascend a~aun.' But Ilannibal~ iiow fully awake, and hearing the noise of conflict, cried from below-~" you 'shan't~i~rt missus. You promised you wouldn't hurt inissus." The worthless fellow, willing to rob his mistress if h~ might share the 'spoil, had too much gratitude for the indulgence& which had- ruined him, or was too faithful' to permit any personal injury to be inflicted upon her. He ran up the stairs with long strides, and seizing one of the men by the throat, began to drag him down; Just then another persZn unexpectedly entered the scenes A white man ran up the steps, and hurrying pasl7 the others, caught Mike,' when h~, bad almost reached the floor above, and. hurled him back headlong to the landing. ' Snatching the'sword from 'Mrs. Fitzhugh, he faced about and' descended towards the negroes. They did not wait for him, but leaped, rolled Or tumbled down the stairs pell..mell, and escaped,' "My dear' Hugh! My' brave' son! Thank God!" exclaimed Mrs. Fitzhugh. ' ' £ There was' not time after this affair for many ex- planations' between her an~ her son, when Eliza Mar.. lin arrived" on the errand she had undertaken for~ Miss Fairfax. When h6~ story had been briefly told, Mrs. Fitzhugh asked her son if he was too much fatigmed ~ to go to the relief of JulIa.' ~He' was eager to act~ upon the suggestion, and since his mother was willing, and be i~houghv there was no danger of a'~renewal of RO~B1ICIC. the attack at Willowbank during his absence,~ 'he started off, and though his horse was jaded, he rode rapidly. He directed a servant to follow him to Mar~. liii's cabin with a horse for Julia. At the' cabin he heard ~vhat the reader knows of her departure, and.' hastened to overtake her; When Mike's attem~t~ at"robbery was Aefeated, he ran tq the, grove iii which he had left blind Pete, and mounted a horse which one of the negroes had stolen and broifght there. He rode 'away, leaving his ac~ coinplices without any explanation of his purpose or any instruction for their own conduct. Frightened' ~nd furious, he thought only of perpetrating- an i~ct of vengeance ajid' then flying from the country. He 'went to 'the house of Mr. Palmer, with no ddhiite plan, but with a general purpose of revenge. To 'his surprise, he found a front window open and light streaming through it.' Peeping in, he saw colonel l Fairfax, seated with Mr. Palmer, and he.' then sta- tioned himself by a pillar, to wait for the colonel's departure and for his own opportunity. 'liehad been there but a short time when the, opportunity offered itsdt; and he attempted to take the life of his master. F'ailung in that attempt, he' concluded that nothing remained for 'him but speedy flight. But the Federal lines were distant, and he distrusted his own ability to make his way to. them. lie had before thotrght of inducing Campbell to act as a pilot for the fugitive l)~rty-~-lle now resolved to apply~to him. 'Going' t& the village, he sought the ;'ear of the Swan tavern, and by a method which he had already i~sed' for ~ clandestine interview~with C~npbell, obtained admiP tance into his chamber. Rousing him from sleep, he told that ambitious plotter "of insurrection that Uap~. page: 204-205[View Page 204-205] ROEBUCK. ROEBUOE. 205' tam Fitzlmgh, with his whole company, had returned to ~the county, ~that they had 4hat night attacked a large party of armed negroes and defeated them, and werethen approaching the village to arrest Qamphell. That gentleman, dreadfhlly alarmed, anticipated Mike's suggestion if flight, and thankfully accepted the ne gro's offer to go With him. "But I have no horse," said Campbell,. in an agi-. tated tone. "Da's a good boss in de stable of dis tavern,." said Mike. "J3ut ha is not mine." "Den steal Mm." - This sharp solution of the difficulty was perforce accepted, though Mike's unceremonious-designation of the process of appropriation was more consonant with the negr9's morality than with the white man's pride. Pride and. honor,. with human and divine laws, yield to military necessity. In the grey of the. nrnrningtQampbell and hi~ sable comrade, mounted on stQleU horses, caught a last glimpse of 'the distant village. Wh~n (Jolon~el Fairfax, after foiling Mike's last attempt upon Mr. Palmer's. life, returned to Uce-. buck, he ~aa astonished at meeting with his wife in the aveuue.~ She was walking there, in deep distress. * His i~rst thought was that his absenee~from home had excited such fear~ for his .safety that she had stai'ted out in search of him. Then he thougl~t~-but before hecould shape out axiother CQnje(~ture, Mrs. Fairfax had. cried-"~Julia---la~e you seen 9ur own'~ dear Julia ~ ~ have ~lost her." Wringing her hands,' s~e gave way to grief and apprehension. Her bus-. ban4, *~lariued by her cries and tears, could not imme- diately obtain from her an intelligible explanation. At length he learned that ~Julia had 'not returned home, and that during the night search had been made for her in every direction and by every person oii the plantation, without finding her or discovering any clue to the mystery 'of her disappearance. .The last that could be heard of her was that, after'.visiting the sick neighbor, she had started to~go home alone about dark. The servants were still searching the fields, the woods and the roads. Doctor Dick, though riding was yet painful to him, was scouring the coun- tr~ in pursuit of his favorite niece. Several wounded Confederate soldiers 'who were entertained at Roe.~ buck, as in a hospital, had left their beds and, on crutches, were looking about in impossible places for the 'missing matron of their infirmary. Everybody loved Julia. When her rather had reflected a moment on what was told him, he inquired whether any one had gone: ~o Marlin's cabin. He was told that some otthe ser- ~vants had been sent on the road which led in that 'db reetjon, but ~t was not known that any one had thought of going the whole distance~ "to Marlin's. Without any distinct reason for sup osing that she might 'be heard of there, her father could not discoyer that anything had' been 'left' undone wj~ich was less unpromising than inquiry at that place.. Inpatient to do something that might enable him to trace his daughter, and agitated by fears which even her mother did not entertain because she knew less than he did of the disturbances in the neighborboo4, he set out to. wards Marlin's. Hi8, wife, whom he soothed 'with hopes which he could not feel, con~~ented to return to the hon~e 'and await the result oi~ his inquiries. page: 206-207[View Page 206-207] 206 ROEI3IICIC. He had not rode more than a mile when he met his daughter with Major Fitzhugh. Recog- nizing her at some distance he exclaimed-" my child! thank God t my c~iild !" He Iea~ed from his hor~e and ran to embrace her. He saw by the moon- light that she was 'extremely pale. , When she leaned down to kiss him,' ajid he felt the tremor of her hand, tears welled up in his eyes. The emotions which suc- ceeded his extreme - anxiety for ,her safety could find no other Where have you 'been all' thi~ night, my daugh- terf" he asked as soon as he could command his voice. "I will tell you all, papa, when wO get home. I am fatigueA but unhurt." seem to' be very feeble, daughter. Can you ride home ?" "Yes, papa, 'but I must ride slowly. Poor mamma!' I fear she' is in distress. . Captaiir 'Fitz- hugh, ~vil1 you have' the kindness' to ride on and relieve her mind ~ Papa will take care of me. You. neglect to speak 'to ~ your friend, Captain Fitzhugh, papal lie has~ placed us' under the greatest obliga- tion to him for my ~safety to-night." ' "-Pardon me; Hugh. You ar& welcome Vo the c'ounty.~ I Will find words to thank you when We arrive at 'the house."~ After a hasty return of the colonel's greeting, Fitz- hugh ~ode oii, while the father and daughter followed s'4owiy.' When' Julia arrived at home, 'she was car- ried to her chamber and laid upon 'her bed, com- pletel.y exhausted. She could not leave'~her room for se'veraj 'days. in spite of hospitable entreaties, Fitzhugh left floe- WOEBUOK. 207 buck as soon as she arrived. He was not willing 'to be longer absent from his mother. lie, too, needed repose. His wound, which ~t first 'was not very trou- blesome, had in the heat and miwholesome camp of Manassa, threatened serious consequences. The sur- geons insisted that he should go home, and when he found that the army was to remain iniietive, he yielded to their advice. Wishing to give his horses the benefit ot 'a Ihrlough, he traveled on horseback. He found himself within a f~# miles of home when night overtook liiiii-the night of the events 'just related.-~--and be pushed on. When he ul~ghted'be- fQre the mansion of Willowbank, he saw a light moving in the house, and, approaching' the door, he found it open. What followed is linown. For a week after' this night 'he could not ~mo~re' from the house, and it was a month before he could' return to the army. The history of Major 1?it~hugh and, Julia Fairt~ix during that month '~yould be the most delightfi4 of narratives, if a story of true' love, when its course runs smooth, could impart to a reader tl~e ha~pines~ of the lovers. ~But the sweetest passage in the life of every man and every xVoman who has kwed' truly and happily is~ sweetest only to two~ beings. Sdch 'love, which 'is' the ~vine of life in the e~p&rie~ioe, turns to lees in the description.' The i'eader wb~ has evei' read by "the purple light" knoWs that wli'en, on that memorable' night, Hugh Fitzhugh knelt beside Julia, with his arm about her waist, and called her "dear Julia," the a Th~tiowwhich had been budding on the friendship of their. youth bloomed into .the perfectt flower of love.~ By what ii~ore explicit 'words the compact ~k' lovers was afterwards ~ealedi~ they might £ ' ' g1 page: 208-209[View Page 208-209] 208 ROEBUCK. / I ROEBUCK. 209 not i'em~mber; but they were lighted. The ap~ proval of their families and the favor of dream- stances left no impediment in~ the way of *eir wishe~s. During the, last three weeks that Major Fitzhugh remained at home he was a daily visitor at Roebuck. Colonel Fairfax had regarded his. talents and his generous, frank and honorable temper with almost paternal interest, even when he feared' that the bright promise 6f his youth might be blighted by the miLdew of: indolenc0 or the canker of pleasure. But.. now, when the strength and dignity of his character were developed by the vocation of a patriotic soldier, and he displayed also the grace ~which a true man derives from wise love, the colonel preudJy recognized in him the qualities which he would' most desire in his daughter's husband. Mrs. Fairfax, with a mother's gentle pride and a woman's natural delight in a happy match, built castles in the air for her daughter, and made her own substantial home more smiling and radjauL than those fabrics of her fancy. Julia, lovely, loving and beloved, was more beautiful than ever, and happier than the happiest dreams of' her childhood. Her voice, like the melody of birds, often warbled her happiness in eong. Hugh Fitzhugh fondly believed that, until then music so melodious had never been heard. Perhaps it was most pleasant to his, ear when it would have been least agreeable to a less passionate listener, for ~ef all her songs his favorite was, THE SOUTHERN CAVALIER. The Ia~nce of chivalry is broke, its irpn mail is rust, B~it knightly truth, and courage live when knights have turned to dust: There never rode a tmer knight in battle or career, Than thisigrey-coated gentleman, the southern Cavalier. F'or nobler cause no champion did ever wield his brand Than ours-the cause of liberty and of our native land; Nor ever did more loyal Icuight uplift his knightly spear Than Jhis grey-coated gentleman, the Southern Cavalier. The brave who for their country die like setting stars go down, To rise again from eve to eve, ii~imortal in renown: None braver stands i~ mark for death, without reproach or fear, Than this gre~~r-coated gentleman, the Southern Cavalier. The gallant soldier after war remains his country's guest,. With praise of men and woman's love~and peace within his breast, And 'fleaven, thati~ loves a righteous cause, hath. smiles his life to cheer P'or this grey-coated gentIeman,~ the goutliern'Oavalier. page: 210-211[View Page 210-211] 210 ROEl3UCl~. CHAPTER XIX. TREMMNL Th the spring of the year eighteen hundred and sixty.~wQ, both Fitzhi~gh and Tremaine had been pro- moted to the rank of colonel in the cavalry of their respeetiv~e services. In the previous autumn Captaiu Fitzhugh, with. his company, was sent~to the Valley, and served under Jackson in guarding the junction, in the winter expedition to Bath and Romney, and in the brilliant spring campaign, beginning with Rernstown and ending with Port Republic, which first made the name of Jackson renowned. Probably no other campaign made by so small a* force in so short ~ time ever produced more Impor- tant elects than the rapid succession of remarkable victories then won by Jackson over several armies. The immediate influence of this hi'illiant and unex- pected success upon the niinds of the Southern people was as extraordinary as it was timely. Never atr any other time during the war until the anal catastrophe was at hand, was the South so despondent as in the spring of eighteen hundred and sixty-two. About that time the overweening confidence inspired by the Confederate successes of the previous year was turned to dismay by several disasters. Most of the volun- teers who composed the army of the~ South had enlisted for a year only and their term of service was about to expire. It was apprehended that not many would renew their engagement, and that a new army I IIOEI~UCK. 211 could not be formed before the disbanding of the old, if at all. It was deemed necessary to pass the law of conscription, which compelled all white male residents between the ages 6f eighteen and thirty-five (with a few exemptions) to serve in the army three years or to furnish substitutes. It required those who k~ vol~ unteered for a yc~r tQ remain in service 4~ears Ion gei~. Many feared .2that tbis~s~vere measiiUuld provoke resistance, but it was obeyed ~ithost uncomplaining patriotism. The law, however, was a violent and inipracticable-ineasgre, and was afterw~i~d~ among the prominent causes of the downfall of the Confederacy. The general alarm ~hi~h~ led to ~its enactment was suddenly relieved by the achkyements of "Stonewall ' Jackson in the~V~lley~ if it ~ proper thus to ascribe to hira alone victories which were due to the marvellous endurance and unconquerable ~val~r of the little army which he led, n6t less: than to the genius of their leader~ It will be readily understood that the activity of that army, the extent of country which it protected, the number of its: battles, with the skirmishes and other incidents of such a earnpai~n, afforded to every man~ opportunities for the display of the best qu~rlitiea of a soldier. The large amount of ~intelligence then in the ranks, the g~neraf spirit[of patriotism and the individual independence nourished in Southern society fitted almost every man to play~an effective part. This vo1um~ cannot be ad&rned with a history of that noble army. We cannot ~sreu take space W cord the particular exploits of' our fr~end~. It must suffice to ine~t~on~briefly that hugh Fitzhugh became a lieutenant-colonel during the winter, that' when the whole army was reorganized in the spring, under the I. It A page: 212-213[View Page 212-213] 212 ROEBUCK. law of conscription,, he was elected colonel, and thai lie was acknowledged to have fairly won his promo. tious by his gallar4 and skilful conduct. At the new election Mark Marlin was chosen a lieutenant, with the unanimous approbation o~' the young. gentlemen and other members of his company. With his corn- mission he acquired the ~oeial rai~k of a gentleman, according to the theoryy o( his youthful ambition, and his deportment was faithCul to his model. About the same time such changes took place. in the -military liue~ that: XI~oebuck became accessible to the Federal troops. The county remained for a time debatable ground, and was visited occasionally by cavalry from both sides. At length, however, a Federal detachment was stationed -in the village, under the command of Colonel Tremaine. It was suf- ficient, with the support of a larger force at no great distance, to hold the county, but not to prevent occa- si~al and rapid, incursions of Confederate horse. The Federal cavalry in Virginia was still inferior, and poverty had not yet unhorsed the Confederates. At the thne of the events about to be narrated,~ Colonel Fit~hugh, with his regiment, was stationed some twenty miles from the village, and a- considerable dis- tance in advance of any large Southern army. The force under Colonel Tremaine was composed of his own regiment of cavalry, ~and a regiment of infantry. The latter - was commanded by IAeutenant-CoPrnel Wesel,, a -German, who was in daily expectation~ of being promoted to the office, of colonel of his regi- inent, then vacant. He had. been a butcher in a Northern city. He was a blatant politician of the jirevailing order, and had been active in drawing his eounti~ymen into the regimeiit. He was, therefore, U011]3 U C IC. 218 patronized by some influential persons. He and his men had been taught to look upon "rebels" as atro- cious criminals, out of the pale of humanity, and upon their property as lawful prey. Some- companies of the cavalry, though composed of native Americans, had similar notions, and their officers were not unwil- ling to fill their~ pocket; or ftirnish-- their house; or decorate their wives b)* the- pillage 'of their Southern brethren. Amon~ the officers attached to this force was Albeit Palmer. We left that gentleman, just after the battle of Manassa, and on the morning of his duelwith Baxter, deliberating upon the expediency of transferring him- self to the 'North. Having resolved that question in favor of his native lan~e proceeded on foot towards Washington, taking c~ to avoid the parties of Con- federates who were ~t1I~iu to l~e expected puhis route. The next morning ab.ut dawn he approached a Fede- ral picket on the Southern side of the 'Potomac. He approached cautiously, and, ~s it was -thought, suspi- ciously, dressed in Confederate uniform, and the picket took alarm and retired. The panic Qf Manassa had not y~t stibsided~ A report soon spread as far as the city of Washington that a large rebel armywas 'nt the southern bank of the river and produced great &om- motiOn for several hours. In the meantime Palmer, by skilfiul mana~uvre; contrived to get within hail of a I~'ederal party,, and made known his friendly pur- pose. A deserter from the rebel army, at such a mo- ment, was received, with. distinguished consideration. Of course, 'he professed to have been a staunch friend of the Union from the beginning, and told marvellous stories of the, persecutions which he bad suffered Un- til, affecting to favor the rebel cause, he had accepted I page: 214-215[View Page 214-215] 214 flOEBt7Ol~. I 'I employment in the Southern army, with a view to 'desert. at the earliest' safe opportunity. Thus he won favor,' and his efforts to ingratiate himself with those who had the disposal of ofilees were seconded by Campbell after his Iiig'ht to the INorth. Thus he re~ turned to the county of his residence an officer in the army which he had gone forth' to oppose. "He came back with some particdkr resentments to gratify, and to some remains of the original prejudices of a stran- ger by birth he "niigbt add the vindictive zeal of a renegade in regard to the' people of Yirginia~ 'Soon after Colonel Tremaine established his head- quarters' at the Swan travern, he was visited by Cob 'onel Fahfax. Themeeting between them; though not~ wholly' free from constraint, 'was friendly on both sides.' Colonel Tremain~ took occasion to repeat, the expression of his gratitude' for' hospitality and kind~ ness~*whieh,'he said, had. probably saved his life. 'Cob onol Fairfax,' promising that his former guest' would not'~expect him to express pleasure at the e~tablkh- ment of a Federal force 'in the county, added that, since that misfortune could not l~e averted, he was sin.. cei'ely gratified to find 'Colonel Tremaitie in com- mand. He proceeded to ~tate. the special object of hi~ visit. "I desire to know (if you think proper to inform me) what course you intend to pursue with reference to our unarmed citizenss who remain at home.' You have heard me express my political 'opinions. The fortitne~s of war do' not 'change our. convictions of right.c~-M~..&~ntiments are the 'same as those Which *g&erlly prevail in the county. ]3ut we acknowl- '~ed~e' the duties ~hich spring from adverse events, and intend to perform them ns, I 'doubt' not, your duties will be performed with equal fidelity." RO~BUcE. 215 "Since you allude to my duties," replied Colonel Tremaine, smiling, "I would be pleased to know what duties you think I owe to your citizens in the present situation of affairs here?"' "Pardon me, colonel, lam net here to lecture you. I intended only to express courteously my confidence in you." "But, really, I desire to know your opinion. I have cowfi~ence in your fairness aud your. judgment. It may be necessary for me to understand the seuti.. mnents of the people in order to determine how they should be treated. I believe that Whatever you tell me will be true, and whatever you promise will be performed. .1 wish you to speak frepl~Yr in ~behalf of your people." "We know, Colonel, that your first dutyis to pro- mote the success of2yourgoveininent in the war. To' that end we. expect yoi& to do whatever a just and humane man may do.' We' e±p~ct, while you remain 'in possession,, t& submit in good' faith Ao' a power which we cannot resist and desire 'ii~t to in ate: I take it for granted, that you will refrain from harass- hig citi~iens who refrain from hostile conduct. I should think, if you permit 4ie to, say so, that it will be your duty to ~roteet them, as far as you can, in th~ir' homes, property and innocent~ avocations. Your force supersedes all ~otlier authority in the county, audit would seem ~iat, where submissionn is 'a duty,~ pr6tecti~n is ~ right." "I believe we shal hot quarrel, Colonel Faitfa~, it' your citizens act in the spirit which you attribt*ti~ to them. I~annot "make explicitt stipulations witifyon. I must reserve tjie free exercise of dise~etionary ,authority. For the present tell your people to trust V page: 216-217[View Page 216-217] 216 ROEBUCK. me and I will trust them. I shall issue such regiila- tions as I deem necessary to be observed on their pai't. Some of them will be strict and may appear unreasonable. I cannot publish the reasons for them. But, if you niake allowance for the harsh necessities of war, I believe you will consider me: both just and humane. I shall expect obedience to my regulations at all events. If any of my men insult or pillage or oppress the citizens, let. those who are wronged apply to me for redress.'~ After some further conversation, iuwhich an invita- tion was given and accepted to visit Xoebuck, Colonel Fairfax retired. The next day Mr. Palmer called on Colonel Tremaine. Notwithstanding his son had so openly appeared in the Federal service, that cautious gentleman still hesitaVed to offend his neighbors by a precipitate display of Union sentiments. lie, did not call on the commaftder of the Federal force in the vil- lage Alntil' he. heard' that so conspicuous a rebel as Colonel Fairfax had visited him. Even in conversing with Colonel Tremaine he rather insinuated at first than avowed his adhesion t~ the cause. represented by that officer. But by degrees he led the conversa- tion to political topics and to the affairs of the county, and broached some opinions for the guidance of the '~colonel. lie represented the citizens of the county as, almost without exception, uncompromising rebels. Re complained, espeoitdly1 that the wealthy gentlemen devoted their riches to~ the support of the rebellion. Glancing at Colone1~ Fairfax, he said that one of the most prominent of that class had, during the past year, devoted, the whole of his large revenue and valu- able crops to the support of the Confede~ate cause or to the families of soldiers, and had induced the county p ROEBUCK. 217 court to make such liberal contributions that those families lived in greater ~bundance thau~ they had known before the war. lie thought that such power- ful stimulants of rebellion ought to be snpWesse& by depriving the wealthy rebels of their property, He suggested thali their estates might be admbiistere~ under military n~le fori the benefit of the government. * As Colonel Tremaine listened in silence to the long una winding disco~irse in which he cautiously devel- oped the~e ideas, he even ventured ~vo intimate that he was willing to administer those 'estates. At. length he paused, and the colonel observed: "I suppose the gentlemen to whom you allude have * been generously supporting a cause which they hon- estly approve." "'I do not perceive, however, that their honesty makes their conduct defensible." "Would you. expect honest men to support a~cau~se which they believe to be wrong 7" Mr. Pahuier winced at the question, for he suspected that it was a hint at some meagre contributions whic1~j he had made to the Confederate cause. But, after a moment's hesi4ation, he replied: "We have to deal with effects rather than motives." "It is~a fact, however, woi'1~hy of observation, that nearly a11 the honest. men of the South appear to be against us in this struggle. In proportion as they scorn sordid interest~, in' coznpa$son with high princi- ~Ae, appears to be their zeal for the Southern cause. They evince, toe, in supporting. rebellion, generous sentiments.-~-sentiments which we wonld certainly applaud if we could approve their cause." "Do you, then, justify therebels 1" ~1 I I I .1 I .1 page: 218-219[View Page 218-219] 218 1~OEBtYC1r. UOEBUOI~. "Far fPpm it. For m~iriy reasons the public weP fare, in my judgment, requires the rebellion to be sup- pressed. For that Purpose I havo~ usedf my sword and risked my life. But our government is not now deal- ing with. a rabble of rioters or a mob ofd~sperate and wicked insurgents. Already i~or a whole year it has been carrying on a vast war against great communi- Lies,.constituting powerful States and embracing most of the woitli arid ~isd~m of the South. ~These communities have aited in the exercise of a right which they have 1~en educated to believe is inherent iii their States. They act through their ancient State governments and through a new government formally organized. They carry on regular war #th large ariliies: If we treat this as a ease of simple rebellion we shall fall into a fatal fallacy. It is war-civil war. All history proves tha'~ in sn~,h wars it is equally unwisp and~ unjust foi~ one party to treat the other as criminals. Civil wars usually divide a nation and spring *S~dm political questions about ~which honest citizen~ lip large neatly differ~ They are so doubtful l4ut a portion 6f the nation is found on the~ on~ side an~ on the other. Frailty, passion or. error of one party or of 1~oth, brings them to bloWs.~ Each believes its conduct to be pat4otic. Without criminal purpose how Than ther& be ~i'ime! It is ~ case 'of war which eou~'ts cannot ad~tid.ic.ate and fo~ which laws'cannot pro, ~ride. There is iio arbiter between the parties to a war but the sword. The sw&i'dis ~enseless aiid decides no question 'of iight. It 'determines only the preponder~. ance of force. It is absurd then for either party to accuse the other~of'crime." "At all events, 'colonel, you must admit the pro.. pricey of taking from the rebels the means of support.. sing the reb~llkn." I "Jitet me answer you in the language attributed by the most ~renowned author in our language to his fa~ror- ite hero. We~give express charge that, in our marches through the country, there~be'nothing compelled from the villages; nothing taken but pai&for, none of the French upbraided or abused in disdainful /language; for when lenityy arid crueltyy play for a kingdom the gentler gamester is-the soonest winner." "According to your ideas, nobody should be pun- ished for this rebellion after it is suppressed." "War should end in peace, not punishment. Paw. islunent then is the revenge of victors upon the van- quished, of the powerful upon the defenseless.' As.we shorten war by making submission safe we shall oon- firm peace by making it honorable~ A civil war, being between' brethren, should, if possible, end like the quarrel of J3rutus and Cassius on tha stage, in a rivalry of loving penitence. But, since w~ cannot expect such a romantic revulsion' of the passions of * war, we may ~t least remember that, if submission is the duty of the~conquered, magnanimity is the virtue or conquerors. 'The offence is the offence of a eommw' nity; war and defeat are the punishuient~ of a coi~amu- * 'nity4 Among millions of people engaged in resistance, human jmdgn~cnt cannot discriminate and assign to each his peculiar share of blame. We ~must deal wit~h the commiudty." "It is easy to discrirninate'~between the leaders and the rest." "If that were true, why shonidwe take vengeam~ce on the best, the chosen men of a peo$e, and let those who have chosen theni go free V' "I cannot imagine, colonel, hoiv you propose 4o assert the snpremaey of ~he gev~rnrne'4 and dispose of the rebels." page: 220-221[View Page 220-221] I'' 220 "Suppress armed resistance by the most vigorous measures.-~establish again the laws of peaceful society '-and trust the- defeated' party as a party of honest, but mistaken citizens. I am confident ~that when its military power is broken, the' South will submit, and once submitting, will franklyrfulfil the duties of. its new position. I' believe that the South'will ~always be to its 'ancient instincts of frankness and manly honoi~." "I am glad that, 'at least, you speak' of the submiss. Sion of the South." "Yes; submission to lawful authority, not to dis. honor. That 'I could never require. 1 wish to see the people of the South remain~ my countrymen, and I desire no dishonored 'nieii for my countrymen~" "What guaranties can you have that rebellion will not be' renewed, unless you 'inflict punishment and strip these people of power r' "Unle~s the might of arrni~s, the awe o defeat, the 'experienKee of war, and a restoration of fraternal feel~ ing shall bind the people to the government, the blood of their martyrs will not cement the Union, nor will the desperation 'of poverty and disgrace make men quiet citizens. We may compel them to sti~mit. by force; if we 'would have' them l&yal at heart, we must win their hearts." colonel, you do not know their bitterness. J3ut' you must have heard Doctor Dick Fairfax at Roebuck." "Yes; when I' heard his in~r~ctives against the North---though they seemed to be spoken half in a spirit of waspish jest-4 listened always with pain and sometimes with indignatioti. I suppose his virulence is an exaggerated 'specimen of tht~ 'antipathy engen- '1 I '4 ROBBTJClC~ 2~i 4lered in' the minds of the southernn people by our un- happy controvei"sies. When I heard JAm I thought of those Northei~n fanatics and demagogues, who, by the injustice of theiv~4nj~.~ and lai~guageyespecting the South, had excited such enmity in a heait which I found otherwise amiakle and~ generous. If wt~, as the stronger section, provoke resentments -and then punish them, we are doubly unjust. But, ~r. Palmer, we have wandered. imto a. discussk~u of question~ which we have not to decide. It would have been enough to say that I. do ~ot~ intend to deprive the citizens of their property unless it may ~he taken from necessity, and in accordance with the rules and usages of civilized ~warfare~" "I must confess, sir, that you appear. to be luke- warm in the, great cause." "When you have ~hed your blood for the Union ~you may reproach me. Good ~ornings~r." "You are very attenti'4~e to the rights of rabel4" " All men hiive th~ rights of humanity.: Do, you require. nw to teach you tha~ I have the rights of a gentleman '~ Once more, I bid you good morning, sir." ' - DIr. Palmer did no~ 'wait foi' another repetition of the hint, but retired. Under th~pmildiand firm adrninistr4ion oi~ Colonel 'Tremaine~ ~tie county was quiet. Disorders were i~e4. pressed. rthe c~1tizens 8oon Thlt almost ~the same se- cm4ty as in time of peace. Those who liad fled re- tuined. The people instead of invoking the Confede- rates' to attack the 'Federal force' at the village for' their relief, deprecated th~~ approach of Confederate troops. They wanted repose. Some of them, weary of war; began to repent their separation from a. gov- Ii page: 222-223[View Page 222-223] I I II ROEBUcK,' eminent which showed itself benignant in the con- duct of its officer. Perhaps, if a similar policy had been pursued everywhere during the war, the pr~dic- tion of Doctor Fairfai ~at th~ South would not maintain the struggle more than two years, might have bee~i fulfilled. J~ut the conduct of Colonel Tremaine was censured by T~ientenant-Oo1onel Wesel, and s6nie others of the Command. They~ chafed under the restraints of discip.. - line. Their passions dexiianded licence. Mr. Palmer also, ~nd his eon, Were disappointed and oft4ended. An intrigue was hatched for the removal of Colonel Tremaine from the coTiunand. He was accused of inertness, of cruelty to his men, of indulgence to rebels. It was insinuated that he f~lt a criminal gra- titude for the kindness which he had received as a wounded prisoner. It- was observed that lie dined with a noted rebel, and listened ox~ Sunday to a ser~. mon delivered by an old preacher, who was known to sympathize with his f~Ilow-citizens in th9ir trials. It was alh~ged that he would neither force nor entice Servants away from their masters. In fine, it waS concluded that ~jie sympathized with the rebellion. At leiigth this intrigue waS successful. Colonel Tr~- maine was ordered to Washington to answer for his conduct, and Wesel, promoted to the rank of colonel, was left in command, with ample authority to scourge the spirit of secession from the county. Then com- menced. a new administration of a different order. 223 * CHAPTER 2XX. GABRW~t.. THE savage and futile policy-of reducing -the- south to submission by destroying~ provisions- anti -impl~- weds of husbandry, ~and by comArerting the- land into a barren waste, had not ye~ been formally avowed by high authority9 It w-as executed in pai~4eu1ar places 'with more or less ferocity, according to the teinperof each commander. Those who were prone to that mode of warfare derived sufficient encouragement from the- orders -exehiding medicines from the ~oxith, ~md- other acts of the government, denying to the Southern people those rights of humanity whi~oh. are conceded to enemies by -the usages of ciyilized war~ fare. Such atrocities. received no countenance from ColonelTremaine, but they suited the temperament of his ~uc~~essor~ During the fii'st two years of the war, discipline in the vast armies ~f the North was-less perfect jthau it afterwards became9 Small bodies, detached from~ the main armies, soon beea~n~e very-disorderly and lawless, unless controlled 14 a firm and judicious - officer. In a short time, the force under ColonelWesel ~eoame little better than. a licentious rabble. At ~rst the baser sort of men, sweepings of streets, brawlers and bruisers at home, became drunken, thie-vi#h and riotous. Their impunity, and the conta~1on of vice, corrupted others.- Many men, not thoroughly vicious, require the curb of military discipline when they are I 222 1~ ROEBUCK. page: 224-225[View Page 224-225] ROEBU OK. exempt from the. geDtle but constant restraints of civil society. Towar4s the citizens tl~e demeanor of the colonel 'was so brutal that his worst men were eii- coirraged to indulge their worst passions.~ Thi~s, un~ der his orders, or through the ioentious effects of his administration, the county was given up to pillage and oppre4sion. All horses were captured as legitimate prizes. Cows, sheep and swine, were killed in wan. tonness. Mills and barns were burned. Fences were destroyed. Dw~ellings were entered and ransacked by night or day; private papers found in them, were torn and #c~ttered; clothing of women and children was rent to ribbons, or carried off; jewelry was rudely wrenched from the persons ofladies, and farni~ 'lies were, put in terror of death or a Late worse than death. Farming implements, food and' forage were systematically destroyed or removed. Men were in. suIted, and upon the slightest show~ of resentment shot down. The slaves were persuaded, and, in some oases, 'compelled to leave their homes. The men were drawn to the camp as servants, or suffered to roam about and live by pillage. The women, easily coimpt~ed, were kept by the soldiers in sties about the village, or wandered they knew not whither. Many 'of' the servants deserted Roebuck, charmed. with the idea of freedom. Negroes, parasites by nature, cling to the strongest power that stands iiear them. How ever absurd the notion~ which they assooiat& with liI~.. erty, exemptio*r from compulsory labor ha~ a special charm for the ipdolent and thoughtless creatures. Credulous and servile, they were easily deluded and led away by m~n'.who belonged to the race they were accustomed' to revere, and who came With professions of exclusive friendship for them. They could not re~ I I ROEI3UCItR 225 ject a boon offered by a subtle tempter, promising that it should make them to be as gods, 'notwithstanding the decree of nature forbidding this fruit of freedom to thejr race on pain of death. Mr. Palmer, it may 1k remembered, had reserved from sale a negro man, named Gabe, ~ho was ex- pected to be kept at home by a ~tnpid contentment with his lot or a stolid incapacity to conip~s5 another. When some of his Northern ~atrons, r~mbllng from the~ village, plied' him with temptation, 1~is woolly head was, profoundly perplexed. The novel thought. of running away from his master after it once ob- taIned a lodgment in his brain, stuck fast, but he did ~not know what to do with' it.~ He went moping aud stumbling about in woful contemplation, until at length h~ arrived at a conclusion which 'lie expressed tQ himself in the formulae-" rs a thinkin' I letter be a ~wine." Greatly relieved by the resolution of his doubts, he kept muttering bis, formula, a~ if he feared that unles~ he kept the words in his 'mouth the jdea would fly out of his head. For several days he sat, or walked, or worked, with constant repetition of the sentence-" l's a thinking' I better be a gwine." Some knowledge of his frame ~f mind reached his master and mistress, and. they began to fear they would. lose ,their only man~servi~nt through the officious kindness of their Noithern friends.. One evening this subject, among others, engaged the attention of a family council 'held in the parior-~. present, Mr. Palmer, Mrs. Palmer and 'their ~son, Albert. It was~ agreed th~t, under existing cii'cum- stances, Gabe could' not be detained by force, and that it would be dangerous to' attempt to spirit, him away to a slave-market. It seemed almost certain 10* I t 224. page: 226-227[View Page 226-227] 226 UOEBUCIC. ROEBUCK. . 227 that he would prove a t6tal loss. This ~rospect made them for- the moment regard the proceedings of a benign government as rather oppressive. At last a desperate expedient occurred to Mr. Palmer the elder. He rang the bell and summoned Gabeto the parlor. "Gabe," said he, with solemnity, "I am afraid you are thinking about running away to the Yankees."' "l's a thinking' I better be a gwine, master," re- sponded Gabe, in his well-conned formula~, without insolCnce of manner, but with stolid apathy. "Gabriel,"' resumed his master with impressive condescension, "you ought not to .go. You are a poo; ignorant nigger, and you do not know what is for your good. I have only your own welfare at heart. You have now a good home. If you run away you will have none. These Yankees are foQling you. They care nothing abo~t you. They merely want to injure the South by taking away its labor. I take care. of your family. You and they fare better than poor wbite folks at the North. You are going to leave friends and protectors for strangers. N6body will feel any interest in your welfare. Everybody will strive to take bread out of your mouth to feed themselves. You cannot compete with white labor~ ers among white employers. In fact, you know you won't work without a master. You will let your children perish. You will be a beggar, an outcast, a vagabond. Take my word for it, if you trust these Yankees you will rue it as ltng as you live. Now will you run away, Gabriel !" "I's a tjiinkin' I better be a gwiue," answered Gabe, as before. "Gabriel, you will commit a grievous sin. You would not go against the Bible, would you! I will expound your duty to you out of the Holy Script~ires." Taking up the Book and drawing Ida spectacles down upon his nose, Mr Palmer proceeded. 'to 'read and expound some- selected passages, while Gabe stood before-him, twisting a button and perusing the carpet. "Hear niw," he continued, "~what is commanded in the twenty-fifth chapter of Leviticus-' Both thy bondmen and thy bondmaids '-that means our slaves,~ Gabi'iel-' which thou shalt have, shall be of the heathen that are round about you; of them shall ye buy boudin~n and bondmajds. Moreover of the chil- dren of the strangers that do sojourn among you, of them shall ye buy and of their families tl~at are with you which they begat in your land:, and they shall be * your possession. And jre shall take them as an in- heritance for your children after you, to inherit them for a possessi4)x; they shall be your bot~dmen forever.' Now, Gabriel, your forefathers were heathen, you know, and so the white people were commanded to buy them for slaves, and to hold them and their chib dren. as a possession forever. My forefathers in ~ew England bought many of them, a~hd made great gains by theni, which proved that their trade was blessed. When slavery became, unprofitable in ~ England, whereby ~ appeared that' the institution was no longer blessed there, they sold their- slaves to the Southern people, with advantage to all parties-. So my 'ancestors again had golden experience that godlb ness is great gain, and. they have continued 4o be a godly and a' gainful people to this very day. The passage I have read requires the slaves to' be an in-~ heritance for the children of the' masters. I did not receive you by inheritance, but ~{ew England men f i page: 228-229[View Page 228-229] 0 228 ROEBUCK. can,, by the Divineblessing, obtain the inheritance of the children of Virginia as Jacob got the birthright * of Esau by substituting kid for venison. Thus it is proved out of Scripture, Gabe, that you must stay * with me. What confirms this interpretation i~ that the institution of slavery ~in. the South has been blessed with wonderful usefulness to mankind.. While the slaves multiply and thrive, they have added more to the wealth, comfort and civilization of the world, by tillage, than any other equal number of laborers ever did in the same length of time. You know they never would' have done all this work if they had been free, and you know that white men could not have done it. So it. is the will of God, Gabriel, that you shall not run away to the Yankees. stand'?" . Do you under- "I's a thinking' I better be a gwin.e." "Now, my good and faithful servant, 'let me read to yom what Saint Paul says-h...' Exhort servants to be obedie~nt unto the'u own masters and to, please them well in all things; not answering again;, not purloin- ing but showing all good fidelity '-~that means you must stay with me, Gabriel-and again, 'Let as many as, are under the yoke count their own masters worthy of all honor. * * * And they that have believing masters '.-.~-like me, Gabriel..-..' let' them not despise them because they are brethren but rather do them service '-mark that, Gabriel, do them service. Now will you l!y in theface of Scripture'?" "l's a thinking' I better be a gwine." "Poor Gabriel, I fear your understanding is dark and. your heart hardened. ferh4ps we may obtain light to direct youi' steps, or to step them, by prayer. Let us pray." 229 He knelt down, a~ did also. his wife and son. Gabe, who1. had been taught, not ,to pray; but to stand, in the presence of his betters, and who did not under- stand that he had been ordered to kneel, remained in hi$ erect posture. He twisted his button and perused the carpet, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, while his~ lips moved,, not in prayer, but in repetition of his fugitive formula. His master prayed very earnestly, in a manner which he thought must impress the mind and melt the heart of his se~wint. Then he paused, and casting his eyes on Gabe, dis- covered that he was still standing. "How is your mind now, Gabriel ?"' he inquired. "ra a thinking' I better be a gwine." "Kneel down, Gabriel." Gabe obeyed. lie crossed his arms over the bot- tom of a chair and laid his forehead upon thern~ The prayer was resut~ied with increasing fervor. It be- came so eloquent~ unctuous and ituportunate that Mrs. Palmer was moved to sigh, and then to groan, and finally .to respond audibly Amen and Am~n. Again pausing, Mr. Palmer turned to his . bon4man, bought with his money, and said-" how do you feel now, Gabriel ~" a thinking' I better be a gwine," muttered Gabe. "Good God t' exclaimed his master, bouncing to his feet, "have we a government that will ~Qt protect our property?" Mrs. Palmer and Albert dlso rose, but Gabe re- mained kneeling, with his face upon his arms, and' lijs arms upon the chair. His misb~ess, gazing at him a moment with rifling scorn, ihen.. strode with rectan- * gular solemnity to' hi~ side, and, stretching out. her arm over his bead, thus adib9essed him; ~t tu, .&ute-.-ungrateful nigger~~-.rngrOqU6 simil~ I~OEi3UCK. page: 230-231[View Page 230-231] I flOI~l3tr OK. 230 linza cyctzo~-aft'er all we have done for you-we might have sold you with the rest-.we might now have the money in our pockets~.-you will iun away, will you- what black ingratitude-...who would believe it-credat J"dceus Apelia.-.PII never trust a nigger again-go then-run, starve, beg, steal~ die, rot-go this night -don't sleep again under this roo~-~and mind, dont, steal anything when you go-take off that suit and put on your old olothes...~-obey me or I'll have you whipped-'--I hope you'll rue this hour in want and woe to th~ end of your days-begone, you black rascal, begone." But Gab& did not rise He was fast asleep. As soon as his head rested on a chair slumber began to creep over him: When his master addressed him he was partially aroused, and muttered his well-conned response between asleep and awake. Under the monotonous declamation of Mrs. Palmer he lost, all consciousness. After the close of her address his only reply 'i~*as a sonorous snore. Albert, discovering the truth of the ~case,~ and being. huruself cool enough to feel the ridicule of the situation, quietly approached Gabe, and laying a hand on itis shoulder, woke him. Gabe leaped up and looked about him with amazement. "Begone !" said his old master. "I's ~ thinking' I better~ be a gwine." Gabe hustled out of the parlor with less servile cer- emony than he had been accustomed to display in retiring from the presence. The family council, resuming its s~ssion,. disc4lssed various topics, and among them the Fairfaxes of Roe- buck came under consideration. The course and con- elusion of the coiisultation respecting that family need not now be stated. So far as results followed from it, A RO1~l3UCK. 231 of' interest to the reader, they will appear in the Bequel. While the name of Fairfax was yet upon their lips the signal of blind Pete was heard, and he was admitted. He came to report that Colonel Fitz. hugh was spending the night at UQebuck. Albert Palmer, eager to avail himself of the information, mounted his horse, and after giving an order to Pete, rode to the village~ Pete's clandestine information was so far correct that Hugh Fitzhugli visited Roebuck that night, but left there before Albert Palmer could hav~e ai'rived at the village. Going with his regiment upon an expe- * edition, he passed near Roebuck in the night. While the regiment halted foi~ a brief rest he rode off with a small, escort to visit Colonel Fairfax, and ascertain from him whether the ~-umors were true which he had heard of the outrages committed upon the people of the county. After conversing with the colonel upon that subject, he indulged himself with a brief delay, te talk with Juliaupon& subject of more tender interest to them than to the public. Then, while he lingered yet a little longer, conversation turned upon the desolation of Virginia a!ad the suffer.. ing of her people. A large portion of the State was ah'ea~iy ravaged and devastated. The flower of her youth and manhood had been cut down by thousands. From the first to the last hour of the war the blood of the State flowed in torrents, and in all her borders it seemed that nothing eould~stand erect under the in- cessant storm of wLir but her unconquerable spirit. Those who then fondly protracted a hurried conversa- tion, to deplore the afflictions of their beloved Com- monwealth, e~uld not foresee that they would never meet again under the1ro(f of Roebuck. They knew~ page: 232-233[View Page 232-233] 232 ROEBUOE. 233 * not the ruin that was yet hidden in the darkness of that very night. Happy ignorance of the future! They had fortitude to bear th~ ills which they had known, but who could endure a knowledge of the* time to conie ~ Fitzhugh took leave of ColoneV Eair~ Lax and Mrs. Fairfax with words of cheerful anticipa-. tion, and in accents that became sad, in spite of his efforts to cheer their hearts, he was about to bid fare~ welL to Julia. He pause and said, "My dearest Julia, I x~iust carry with me the memory of your sweet voice in song. Sing one song for me before I leave you." At such a monent her voice could not be quite free from. the tremulous effect of her emotion, but she, too, was exerting herself to lighten the sadness of hearts 6he loved, and not permitting her tones to betray her heart too. plainly, she sung ,a song~ YIRGINIA. Virginia bleeds and weeps for Woe But feels no touch of Shame; Beneath ocIips~ her glories glow With undiminished flame. A virgin queen with laurel crown, A sovereign of the free, She vows to trample tyrants down for liberty. Not always thus shall droop her head, She will tejoiee again: ~?o blood so pure for freedom shed / Was ever shed in vain. An~ altai every battle-field On which her sons have died-.. Its smoke, like incense, has appealed Where right is ~1ie'er denied. ROEBUCK. CHAPThR XXL. D1TST1WHACIW~ AT X~OEUUOK~ AMoNG the Federal officers at the village ~as Cap-.~ tam Pakin, who led a oompaty of marauding cavalry. He was active, daring, cruel and treacherous. He was a favorite instrument of Colonel 'Wesel in ex~ ecuting all plans of bold. adventure or ruthless re~ venge. By virtue of a round, red Lace, ~a jolly laugh, and a fondness for the bottle, he was called a good fellow. The~ licence which he allowed to his men made him popular among them. He had been a preacher. After wearing out religion as a theme of popular eloquence, he took to preaching politics from the pulpit. The political agitation of the day was the controversy between the North and ~South, and that, curiously enough, turned mainly upon Southern slavery, which excited no dissension where it existed, but offended the North, where it was ubkuown. The pretext for introducing it into the sacred desk, and beating the "drum ecclesiastic" for recruits in the political warfare of the North against the South, was that slavery was a sin. Erom the exclusive attention given to it, the reverend gentleman's hearers might have concluded that it .was the only sin extant, and, consequently, that those who were free from it were saints. It was so atrociouS a erhue, that the preacher in denouncing slave-holders, ~1auced ii~ the pulpit with sacredd fury. The sentiments which foamed from his 232 page: 234-235[View Page 234-235] * 2~4 ILOEBUCI~. RO]i~BUCK. 235 lips were unearthly. A mortal who has not, been in Ileav'en, dares not affirm with confidence that they were Heavenly. But it may be presumed that there ~is a world above or below us in which they might take their origin. A~ all his hearers were free from the guilt which he denounced, his denunciations may appear to have been superfluous; but they had the* happy effect of cultivating in the hearts of his congre- gation a comfortable sense of their own perfection in comparison with those-distant sinners, together with a holy. hatred. of those reprobates. Besides, they swelled a certain volume of votes. Ambitious to ex- tend the sphere of hi~ usefulness, or preferring the applause of a multitude to the still decorum of a church, this clergyman turned atreet-.preaeher. From porticos of public buildings, or from bbard-piles in vacant lots, he harangued- the mob on Sunday after- noons as they were harangue& by the other dema- gogues from similar platforms on week days. At last, 'weary of teaching 'others to disdain the com- mandment against coveting a neighbor's servants, he abandoned the pulpit, and regaled himself with a breaeh'~f the commaudmeAt against coveting a neigh- bor's wife. A -member of his congregation had a very pretty wife. Her beauty was to blame in the affair. Besides, a~sweet sin that nestles in our own bosoms looks less ugly than another man's sin afar off. One may be embraced, while the other, is anathema. '~Then the war broke out, however, he left the arms of his charmer, to take up arms 'for his country. Albert Palmer, arriving at the village, hastened to communicate to Oolonel Wesel the information which he had received from blind Pete. The colonel em- braced" with alacrity an opportunity to capture the I Confederate officer. Fitzhugh'~ oavah'y had been en- terprising and troublesome~ They had c~ut off several parties ~of Wesel's men, besides hara~sii1g him with alarms in his camp. Aided and stimulated by the people, ~who were exasperated by oppression, they had made it necessary of late for the Federals to restrictt the range of their operations within narrow limits~ The capture of the Confederate colonel, therefore, was very lesirable. It would gratify, also, for Albert ralmei a private pique; and, perhaps, open the way for the renewal of a matrimonial project, which, for certain reasons, he desired to revive. Love had failed, but arms might prevail. The possession of the heiress of Roebuck would be convenient in any event of the ~var,. and he still distrusted the success of the Federal. Caplin Dakin was aroused from slumber, and in- trusted with the duty of capturing Colonel Fitzhugh, and he was directed also to arrest Colonel Fairfax, and carry him before the tribunal of the Federal com- mander, upon a charge of harboring the rebel o~cer. lie was )t~ take with him but a small party,- because success might depend on secrecy as well as pi'ompti- tude of action. The ready captain soon had his men in the saddle. In moving about, he stumbled over Juba, who was asleep on the porch of the Swan tavern. As it was no longer necessary for- him' to take to the bush for the enjoyment of. leisure, he~ lounged about the village, day and night, waiting for his slice of land. It occurred to ihe captain that this* fellow might be useful as a guide about the grounds of Roebuck, and waking hini with a kick, he ~orde~d him to mount a ~hor~e;' and companyy the party. Albert Palmer also went along~ When they were 284 235 page: 236-237[View Page 236-237] 286 RGEBUOj~, within a mile of the mansion of Roebuck, Captain ])akin informed Juba of his destination and. design, requiring the involuntary guide to lead a squad to the rear of the house, and to point out every path,. gate and outlet by which Fitzhugh might escape. To quicken his intelligence, he was tcdd that, if the rebel officer wa~ not captured, he should Jx~ hung. Arriving near the mansion, (~aptaiz~ t)akin quietly posted his men. so as to shut up every loop-hole of retreat, and then rode up to the front of the hous~e. Awaking the "inmates' bybeating on a door, he called for Colonel Fairfax~- That geutfezuan soon appeared at an upper window, and inp4red who was there. "captain Dakin desires to see Colonel Fitzhugh." "He is not here," "I kiiow better. I have direct information. You. can't deceive me." "There is no attempt to deceive you, I assure you he is not in, the house." "You want to parley while he escapes. U under-. stand your game. It won't do. Your house is sur- rounded with my troops." "Captain Dakin, upon my honor he is not here." "You lie, you - gild rebel. Send Fitzhugh to me, or I will set fire to your house in five minutes. It ought to havie been burnt long ago." "It i~ impossible for me to send a man who is not near me." "Then the house shall burn." Surely,~ you are not in. earnest ~ ~" You will see." ~Captain Dakin called two of his men, and ord~*red thenito bring fire from a~ negro cabin, and apply it to the house in front and rear. Colonel Fairfax reinon.~. 286 4% Oli~P IT C IC. 2~VT strated, and invited him to search the house~ The captain replied that he was nOt to be taken in by that trick~ He, was then requested to give the ladies time to put on their clothes,' and leave the house before 'it was area. He answ'~red; 'with an oath, that they and Colonel Fairfax should remain in the hous~, and be burnt with it, unless he delivered u~ Colonel Fitz~ hugh~ "Give him up," he added; "or his sweet- heart shall answer %~or it." This brutal threat' was heard' by Julia, wbo stood at a Window of her chain-. bet listening to the dialogue. Mrs~ Fairfax stood near her husband. lie requested her to go to J~ulia's room, and directed that they should both pi~epare to fly' from the house~. He then went 'for a gun 'which he kept concealed, because' the inhabitants were gene- rally disarmed by the Federals. Returning to the window, he sa~v~ the two soldiers"'appi~oaehing with fire. lie called out to Captaiti Dakin, and said--.." if yZ~u attempt to burn the house with my fainil~Kln it, I will certainlyy shoot the' man who applies the torch," The captain ordered the men to ftre the 'house. One of them, coining to the front, applied the' fire, and stooped down to kindle it. Colonel Fairfax dis- charged a load of buckshot from one barrel of the gun, and 'one or two shots' entered' the soldier's leg. He ran' away, making a great outcry of pain. 'The colonel passe(I over to a back window,, and saw the other soldier putting fire to the house.' lie discharged' the other barrel,~ and the man theit' ran, alarmed, but not hurt. Colonel Fairfax re-.l6aded his gun, and re- sumed his place at the front 'In the' meantime, a negro man, who slept in the house, was awakened by. the report of flre-.arm~, and ran to the assistance of his master. He came to the window just as some of' the' page: 238-239[View Page 238-239] 1~onnt1oTC. soldiers fired a volley at it~ and he was slightly wounded His master, -having no weapon for him, sent him to4he as~lst~uce of the ladies, with; a request that they would go down stairs, where he would ~re- sently join them, and endeavor to escape. The -man found them dressed; hut Mrs. Fairfax, overcome with alarm, had sun1~upou the floor, and Julia kn&lt beside her, urging he to fly. When the servant came, she left her mother with him~and going-to her father, in- si~ted that he should convey Mrs. Fairfax from the house, while she would remain at the window, and engagethe attention of the soldiers. He directed her to return, and, with the assistance of the servant, carry her mother down stairs, saying that he would detain the soldiers at the front, until the ladies were ready to pass out from a back door, which he desig.. nated, and then be would follow. In obedience to his directions, they descended to the door. While this was taking place within, Captain Dakin found means to fire the house, and very- s6en the flames began to ascend on every side. The colonel, without further delay, followed the ladies; and found them waiting for him at the door. Taking his wife, almost inanimate, in his arms, he went out, followed, by Julia and the servant. They walked rapidly away from the honse, and for a short distance were concealed ~by shrubbery. But they were soon discovered and were pursued with cries of "here they go-~-slioot them-Adll the - secesh." Several pist~l~~ -were five~I at them. - A ball took effect in the colonel's thigh and he fell to the ground. His wife became quite insensible. Julia. stood a moment bewildered4 She saw some of the soldiers seize her father and other~ her mother, dragging them away. ~hO.EBUCIC. She felt the grasp of two men who drew her along, and before she could recover from the stupefactinn of ter- -. ror, they placed her on a horse before the rider, lie held. her fh'mly and~ dashed o$i~' at a rapid pace, which g3oon~ recalled her faculties. - ~rhe struggled to fh~e her- self; but the h6rseman, tightening his gvas~ -aboi~t her waist, said.--"be Inot ~al~r~ed, Miss Fairfaz; you are safe ; -1 will carry you away from those ruffians." She recognized the voice of Albert Palmer.. "My father," she cried, "my mother-I mu~t not leave them. 0, Captain Palmer, release ~ne." - "That would be madness, ~Miss FairfAi You would rim into danger and could do no good. I will take you to a place of safety and then look after them." * "I must go back. Release me, sir."~ - * "No, my sweet bird, that is impossible." He struck his spurs intohis horse, and in spite of her entreaties; remonstr~ances and struggles, he bore her away through the darkness. - While the fire Was raging, Captain Dakin-was mow. ing about in. great excitement, cursing and ~iviuig orders to secure the rebels and keep strict watch for Fitzhugh. He was expected every moment to issue from'vhehurning building. When the house was ~o far consumed that Captain Dakin *a~ aure the rebel officer could not be in it, he called for the negro who had acted as guide, - sweating that he had played false. Poor Juba was found and brought before him. "Jziano - him," was~ the peremptory otder In vain the negro protested his innocence and implored mercy. His cries, his groans, his tears- wete disregarded. While the flames yet raged, he- swung ftom a tree before the hou*-~8 corpse. Spark& fell oi~ the cabin f page: 240-241[View Page 240-241] 240 ROEBUCK. of 'old Uncle Valentine, and it was soon in a blaze. He was carried from it by some of the negroes; dread- f~illy burned, and. in a few minutes he died.' It is believed that Joe perished in the burning mansion. He rat~ towards it when he saw it in flames, and hear- * ing that his master was inside, he rushed in to rescue him. He was seen running to and fro in the upper part of the house when the fire was licking the high.. est windows. He was never seen' afterwards. Mrs. Fairfax, after being dragged a short distance by the soldiers, was left by them lying upon the mound, her &ge' and sex, perhaps, obtaining for her the compassion of neglect. Some of her servants ear- ned her to anegro cabin, where the faithful creatures ministered to her with assiduous care until morning, when she wfis conveyed t& the house of a friend in the neigh 'hood. Colonel Fairfax, after being drawn along ~he earth in great agony from the spot where he ~va~ wounded to a pl~aee more remote from the flames, was guarded as if he had been able to fight or ily. He lay in pain and in view ~f his burning home; but more intolerable than his* w~und was his anxiety for the safety of hi~ wife and daughter. He was kept in ignoranee of their fate, and when the rising sun s~ione upon the smoking ruins of his mansion, he was thrown into a cart and ~carried to the village. He was there placed in~a house which was used as a hospital. ,The surgeon in charge treated him vith professional skill and with extreme kindness. He left nothing undone that was within his pe~1~r for the relief and comfort of the wounded and bereaved gentleman. During the day a considerable number of Federal officers called upon him to express their sympathy and respect.. Of these~ some had e~ijoyed his ho~pi- ROEBUCK. 241 tality, and esteemed him from personal acquaintance. To others he was a stranger, but they knew his char- acter and acted in the spirit of' generous courtesy which becomes the profession of arms When Colonel Wesel heard his subordinate's re- port of t~he proceedings or operations of the night, he 'commended the captain's conduct, and was enraged at the audacious attack made by Colonel Fairfax on the Federal troops. He looked upon it as the cap-sheaf~ of crime in the county. He denounced Colonel Fair- fax not only as a "secesh," a rebel and an aristocrat, but as a "bushwhacker ".-.-an epithet commonly applied to those persons, who, not being in the mu.. tary service, waylaid enemies and shot them from bushes, trees, rock~, houses or other places of conceal.. ment. The insolent offences of the secesh citizens,. he declared, had been increasing of late. Women had worn Confederate colors in their garments and had declined the acquaintance of Federals. Men had re fused to remain at home and till the ground Negroes ' had been chastised. Rebel soldiers had been 'harbored by their families and others. Loyal citizens had been insulted. The venerable clergyman of the village had refused to pray fbr the President of the-United States These, and other enormities, were recited in an order issued by Colonel Wesel, and it was added that law-. less barbarity had at last culminated in an attempt made by a bad old man to assassinate a Federal officer and several men, at midnight, by clandestinely shooting at them from the concealment of darkness and of a private dwelling. The colonel announced his deter- mination to suppress all these diabolical practices, and especially that of bushwhacking.. He threatened that other dweffings shouldbe destroyed, and that, if 1~ L 4 A 240 page: 242-243[View Page 242-243] 24~ ROEBUCK. such offences were repeated, the county should be made a barren waste. He proceeded to make nn exanirde of the church and the pastor. He appropriated the ancient edifice to the uses of a stable for the cavalry. He caused the Reverend Mr. Ambler to be arrested and brought before him. After interrogating and bullying the old gentleman, and lecturing him on theology, he condemned the meek and venerable minister to work upon the street of the village daily, during the plea~ sure of the colonel. The sentenCe was instantly car- iied into execution, and, beside a negro, the village pastor, guarded 'like a felon, bowed his white head over a ~~ade. He bore his cross with Christian resignatiOn, but he called to mind the words of the 'Preacher-" If thou seest the oppression of the poor and violent per've~ting of judgment and justice in a province, marvel not at the matter: for He that is higher than the highest regardeth; and there be higher than they." ROEBUCK. 243 CHAPTER XXIL VENG~ANC1~. Th the afternoon of the ~ame day, Captain Dakin was. sent out upQu an~ errand of devastation. At Roebuck he burned barns, fences, stacks and e\rery~. thing else that was valuable and combustible, except a few cabins inhabited by negroes-a 1~aithfiil remnant of the blithe black population that once enjoyed the wealth of that estate. .iIe then led his' troopers to Willowbank, and proceeded to execute vengeance upon Hugh Fitzhugh and his mother, by destroying their ancient mansion.' He sent one of the servants to notify his mistress that he was about to burn the house, and that she would be allowed ten .minutes to remove her indispensable clothing. She was confined to bed by sickness. She sent her faithful servant, Belle, to inform the Federal officer of her condition, and to request him not to disturb~her at that time. He replied~ that he was up. to the tricks of the "she- rebels ;" that her illness was feigned, to save her. house, but that it should not avail. He ordered Belle to tell the old woman up stairs that the house. would be fired in precisely ten minutes by the watch. When the lady was informed of this savage threat, and. was convince by Belle's representations that the - . captain intended to ~xecute it, her eyes flashed and her bosom swelled with indignant ~Iefiance. The energy of her spirit overcame the languor of disease. "Go," said she to Belle, "tell the brutal wretch that page: 244-245[View Page 244-245] 244 1lO]~13UCl~. ROEBUCK. 245 I will remain here. Let him burn the house and me too." Belle descended again and informed~ the cap~ tam that her mistress could not be removed without risk of her life, and would .no% consent to leave the house. She implored him not to burn the house with her mistress in it. He repeated his former threat, with many oaths. When the servant returned to the chamber she found that Mrs. 'Fit~hugh had composed herself in bed with rigid resolution, and was evi- dently preparing her mind for the death which she expected. She said to her servani.-" Stay here until they fire the house; then save yourself. I hope this sacrifice will arouse the indignation of men and the justice of Heaven to arrest the atrocious system of warfare that is desolating my country.' Tell my dear Hugh that I die blessing him. God save Virginia. Now farewell, my good girl. I must prepare for death." Belle uttered loud lamentations, and, on her knees, entreated her mistress to leave thehouse. She even attempted to carry her away forcibly, but the authority and resistance of the energetic old lady prevented her. When the fire began to rise she ran to and fro wildly, and then, after a final effort to remove Mrs. Fitzhugh with affectionate violence, she fled from the flames. When Captain Dakin saw her run out, leaving her mistress in the burning building, he began t@ think that the old lady really could iiot be removed by her servant, and that she would be consumed by the fire. Shocked at that probable event, he ordered some of his men to enter the house and carry her out. They' rushed into her chamber,, caught her up, without re- garding her remonstrances, and bore her into the yard only a moment before it would have been too late to descend the stairs. They laid her on the grass, and there she witnessed the final destruction of her house. When the flames had sunk into. sfltoulder- ing ashes she inquired for the officer' in~ command. Captain Dakin presented himself to her. "Captain," she said, l&ol~ing iat him sternly, "you haye destroyed my home, thrusting me from it when I am too feeble to rise; but my misfortunes are as nothing ~in flhe general calamity. I bear them pa- tiently, as sacrifices for my country. It is not of them I wish to speak to you. But I have heard of the outrages you have perpetratedupon others-upon rich and poor~-~upon men, women and children. Now, while you look on the last embei~s~you have made, your latest victim, a feeble old Woman, Warns yoiito desist from your ferocious warfare on the innocent and defenceless. As sure as there is a God who pities the' wid~w and the fatherless, you and your people will rue these crimes. Divine justice will not 'always sleep "-.--- "Divine justice !" interrupted the reverend cap: tam, with an oath and a satirical Laugh, "that's played out 'long since at the North. No more of that sort of talk, old woman."* "~IIave you dethroned God ?" "Take this woman away," he said t9 some of her servants who had assembled around her. They car- ried her away tenderly. 'Some of them had lately been corrupted by' evil as~oeiation, but the sight of their old mistress in distress moved their passionate hearts to eager demonstrations of affection. She thanked them, and when she was refreshed with rest 'she called some of her women around her and thus addressed them; page: 246-247[View Page 246-247] 24(3 ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. 24'7 "I thank you, my poor girls, for your service. I am grateful to all my servants. I do not reproach those who have left me. I pity you all. You do not foresee the evils that are coming upon your race. I cart no longer protect you. Our house, that gave you and me shelter, is destroyed. Our family is broken up. We shall be no more toFgether. But I shall uever forget the love and fidelity of my servants diir- ing so many years. God grant that you may never regret our separation. I cannot give you counsel ~hereafter, and let me tell you, once for all, that if you would be happy you must be humble, industrious and good. Bless you, my girls; may you be happy !" After Captain Dakin had fulfilled his mission of destruction at Willowbank, he led his troopers away to other work of a similar kind: Passing near the cabin of Marlin, the preaching cooper, he remembered a report that Eliza Marlin had committed the offence of carrying medicines to the rebels. He could not ~. recollect the particulars of the accusation, but it arose out of the 'circumstance~ that, when her father had an attack of fever, she visited him in camp, and carried some drugs~ for the use of him and others. Halting before the. cabin, he called Eliza and charged her with the offenTee. She admitted it, stating all the circum- stances. He declared that she should be punished on the spot. By his command some of the, men seized her, and tying her thumbs with cords, drew them up until her 'arms were stretched above her head and she stood upon her toes, and then they attached the cords to a joist. Others tied her mother to a chain, so that she could not release her daughter. Thus the two women were left. Eliza had struggled while they were binding her, until she found resistance use- less, and then, disdaining to beg for mercy, she sub- mitted in silence. When her face reddened and her eyes flashed with indignation, she seemed beautiful to the rude and pitiless troopers. Her defenceless situ.. ation and the degradation to which she had been sub- jected by their captain encouraged them to entertain a licentious and outrageous design. tigainst her. On the mardi, when it had become dark, four oi~ .five of them separated themselves from the command and returned to the cabin. ~Releasing Eliza, they began to insult her whh the rough familiarity of affected fondness, ~rnd then ensued a scene of violence which cannot be described. When the men were departing they released Mrs. Marlin, and with mock compassion bade hertake good care of her pretty daughter. That wretched girl was' left nearly dead, and praying for death as a refuge from shame. Her mother's brain reeled, and she was almost incapable of rendering any assistance to tile form that writhed upon the floor. "0, mother, mother," was the despairing cry of the girl in he~ deadly anguish. "0, God, 0, God !". was the ory of the mother. Throwing herself beside her daughter, and embracing h~r with frenzied passion, she sobbed and wept until the motionless stillness of the girl startled her with a new fear.. "0 God, my daughter is dead!" she exclaimed. The dim light of a poor candle could scarcely reveal her low breathing, her eyes were half-closed, and she appeared to her dis- tracted mother the image of death. Still clinging to hope, Mrs. Marlin hastened to apply the simple restor- atives at hand, and gradually recalled so much anima- tion that her daughter could faintly converses In that condition she lingered some h9llrs of the iii~ht. page: 248-249[View Page 248-249] 248 ROEBUCK. ROflilucit. 249 Having laid her on a bed, her mother sat besfde her. With her strong will she drove back the madness which. she felt to be creeping over her brain, in order that she might ward off death, which, ~he feared, was stealing into the heart of her daughter. Alone, through the dark and dreary watche&'~of a terrible night, she sustained that awful conflict. The dying girl sometimes, in delirium, uttered words that cleft the soul of the lonely watcher at her bedside. Some~. times, in rational moments, she whispered such despair, such pity for her mother, such affection for her absent father and brother, that the miserable mother wavered between madness and death. Atiength Eliza started up, and staring with all the dreadful feelings of that. iiight concentrated in her eyes, she cried, "~ is over," and fell back up6n her pillow. Then a more placid expression settled upon her~face, and she died. The mother at first refused to believe that all was over. She fancied that a light breath still came from those lifeless lips. She laid her hand over the pulse.. less heart and stood fondly waiting to feel the motion Qf life. While thus she stood a change came over her own features. Still feeling in vain for the pulsation of her daughter's heart~ her pallid features became rigid and then relaxed to an unmeaning simper. "I can't find it-.-.I can't find it "-she repeated, moving herhands about over the body of her child. Presently abe walked to.the door'-.then out upon the road, and she stood there a f~w minutes in silence. Suddenly she burst into, a loud laugh, and cried-." I know where it is. Abraham's got it. I'll go for Abraham." She walked rapidly away through the darkness. By chance, or from some recollection that her husband had passed that way the night before, she followed his regiment. She kept on its track during the remain- der of the night, in the morning and throughout the day. On she went, without food or drink or rest. Now and then she stopped and looked bewildered, as if she had forgotten her ewand. Then ~he would start, saying, "I'll go fort Ab~haham~-.he~s get it." Thus onward she strode, drawn ~by the insane fanny that hei husband could restore that mysterious spring of life, which had ceased t&vibrate in the bosom of her daughter, though she had lost all rational re~olleetio~i of that which she had lost and for which she searched. " Abraham's got it.-rll go for Abraham ;" this frag. ment of thought survived the wreck of her intellect, and was drifting her towards her husband. At evening she came upon the regiment where it had halted. Moving about among the men, she took no notice of any one until she saw her husband. Run- fling to him, she seized his hand and 'attempted to lead him along, while she said, "Come, Abraham-I knowed you had it. Bring it h&me. Eliza's waiting for it. She is lying on the bed. She looks so pretty." She laughed aloud, and then began to talk rapidly and incoherently, making no allusion to her daughter or to her husbands return home. Having fulfilled the purpose which had kept her wandering mind partially fixed during the day, she lost all control of her wild imagination. In vain her distressed husband endeav- ored to learn from her the object of her journey and the rational explanation of the words with which she had greeted him. When her son, hearing of her arrival, went to meet her, she fell upon his neck, ex- claiming, "my brave boy." Then her talk rambled again into unintelligible mazes. Her husband and ~on were afflicted beyond expression. They feared, 11* page: 250-251[View Page 250-251] 250 ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. 251 too, that some dreadful event must have occurred to shatter her intellect, and bo*th her first a11us~on to EIiz~, and the absence of the daughter from the mother in her present condition, suggested the most terrible apprehensions for the beloved girl. When Colonel Fitzhugh became acquainted with these circumstances he expressed the deepest sorrow for the afflictions of this poor family, and considered what might be done for their relief. Among other measures which he suggested ar adopted, he relieved both Abraham and Mark from military duty, advising the husband to take charge of his wife, and the son to go home immediately and look after the safety of his sister. They followed his advice, and Mark was soon riding rapidly. towards the cabin in which Ehiza had been left by her mother. N CHAPTER XXIIL BAXTER So~ix time after nightfall, while Captain DaI~in was absent from the village, upon his foray against Wit. lowbank, and other defenceless dwellings of women and children, Colonel Wesel was seated in a great ann-chair, in a room of the Swan ~ His rotund figure swelled with importance, his lace was red, and his eyes were moist with the dew distilled by drink. Altogether, he 1ooi~ed mello)v, though duly formi- dable, as he said pompously-~-" bring in the prisoner." The order ~as obeyed, and a young man, followed by. a guard, swaggered into the room, and, without wait- ing for an invitation, took a seat. He looked first at Colonel Wesel, and then at Albert Palmer, who was sitting at the colonel's right hand, as a counsellor. He gazed at them both with an insolent stare, and then, leaning back in his chair, threw his feet upon a table. He was clad in the uniform of a private of Confederate cavalry. He was not known to the cob onel, but Palmer~ at once recognized his old antagonist, Baxter. That eccentric commissary resigned his commission at the time of his duel with Palmer, and returning home, he remained there in inglorious ease, until the next spring, when the law of conscription was enacted by the Confederate Congress. Being then obliged to.enter the service, he. be4~ame a private in the company formerly commanded by Hugh Fitz~. hugh. When the regiment passed near Roebuck, page: 252-253[View Page 252-253] 252 ROEBUCK. ROEBtTCIC. 253 just before the burning of that mansion, Baxter took the liberty of withdrawing from the ranks and visit~ ing the village, He intended to spend an hour there, and return to the regiment. But he fell in with a boon companion and good liquor. His habitual weakness detained him several hours, and, at last, he lay down to sleep himself sober. He slept until eve-~ ning, and then, in attempting to pass out of the vil~ lage, he was captured. When he found himself in the presence of Wesel and Palmer, his first thought' \ was that the one was a fool, and the other a coward. lie conceived the idea of escaping from durance by some stratagem, and with' that view, he determined to protract the proceedings, which would keep him about the tavern, and to tiy the effect of bullying his judges. He gave free rein to his insolence, affecting to be drunk, although he was as sober as a man ought ever to be, according to his theory. "So," said Cokmel Wesel, sternly, "you be'st our prisoner.'; "I suspected as much," answered Baxter. "And moreover, besides, you be'st a spy." "That's a lie." "Mein Gott That is impudence." "You are a fool, and you speak broken Dutch." "Vat you say? You impudent slavery institution. Donner! That institution is impudent. Vat you say? Eh~h-h ?" " Colonel, you are right in objecting to the insti~ tuition, but you do not urge the right objection." "Vat is das, you secesh puppy~" "The only valid objection to our peculiar iustitu~ tion is that the nio' sing at their work, and sing slow tunes. They work to h~rmns, and dance to jigs. It-won't pay." "Veil, I viii hang you. You bees ~ spy. Now let us go on wid the examination. I viii hang you, but I viii examine you first. You shall not say, when you are dead, that I does not the fair thing." "I tluiink we might pass over the examination, since the sentence has been already pronounced. That would save time." "No; I viii examine you, to hang you according to law." "Then I will lie down on this bench, and take a nap, while you are engaged in the examination. When you are ready to hang me, please wake me up. I want to see it done." "You dinks I von't hang you; but I vii, by -." "No, you won't." "What for I won't hang you? Eh-h..h ~" "Don't put your face so near me, when you speak to me. Your breath smells of onions and Sweitzer cheese." "I viii ,stop your breath vid a rope, hundefut, Johnny Reb." "Now, don't. I prefer to be shot. ~Jan't you spare me a bullet? A bullet is the decent dose for a gentleman. There is Palmer-4ie can tell you so: By the way, did he ever tell you about the exchange of bullets between him and me when he was in the rebel service?" "You slander mine friend. He is not a rebel nor never vas not." "Not rebel enough to~ hurt him. He deserted the first chance he got." "Don't mind what a drunken fellow says," inter. posed Palmer. 0 page: 254-255[View Page 254-255] 254 ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. . 255 "But, colonel, I must tell you about our duel. It is a capital story. This was the way of it." "He will talk here all night, if you 16t him~," again interrupted Palmer, uneas~iIy, ~' you had better send him to the guard-house." "But, colonel, it is a good story. Send for a bottle, and I will tell you all about it while we drink." "You saucy sesesh! You shall not drink my liquor, nor. tell me no story. Let us go on vid the examination. "Now, colonel, I know you are dry. So am I. You won't refuse a poor devil a drink,, when he is going to be hung." "Das is true. Das is fiilr. Palmer, please get the bottle." "That, now, is handsome for a Dutchman," said Baxter, taking up the bottle, which Palmer produced from a closet; "now, I will tell the story.?' "Vou are an infamous liar," exclaimed Palmer, livid, with rage. N "You shall be a toddy," said Baxter, as he hurled the bottJe at Palmer's head; "whiskey to milk-and-. water ;" but, the bottle missed the head, and was shattered against the wall; "a dead loss," added' Baxter. Wesel stormed furiously, and threatened the pris- oner with a thousand deaths,*in German and English. Baxter sa~t quiet, until the storm had some what sub-. sided, and he their said, "Colonel, as we have nothing to drink, we had better resume the examination." "VeIl, I vill hang you." "You dare not." "Vot for I dares not ?" "Because Colonel Fitzhugh will hang you before to-morrow-night, if you do." "Fitz~tue! Where is he? I vas looking for that rebel. I burnt him up in that.-'-.o14 rebel roost." "He is with his regiment, and- near' enough to you to hang you to-morrow." "Vas heinthis Village vid you yen you didn't get out? Tell me truth, or I vill hang you again, two, three times." "He may be in the village n&w." "Ambuscade, eh? That - rebel cavalry is every-. where. I can't sleep. I can't eat mine dinner I can't take mine little dram-.-.-you broke mine bottle, you butternut-.--.till some fellow comes running in to tell the rebel cavalry is upon us. It is the black-horse and the white-horse, it is Ashby's and Stuart's, and it is Fitzstue's all the timre~ Where fs he?. Send out some of them cowardly cavalry of mine. They runs back yen they sees a bush. Send the prisoner .to the' guard house." "I won't go to the guard-house." "VTou wc5n't. Why won't you, then? Eh-.h-h !" "Because I am a gentleman. I'll give you my parole." "You are a i'ebel.-that's vc4 you bees." "A rebel owing allegiance, I suppose, to Dutchmen hired to conquer American States 1" "1 bin colonel of a loyal regiment. I bin gentle-.' man." "A Dutch colonel Qf a Yankee regiment! 'What a conjunction! Krout and clam-.chowder!, Hessian and Yankee! Hush-.-.-listeu..--thereis Fitzhugh's cavalry now !" A clatter of hoofs was heard on the street. Colonel~ page: 256-257[View Page 256-257] 2~6 ILOEBUCIC.. ROE BUCK. 257 Wesel started up and ran to the door, followed by all the others who were in the room. He called to arms. He peered into the dark to ascertain the cause of the alarm. Captain Dakin with his troops rode up. In the confusion and darkness Baxter had slipped away. By his intimate knowledge of all places about the vil~- lage he~wa8 able in a few~ minutes to reach a place of concealment, where he remained until a late hour of the night favored his escape. After passing out of the village, and walking a mile or two, he heard the rattling of a cart on the road. Stopping behind a tree until it. came up, he found it was blind Pete's. That knave still continued his noc~ turnal rambles, and ~ractised'his vilainies now with.. out even the trouble of giving bail. Baxter hailed him, and taking i~ seat in the cart beside him, told him to drive on. Asthey rode aloud, he drew from Pete a variety of information about the Federal force and other matters, sometimes by wheedling and some~ times by brow..beating. It was not difficult to do, for Pete parted readily with whatever knowledge he pos. sessed. He would yield it up at any time to bribes or threats, and often threw it away recklessly, from a propensity to gossip. From him Baxter derived some information respecting Colonel Fairfax and his family, which, with additions not known to the blind gossip, it is proper to convey to the reader. When Pete, on the night before,' left Mr. Palmer's, he went with his cart towards ~Roebnck, by order of Albert. That young gentlsrnan could not have anti- cipated the fire, but he appears to have conceived the capture of Fitzhugh and the arrest of Colonel Fairfax, and may have thought that the exeCution of such a plan of violence would' offer an opportunity for using Pete's cart in some such enterprise as he afterwards effected. On his 'way thither the carter met Palmer, carrying Miss Fairfax on his horse. With Pete's assistance he forced her into the cart and took a seat beside her. He then directed Pete to arive to his father's. The young lady frequently iinplore4 Palmer with pathetic entreaty to release her or to carry her to her parents. Sometimes, as the cart moved on, she tried toget upon her knees before him. She appealed to his rnan~ood, to his pity. Sometimes, after she found him. unrelenting, she gave way to helpless and hopeless indignation, more pitiable than her tears. He spoke but little. At first he affected to soothe her with professions of regard and promises of safety.4 Then, becoming impatient,~ he rebuked her sternly and relapsed into silence. When they arrived at his father's house she was taken to the front door, which was opened by Mr. Palmer, in answer to Pete's signal, and then' the blind agent was dismissed. T!le uext morning the elder Palmer called on Col.. onel Wesel at the village# He and his son' were con.. fidential advisers of that officer in all affairs of th6 county~ lie was trusted as the head of the "loyal"' element in the county, as he had a right to be-being the head of his own family. After congratulating Colonel Wesel upon the I vigor and success of his administration, especially as shown in the last night's operations, he proceeded to dilate upon the~ importance of the capture which had 'l4on made in the person of Colonel Fairfax. Beside~ denouncing the offences specially charged against ~iim, such as harboring a rebel officer and bushwha~king, he represented that the colonel was the main st~y of the secession interest in the county. He suggesI~ed that the removal of one 256 257 page: 258-259[View Page 258-259] 258 ROEBUCK; so influential from the State would tend to quell the spirit of resistance, and produce quiet and submission. He suspected that if such a prisoner remained at the village desperate efforts would be made to rescue him, and Colonel Wesel might be attacked by an over.. powering force. He advised that the distinguished rebel should be sent to Washington, with a suitable representation of his offences and of his importance, in order that he might be detained there as a prisoner of State. Colonel Wesel, elated with his good for- tune, and apprehensive of a rescue, embraced the advice. ~with alacrity. That very evening Colonel Fairfax was started to Washington. He had to make the first stage of the journey in an open wagon and over rough roads. He suffered intolerable pain. But he was hurried off without mercy, escorted by a strong guard. He requested permission to see his wife and d~inighter before starting, but it was refused. He was not in- formed of his destination, and that was kept a secret from others, lest a knowledge of the route to be pur- sued should facilitate a rescue. He' was not even permitted to know what had become of his wife and daughter. Mrs. Fairfax remained at the house to which she had been carried, as already mentioned, on the morn- ing after the fire at Roebuck. Mrs. Fitzhugh was carried to the. same place, after the destruction of her house. To that high-spirited lady the exertion re- quired by her misfortune proved an antidote to melan- choly. As she had suffered only in the loss of property, and not, like Mrs Fairfax, in. the loss of those who were dearest to her, she became more cheerful than ~he had usually beezr during the war. She devoted herself to the consolation of her more afflicted friend. ROEBUCK. 259 Mrs. Fairfax, of a gentle, tender, delicate nature, accustomed to be cherished by her husband and daughter, and hitherto sheltered by fortune from the storms of life, pined under her calamities. The shocks which she endured in that dreadful night, when her house was burned, and her husband and ~Iaughter were snatched from her to be carried, she knew not whither, almost bereft her of existence. She had not the stubborn qualities ~hioh might have enabled her to rally her strength and spirits.~ No consAation could lift her from despondency. Sorrowwithered her ~ strength and her health vanished, Her form wasted away. She lay night and day, scarcely uttering, a word 'but the names of her husband and., daughter. J1ife waned iu her until it became the shadow of dea1~h. 4 page: 260-261[View Page 260-261] 260 ROEBUCK. ROEBUCK. 261 CHAPTER XXIV. ALI3EIIT rAtMEE' S LOVE. Wiu~ Mr. Palmer, on the night of the fire at Roe. buck; had opened his door, he was informed by his son that Miss Fairfax was there, desiring refuge and repose, in c~,nsequence of the destruction of her father's house. "No, no," she cried, '~ I am brought here against my will, and I implore you to let me go home." But Albert Palmer thrust her in, and drew her to the parlor, where he placed her on a sofa. ~JIe then requested his father to get a light and to sum.. mon his mother to the care of their guest. Wheu Mr. Palmer returned, with ~his wife and a light, Julia sat on the sofa, with her hands clasped on her lap and her head drooping. She wore nC bonnet, and her brown hair, dishevelled, flowed down over her shoulders and bosom. She was pah~ as death. Her lips were slightly parted. She breathed quickly. Her breast heaved with agitation. Her dress, hastily put on while she was attending ~o her alarmed mother, was in disorder. Her feet were bare. Even Albert Palmer was startled when he beheld that figure of beatitiKul desolation. Ills parents stood in mute won~ der. Julia, lifting her eyes, discovered that one of' her own 'sex had entered the room, am] springing from the sofa, threw herself at the feet of Mrs. Palmer, clasping her knees and turning up her face, with tears raining from her eyes, while she appealed in broken accents to a woman's compassion for a woman. "0, save me," she cried; "let me go to my father and mother. I have been cruelly toni from them. Their' house is destroyed. i~ty father is wounded. My mother is in distress. They may be dying. I know not what is to become Qf them this drcadf~il night. Let me go to them. You have a woman's heart. 0, have pity ~n' a broken-hearted girl. Release me, 0, release me." "Rise, Miss Fairfax," said Albert Palmer, taking her by the hand; "you know not what you say. You are distracted with grief. Mother) there has been a ternil~le scene to-night. Miss Fairfax needs repose. We iiiust, for her own good, do some gentle violence to her wishes. Please conduct her to a chamber and persuade her to take some rest." "hypocrite and tyrant I" exclaimed Julia, rising to her feet, "you are my enemy-~-my father's foe-a traitor to my country. You are league with invaders and oppressors. To you we owe the calamities of this night. You hold rue a prisoner. You have torn me from my parents. 0, my father! 0, my poor mother t" Again she sunk upon the floor, dissolved in tears, and sobbing as if her heanli would break. In a few moments she rose again and ran towards the door, saying, "1 will go to them." But Albert Palmer intercepted her, ~eized her, and, carrying her to a chamber, told his mother to follow him. When they had entered the room he left the two ladies there, locked the door, and put the ~key in his pocket. lie returned to his father, and. after relating' to him the events of the night, explained to him his plan with reference to Miss airilnc. She was, he said, without a home. He ather was a prisoner, under grave accusations. might be long detained or page: 262-263[View Page 262-263] '262 UOI~B1~CK. sent out of the State. His property might be taken from. him. But if Julia' should become Mrs. Palmer it Would probably be restored, if not to Colonel Faire fax, at least to his daughter, thron~h the influence of her new relative~. The hope 'o:C thus rell~ving her parents and of procuring the liberation of her father through the same influence, he believed, would induce her to accept his hand. The greater the distress and danger of her father might become, the more she would be inclined to accede to measui'es necessary for iii~ relief Perhaps it would be expedient to have Colonel Fairfax sent to Washington, so that the hopes and fears of his daughter; deprived of communication with him, and un~,ertain as to his fate, might render her more pliant. Of course, Mr. Palmer and his son would ultimately procure his teleaser as well as the possession of his property, and his daughter would be provided with a husband and a home. This scheme appeared to the elder Palmer so wise and benevolent, that he cheerfully consented, at his son's request, to keep Miss Fairfax in hi~ house and to visit Colonel Wesel the next day, as we have seen he did. Mrs. Palmer was ignorant of this 'plan when she found herself shut up in a chamber with Miss Fairfax, and she had nothing to guide her conduct but confi- dence in her son and obedience to his wishes. She could not frame a suitable speech, but she put her arms about Julia and gently urged her to a bed, be- seeching her, in a motherly ~yay, to sleep. . The un- happy young lady lay down without resistance, and remained for several hours, not sleeping, but weeping, with her eyes closed 'and her arms folded over her bosom, without speech or motion. She was alone, friendless, hopeless. She was exhausted in mind, and U U r RO1~HtXCK. body, by the fatigues, 1~he sufferings and the terrors ~ of that night.. At length, 'when the day was break- ing, nature yielded to slumber,' and she endured, rather than enjoyed, for an hour, a dreamy, restless sleep. She awoke with a more vivid sense of afflic- tion. In the morning, Mrs. Palmer was released from confinement by her son, who intimated his plan to her, and while his father was calling on Colonel Wesel, sent her with his compliments to Miss Fair- flux, and requested permission to wait upon the!yonng lady in her chamber. She desired hint to excuse her, and even protested against his visit. But he de- dared that it ~wi~s necessary for him to see her, and his message to that effect was immediately followed' by himself. He drew up a chair to sit beside her, but she rose, and remained standing. lie made no nlhi- sion to her movement, but in cool and civil tones pro- ceeded to address her. "Miss Fairfax, misled by appearances, you have placed an erroneous construction upon my conduct. I came to offer~you an explanation." He paused, but receiving no reply, he resumed. "You have thought me unkind to you, but really my motives 'have been more than kind. In. all that I have doueIhave aimed 'at your welfare and happiness. Perhaps the. ardor of my affeotiom for you has impelled me too' far. I could not avert the misfortune which has befallen your family. I could not rescue your parents from the military. 'I saved yourself in the only way that was possible. I brought you to my father's house for shelter. Now, I offer you a hox~ie for life. My heart has long been yours. I now offer you my baud." 9 U page: 264-265[View Page 264-265] I' I I I I ROEBU CR. While he delivered this speech with sedate mar~nor and level voice, Julia stood with' averted face, appa- rently unmoved. 'When. he ceased to speak, she turned her eyes. full upQn him, and still. restraining he~ emotion~ she said, "Mrs, palmer, your motives are known tQ yourself. If you would prove to me that they are kind, set me free" "I have 'proved more-my love. I offer you the strongest proof of love." "Surely, .you would not hold me a captive, and ,tnke advantage of my captivity to press 'a suit which has once been re8pectfhlly declined." "Love, 'my. dear lady; is bliud to. circumstances, and deaf to refusaL Let me believe, that time has rendered you more favorable to my wishes. Let me hope that you will give me a right to protect you in all dangers and difficulties. Until you decide upon my. proposal, I cannot consider any other subject" "If that is a covert threat, I must speak without re- serve, and tell you that 'there is an insurmountable barrier to. your proposal. Let the. snbjeet be dis- missed forever." "I cannot imagine a barrier really insurmountable, Miss Falifax. May I ask what it is ?"' "I-yes-my hand is promised to. another." "Indeed 1" he said, commencing his reply in the measured aeceats which had hitherto mocked his vic- tim, but the avowal of an engagement with 'a rival whom he hated already, .because~ he believed him to be a successful rival, roused his ~ger, and as he went on, he spoke with manifest ~aspe~4ty~ "such engage- iuent~ are n6t usually deemed irrevocable, by young ladies. Times have changed. When I shall convince you that the person to whom you have incautiously pi:omised your hand is unworthy"-. Unworthy, sir! Can a gentleman disparage a rival? Can a man traduce the absent? Can a being with a heavt insult a captive lady by maligning her' affianced? Hugh Fitzhugh is that which you prove yourself not to be-a man an~I a gentleman." "I admire your spirit, Miss Fairfax, but you have not quite fathomed' the question. There are other af- fections and obligations somCtimes to be considered, even before a gii'l's fancy for a lover. Your love and duty to your father"- "My dear, my noble father! What can you, tell me of him 2" "That, in disposing of your hand, you. may do well tq. consider his safety." "I do not understand. What threat lurks in your words and sneer ~" "Be seated, Miss Fairfax. Let us discuss this mat- ter rationally. You will not sit? Well, as you please. ~You are aware that he is wounded, and a prisoner." "0, Heavenly Father, protect him." "He will be sent to Washington." "To Washington ?" "And detained there as a prisoner of state." "A prisoner of state! Then he is lost. May H~ven 'have 'mercy on him, for man will, have none." can be saved." "How? Tell me how. I will bless you, as our good angel." '"It depends upon yourself alone." "Thank God! Then lie will be saved. Bid me toil, su~er, die to save him, and he shall be. saved." "There is rio need of 'toil, or su~'erin~, or death. 12 264 ROEBUCK. '265 page: 266-267[View Page 266-267] 266 ROEBUCK. Through the influence of my father and myself, I doubt not, he can be released. it; in bestowing your hand "-.. 4 "OThorror."' "You give me a right to solicit a favor to yo~it' family as a favor to myself; the loyalty of my farnily~ and my services may be accounted as an atonement for the guilt of your father, and we may procure his release. I' have received some tokens of considera- tion in high quarters. My father is trusted by the authorities. But it would b~ useless, it n~ht ke deemed offensive if we were to intercede, for an ob- noxious person having no claims upon us. Family ties would entitle us to ask that he be restored to us. It depends upon yourself alone to release your father from captivity." While he was speaking, Julia's head sunk down upon her breast, and tears streamed from her eyes. At last she fell upon her knees before him, and un- plored him to be merciful. "You say you have power to save him. 0, save my father, and spre his wretched child. Do not.- do not annex a cruel condition to an act of mercy. Respect my truth. 'Spare my grief. 0, save my father." "Rise, Miss Fairfax. This abasement is unneces- sary: Your father's safety rests with yourself.. Yoc~ understand the condition." "T~en you are inexorable ?" "I am. "0, my father! Wpuld that his wisdom' could now direct me. Will you not let me consult him 1" "No." a prisoner-sent a way to perish in a I ROEBUCK. 267 cell. If my death could save him! If anything but falsehood and ~ Sir, I am alone. You will not let me consult my father. I must recall, then, the lessons he has taught me. I will be true, and leave the consequences to Heaven. I cannot violate my engagement without ~perfidy. I cannot become your wife without falsehood. I will preserve my truth." "Then you reject, me again, Miss ?" "I can give no other answer." "Reflection may change your mind. Good morn- ing, Miss Fairfax." lie left the room. Julia threw herself upon the bed and gaveway~ to a conflict of emotions. Some- times she reproached herself; and was ready to recall Palmer and submit to his terms, rather than leave her father in captivity and in danger of a more terrible fate. But hi~ image rising before her mind, rebuked her. meditated falsehood. She thought of him .as, while she sat upon his knee, he had often taught her the lessons of truth and fortitude' and faith. His sim- ple dignity and loving authority, again impressed her heart as they had impressed 'ft in. her, childhood. She felt assured that he, would approve her decision. He would sacrifice- himself for truth and for -her happi- ness-.-.ah, yes, that thought of her own' happiness again awakened self-reproach. 'Her happiness was involved in the question of her father's safety~ Her love for Hugh Fitzhugh, thrilling her whol~ frame at that moment, might it not be selfish? ~0ught she to sacrifice her father to her own happiness? She was racked with doubt. Her 'soul, exhausting itself in agitation and' perplexity, wavered and groped for the path of duty. Believing that she had done right, and yet doubting, she sunk at last to sleep, through phy- 0~ Ii page: 268-269[View Page 268-269] 268 RORBUCIi. sieni and mental weariness. She slept several liotir~. When ~he awoke, Mrs. Palmer sat at her bedside. That fluent lady, having a speech ready, b~gan at once ~ "These are sad times, Miss Fairfax. But tmnporct mietan/ur, you know. You have lost one home but you are offered another-the darkest hour is just b~- fore the dawn .-.We must bow to the decrees of Pro- vidence -When we submit a cause to the arbitrament of arms we must abide the event..-We bave deter- mined what ir~ best for you, and you should be thank- ful..-Albert's plan is the best for all parties -His Lather thinks so, and he is very wise -Albert is one of the kindest men alive --You will think so when you know him better-I have always said he was.- He is firm-very firm-justique tenorem flectere uo,& odium cogit non gratia suade4 as the poet says-he nevei' gives up a project.-So, my dear Miss Fairfax, you had better consent" '~ Mrs. Palmer, you seem to be an accomplice in your son's scheme, which I begin to comprehend. My course is taken. If you are appointed to be my j3iler, I will thank you to spare 'me your lecture. If y~u ai'e permitted to leave, me alone, I b~g you to grant me that relief." -" Albert thinks that in your present frame of mind solitude would not be good for you~-Solitudinem f~iciuht et pacem appellant .-T hat is not right-it is not good for man to be alone, nor woman either, as the Bible says "..-.--. "Then let m&have silence, I pray you." In the evening of thai day, and during the next day; the importunate suitor repeated hi~ visits, and endeavored, by every art at his command, to over- come the reluctance of his captive to become ins I ROEBUCK. - 269 bride. When her faculties had recovered from the first shock of calamity, she was able to detect the drift of his plot, and to weigh his threats and his persuasions with a clear judgment. She doubted no more as to her duty. lie found her purpose immova- ble. His persecution. sometimes wrung tears from her eyes, and sometimes provoked her to repel him with indignant scorn. He was neither melted by her~ sorrow nor shaken by her scorn. His cruelty was cool, but he was not insensible to the impression of beauty that varied with her varying passion. Lovei for one whom he tQrtured was impossible; but the torture revealed charms in th\vjctim that kindled desire in a pitiless breast. page: 270-271[View Page 270-271] 2~7~ ROEBUCK. 4 11~ ChAPTER XXV. MARIC MARLLI~. ABOUT sense on the second day of her imprison- ment, the chamber in which Miss Fairfaix was de- tained, was again entered by Albert Palmer. She arose and stood as she always did while he was in the room, thus silently protes1~ing against his intrr~sion. He advanced, addressing her in words~ of ordinary salutation, with an. air of deferential courtesy. Re- ceiving no response, he proceeded to speak in a strain of sentiment, which became warmer as he went on, and, finally, less delicate. With some ardor of expres- sion on his lips aiid in his ey&s, he moved towards her, with an arm extended, as if he would lay his hand upon her. Stepping backward she waved him off and said, quietly, but decisively, "no nearer, sir." He paused, clasped his hands together, and spoke in an obsequious tone: "Ah, my dear Julia, do not continue to trample on my love." "Mr. Palmer," she replied, "I beg that this insult.. ing mockery shall cease." "Then you doom your father to a dungeon ?" he asked, with a sneer. "My duty to my father, sir, is not a subject for dis- cussion between you and me. Use it not to barb your taunts. I aiii now proof against them. I know you now and I despise you, I detest you, I defy you." He turned to the chamber door and locked it. lie ROEBUCK. 271 then returned towards Julia, his eyes glaring with ignQble passions. "By Heaven," he .cried, "you shall consent to marriage or prate no more of honor~" She retired before kiim, but springing for rd, he attempted to seize her. She eluded his grasp by tep- ping up on the bed. Retreating to the opposite i e of it, whi~h was against a wall, she stood there in a posture ot defiance, pointing a pistol at Palmer. Her movements, as well as his, were so Tapid that his face almost touched the weapon before he was aware that she held it. Seeing it then, he started back with a gesture of fear, and stood iii a shrinking attitude, gaz- ing at the pistol. While they thus confronted each other, they heard a light rap on' the door, and under- stood that Mrs. Palmer desired admittance. He slowly retreated to the door and .opened ~t. As he retired, Julia descended from the bed. She had restored. the little weaPon to her pocket when Mrs. Palmer entered, and her son, scowling at'Jalia, went out. The small pistol which Julia had held in her hand, rather ~a toy than a weapon, was one which her father had procured for her after she had been endangered by negroes, as related in the preceding pages. He gave her some~ lessons in the use of it, so that she might be able to defend herself in sudden peril, such as the recent events and the condition of the country led him to apprehend. She seldom carried it, how- ever, and it was by chance that, when she4was prepar- ing to flee from the mansion of Roebuck, she put on a gown, in the pocket of which the pistol had been left. In the excitements of that night she did not observe it, but she discovered it the ..next day. She reniem- bered it when Palmer attempted to seize her, and instantly availed herself of it, as we have seen, for her defence. I page: 272-273[View Page 272-273] When she was again left with Mrs. Palmer she walked to ~nd fro, agitated with an indignant sense of insult and outrage. She uttered no word of complaint to the mother and agent of her persecutor. Her spirit was bruised, b~it it was roused. Still alone, in the power of her enemies, she defied them. She would not' bow before a foe who left her no choice but between defiance and dishonor. Night caine on, but, at Julia's request, the room was noi~ lighted. She sat down by a window and looked out' at the sky. Mrs. Palmer, seated in a rock.. ing chai~ at the opposite side of the chamber, began to yawn; and finally fell asleep. The night was clear and still. While Julia gazed at the bright stars, her excitement gradually abated. When her veins yet throbbed with passion, the quiet heavens seemed to her imagination to regard with cruel indifference the woes and crimes of earth. But as the tide of vio~ lent emotion subsided, higher and serene sentiments * responded more faithfully to the sublime sense of that eternal quiet "It is not indifference to wrong," she said to herself, "that we should read in those sleep~ * less eyes of Heaven, but their far-seeing watch regards the end as well as the beginning of these dark scenes in which we grope and suffer. Their serene silence is the h6mage of nature to the unerring Providence which guides all events on earth as in Heaven. Darkling, but not disrnhyed, I will endeavor to walk by the light that Comes from above, and trust the consequences to Him who o'dains right and redresses eviL" While her mind was composing itself by such re~ elections, she was started by~the sight of a man's heaj near the window. Wondering, but rather hoping thai;' * fearing, she leaned her face against the pane and looked' out into the dark. She 4i~eov~red that the man was upon a ladder, and as h~ dtew' near to the' window, he made a sign of silence to her. She did not recognize him, but believing that all her enemies were within the house, she readily concluded that he was a friend. Listening for the deep breathing of Mrs. Palmer, and being 1~bus assured that she still slept, Julia opened the sash quietly and beard hen name whispered. "What do you want V' ,she whi& pered, in reply. "Follow me ;" and the man descended the ladder. Dreading no danger equal to that which she left behind, she followed without hesitation. When they were upon the ground, the inan~, wh~ was then seen to wear the Confederate uniform, led her in silence to a clump of trees at some distance fron~ the house. There they found another ~rson, mounted, and holding the bridles of two horses. There was a woman's saddle on one of them, and, as Julia soon discovered, this was her favorite, Arab. First assisting her to mount, her conductor got upon his horse' and the three rode away through the fields. They moved caixtiously, and not a word was spoken until, after rid~ ing a mile or r~iore, they entere&a wood. "Now, Miss Fairfax," said the man who released her, and whom she recognized as Lieutenant Mark Marlin, while she knew his companion to be Baxter, "we are safe for the present. It is for you to say where we shall go." "To my father, if I can," she replied. "We hear that he has been sent out of the county." "Alas, it is true, then. Let me go to my mother." "We will conduct you to her. She is now about Len miles from here. We must ride pretty briskly if 27~ ROEBUCk. ROEBUCW.. 273 275 278 page: 274-275[View Page 274-275] ROEBUCK. r ROE-BUOK. y'ou please, because, after leaving you, we must travel as far as we can before morning' for our own safety and and to rejoin our regiment." As they rode rapidly and cautiously over rough. by- ways to avoid pursuit, they could hold but little con- versation. Julia, however., learned from Marlin what he knew about her mother., and that Baxtei' had ob- tained from blind Pete the information on which they had acted in facilitating her escape. Thus they knew in what chamber Miss Faii'fax was detained, where her horse could be found, where a ladder was kept, and other particulars, the knowledge of which made this enterprise tolerably safe and easy to the two Confede~ rates. Her horse had been taken from Roebuck by the Federal soldiers, but, by order of Colonel Wesel, was.delivered to Mr. Palmer, at that gentleman's re~ quest. He stated to the colonel that the young lady had taken refuge in his house, and insinuated that she did not agree with her father in political sentiment and that she might possibly become connected witt his own family. These representations served not only to secure the possession of her horse, but to silence inquiry, if it should otherwise become kndwn to the colonel that Miss Fairfax was at Mr. Palmer's. Baxter, after his escape from the village, concealed himself in the neighborhood nntiVthe next morning, and then starting to overtake his regiment, he fell in with Mark Marlin, who had come home to take care of his sister. Notwithstanding his own affliction and the sad duties which the death of his sister imposed upon him, the lieutenant, as soon as he heard of Miss Fairfax's situation, resolved to rescue her. He imme- diately set about the attempt, with 'Baxter' ance, and we have seen the result. Arriving before the house in which Mr~ Fairfax was then a guest, Marlin informed Julia that he and his companion must leave her, and requested that their presence in the county might not be, mentione, until they would have time to travel beyond the reach of the enemy. "how can I ever thank you as you deserve, gen- tlemen?" said Julia. "I am still your debtor, Miss Fairfax; but, if you please, we will leave these things to be spoken. of some other time ;" replt~d Marlin, to whom Baxter left the conversation with Miss Fairfax ~ for his own audacity was cowed, and his saucy tongue was mute in presence of a lady whoiii he was obliged to respect. "I know" she said, "that I must not detain you, and I fear that already your delay, for mysake, has exposed you .to danger. Never can I cease to be grateful to you. In happier times, for us all, I hope,. I may be able to prove my gratitude." ~' Have you any message for the regiment-the boys, Miss Fairfax." "Tell the brave meil that the hearts of their country women ~re always with them. May God1 bless them. Tell Colonel Fitzhugh that-that I-I have not for gotten him." "You remember, then, as gallant a soldier as ever drew a sword. Farewell, Miss Fairfax." "Farewell, Mr. Marlin; farewell, Mr. Baxter. I shall neverforget"-' Baxter briefly echoed her farewell, while she shook hands with them both, and they hurried away before she concluded the sentence. Julia, alone, approached the house in which she expected to meet her mother. fr 274 275 page: 276-277[View Page 276-277] ROEBUCK. At that late hour all was silent, but alarms were then so' frequent, that every family was alert. As soon as she 'knocked at the door an upper window was cau- tiously opened, and a voice inquired who was there. She gave the necessary explanation, and was admit. ted. Her mother, who slept Uut little, recognized her 'voice, and immediately called' her into her own cham- ber. 'The meeting between them could not be with- out joy, nor yet could it be without sorrow. To be thus united, after such a separation, was rapture. To re- mind each other of the absence, suffering and danger of another', ~sb dear to both, was anguish. In smiles and tears, in embraces and regrets, in conV~ersation about, the one on whom their anxious thoughts were centered, they spent the hours, until the sun was high in the heavens. It was not until the tlush of excite- ment faded from her mother's face, and the pitiless light of day fell upon it, that Julia was fully aware of the ravages that terror and affliction had made there. When she looked upon. that form so frail, those cheeks so wan, the pallid lips and the sunken eyes, apprehension for her mother's health divided her heart with anxiety for her father's safety. Julia's sensibility was both delicate and warm. But no excess of feeling ever prevailed long over th~ clear judgment and steady sense of duty which habi.. tually regulated her conduct. Under a delicate sur- face of feminine beauty, grace and tenderne8s, her character contained a strength of' principle which made even the play of her emotions, like the vibra~. tions of a watch-spring, contribute to the practical, uses of life. Her sympathy with sickness and dis- tress did not vanish in sighs. It prompted her to give relief with quiet and thoughtful energy, whilst 4 I~oBBUOE. 2'7'7 only the extreme gentleness of her ministrations showed how much of another's suffering 'she felt as her own. Thus during the next few days, she de- voted herself to th~ care of her afflicted mother. 'Knowing her tastes and habits, anticipating her wants with quick intelligence, providing for her physical co~nfaft with untiring diligence, her daughter also en- deavored to soothe her mind. If anything could have had that effect, it would have been the presence of Julia. Withdrawing her thoughts from her own troubles in order that she might win her mother from despondency, she became~ almost cheerful. Jier noiseless step seemed rather light from hope than stealthy from fear. When to the loveliness of her person, and the sweetness of her countenance, was ad~ ded the tender earnestness of filial affection, she looked, while she hovered over her mother's pillow, as if her love alone might dispel all gloom from the brow on which her soft, white hand was fondly laid~ She e~- erted all the charms of her voice and cenVersation to banish the spectre of despair that haunted her mother by day and by nigl~, Yet, she found 'that, as the reader already knows, the delicate lady continued t~ pine and waste away. Indeed, Julia. became con- vinced that the life of the wife depended upon the restoration of the husband to liberty. Father and mother-the lives of both, she believed, were in peril, and might depend oxi the same contingency. When she had arrived at this conclusion, her thoughts uaturally reverted to the proposal of Palmer, which, as he declared, might have led to the release of her father. But, even n6w, she could not repent that she had rejected it. She remembered it with 'increased disgust, when it appeared to her as a profli- page: 278-279[View Page 278-279] 278 lIOEBUC1~. .4 gate proposal to traffic with' two lives so dear to her, so worthy of honor, and so afflicted. But it was not in her nature to look on misery without an effort to relieve it, and, least of all, the misery of her own parents. Her mind addressed itself with customary directness and fbrce to. the question how she might procure the restoration of her father to his family. After much reflection, she came to a 'resolution, which she first disclosed to Mrs. Fitzhugh. That lady treated Julia as a daughter and shared all her cares and counsels. She, tao, believed that the days of Mrs. Fairfax would be few unless her husband were released, and that his life might be endangered by his imprisonment under the actual circumstances Of. course, she participated in hi~ daughter's desire to obtain his liberation. But there seemed to be no means wIthin the power of the two Women to effect that object. They Were assured that the Federal officer commanding in the county was hostile te Gel.. onel Fairfax, and that the Palmers wc~re accomplices in the oppression practiced upon himif they were not the instigators. It was not deemed possible to induce those men to relax the rigor of persecution except upon a condition known only to Julia, and regarded her with horror. The two ladies discussed the subject several times without a satis~hctory result. ~At last, when it was again renewed, Julia said to Mrs. Fitzhugh........" I believe I can obtain my father's re- lease." "How is it possibk~, my dear Julia ?" "I will go to Washington and petition the Federal authorities." "You are a brave girl, Julia, t~ make such an attempt, but it would be useless." flOEBUCIC. 279 "I bope not, Mrs. Fitzhugh, but, at all events, I may succeed, and there appears to be no other chance of saving their lives. I will try." "What rational ground can you find to hope for success ~ It is not probable that you will ever reach Washington. I say nothing of the dangers. by the * way, for I know you will not be deterred by them, * and, my dear child, I cannot say that you ought to be. But if you were in Washington, the authorities will certainly act according to the reports and suggestions of their own officers and adherents in the county. What else can they know of your father 'I" -" That seems plausible. But I imagine that men in high office must be free from some of the ~bitter and vulgar animosity which is apt to affect inferior agents. Besides, they are remote from the intrigues of this neighborhood. Surely there is some one in authority* who, in spite of' political virulence, will feel compass. sion for the offeringss of so good a man and of his innocent wi!&' * "Alas, I fear that the military among us are but too faithful representatives of their government. Was not Colonel Tremaine removed to make room fir the pre~ sent commander ~" "These circumstances and many others are discour- * aging. But I have reflected upon them all. I see discouragement but not impossibility. Since, we have thought of no other plan that is even within the range of possibility, I am resolved to try this one. I cannot sit ~till and see my mother die ~vithoi4 an effort to save her. Even' the hope which my undertaking will inspire may arrest her decline. I intreat you, if you can, to encourage her ~nd to remove any objection that she may oppose to myattelupt." page: 280-281[View Page 280-281] 280 RO]~BUcK. "If you aje resolved, I will ~iot Continue' to urge argtuiients *hich might discourage you without changing your purpose. But how/do ~OU intend to travel ?" "On horseback and alone. There is no other way." "You cannot pass through the Federal lines with- out a passport." "I must avoid them. Of course, I cannot obtain a passport from those who have sent my father to Washington." the am not thought to be a timid woman, Julia, but dangers of such a journey through a country over~ run with armies, marauding parties and other enemies, appear to me--but I must not frighten you." "Our Heavenly Father will shield me." I pray that He may." Mrs. Fairfax, wheninformed of her daughter's pur~ pose, shuddered at the prospect of another separation, and dreaded the perils whi~h Julia must encountei~ But the hope of seeing her husbandonce more, with the appeals made to her by her daughter, and the arguments of Mrs. Fit~hugh, overcame her Opposition. After the matter was settled, Julia pleased herself with the fancy that her mother's eyes were lighted with more animation than they had shown since the night of her daughter's return to her~ 4 '1 I I. 4 R.O]i~BUqK. 281 CHAPTER XXVI. 'ruE JOURNEY. BUT little delay w~s necessary y for the preparalions * which Julia had to make for her long and dangerous journey. Not much conidhe carried, if she had desired to carry. much. The fire wh~h destroyed her father's house consumed her wardrobe, and country ladies had but poor opportunitie~ of shopping in pixie during the war. She might be ready to travel alr~iost as soon as Arab could be saddled. She had no m~ney, and could obtain none, except a few dollar's in sPecie and a supply of treasury notes, which were almost worthless beyond the Confederate lines, though they were the exclusive currency of the Confederacy. She was to travel alone, as well because nearly all those who might have been her protector~ ~vere in the army ~r driven from the county, as because, in the country through which she had to pass, a male companion might chal-. lenge annoyance and could not defend hbr. It was a country where even an army of ConfederateS could not. hold its ground. With a brave but sad heart she took leave of her frienc~s. The parting between her and her mother was a severe affliction to both. Th~ hope of her hus-. band's release sustained 1~irs; Fairfax, and Julia, im~ peeled by love and duty, would not falter at the first of those trials which she had anticipated. Early in the morning she set out upon her solitary jo~1rney, 'and rode nearlythe entire day without pausingt~ rest~ '1 I page: 282-283[View Page 282-283] 282 ROEBUCI~. She felt but little fatigue. She was a delicate woman, and had been nurtured in wealth and refinement but not in luxury. The habits of her life had tended to confirm rather than enervate her strength, both of bo~y and of mind. It was a rare state of society in which nature was thus refined and strengthened at the same time, as iron is. changed to steel. During the first day she traveled through a part of the country that was familiar to her. Without much difficulty she avoided the most frequei4ted highways and places of resort for the Federals, and she neither met any troops nor encountered any impediment. She saw" but few people. Not many remained at home, except old men, women and children, an4 they generally kept close to their houses. Some boys and old men and a few women were at work in the fields. twice Julia sa them plowing,~ with cows Horses and mules were not to be seen. Some dwell.. ings were wholly deserte~I; the doors and widows were broken; the fruit-.tr~es about tl)em. were hacked do~wn; the gardens were destroyed; the barns, fences and stacks had been burned. Here and there brick chimneys of wooden houses that had been devoured by the flames, stood as milestones of invasion. A few slaves, old, decrepid or faithful, remained with the white inhabitants, but most of them had straggled off: Now and then Julia passed a negro, lying asleep at the way.. side, with his shining face upturned to the sun, or saw stout black fellows strolling about in listless indolence. The lethargy of that race seemed to forebode a relapse into lazy barbarism as Soon as the spur and rein of the white man's authority were withdrawn, as the neglected soil was resuming the unfruitful wildne~ of nature. The desolation which Julia Wit11es,3~d ROEBUCIC~ 283 deepened her sadness. But it is impossible to record all she saw and thought and felt on that journey with-. out overspreading these pages with intolerable gloom. In our reminiscences of those times we must soften the truth if we would obtain a hearing or belief. Late in the afternoon, Julia arrived at the house of a friend, and there she spent the night. She heard a rumor there, that daring the day a party. of Federal soldiers- had been seen within a feW miles of the place. This rumor, however, scarcely added a new. fear to the constant apprehension that her journey might be interrupted. The next morning she took the road again, traveling through a district lees known to her than that through which she had passed the day be-. fore. She was, therefore, obliged to keep on the main hi~"hway. When she had pursued her solitary way two or three hours, sh~ looked back, and saw several horsemen about a mile behind her, and appa-. rently moving towards her. Fearing they were Fed-. eral soldiers, she put her horse to a quicker p~ce. They followed, however, still more rapidly than she rode. For a short time they were concealed from her by a hill over which she was passing, when she dis-. covered them. In a few minutes she saw them gal- loping over the crest of the hill,* not more ~hau half a mile from her. Then she imagined that she could distinguish the tall form of Albert Palmer among them. In fact, he was there. lie had not discovered her place of retreat after she disappeared from h~s father's house. But, being with some cavalry, that were foraging or ravaging near the place at which she spent the first night of her jouriiey, he learned in the morning from the gossip of a negro, that she had set ] 283 page: 284-285[View Page 284-285] '284 0 E 13 U C K. 285 ROEBUCK. out from there alone. Immediateljiie started, with a few followers, in pursuit of her. As soon as she became convinced that she was pur- sued and, suspected that Palmer was among the pur- suers, she put Arab to his utmost speed.. The eavalr~f behind her used their sj~iirs freely. Palmer, dashing off~ before the others, came on at a furious gait. Julia, a practiced horse.woman, on a fleet and spirited horse, could not easily be overtaken; but, for three or four miles, the chase pressed Arab to his mettle. The gal- hint horse, excited by the race, seemed to share the determination of his rider to distance the pursuers. ii' Gradually he widened the spae~ between him and the foremost of the cavalry. Relying upon his qualities, Julia rode with steady courage, until, suddenly, she beheld a cloud of .dust rising from the road before hers Suspecting at once that 'there was a larger body of Federal cavalry in front of her, and that' no chance of escape was left, her heart sunk for a moment. But she looked back, and the sight of Palmer, in eager pursuit, reminded her that, whatever might be beibre her, she was lea~4ng her most cruel enemy behind. She resolved to go forward. Onward she flew. Her rapid flight soon brought her in sight of five or six horsemen ~who were approaching on the road before her. Onward still 'she flew. She was very near them before she 'could discern, under the dust which covered them, that' their uniforms' were of Confed- erate ~'ey. Checking her horse, she cried out to thern-"J am pursued, by Federal cavalry." "Howmany~"' "1. have seen ten or twelve. One of them rides far in advance of the rest. There! He comes in sight." 4 284 "l~ide on, madam. You are safe. Colonel Fit~- hugh's regiment is not far behind us. We must move forward." They started at a brisk trot. When Palmer s~w them first, he thought they must be Federals. He was almost among them before he discovered h'is mis~ take. 'Then, wheeling hi~ horse, he was pursued in hi~ turn. Julii saw no more of him. Riding slowly on, and wondering at the chance which brought her so unexpectedly out of danger into the protection of Hugh Fitzhugh, she saw a cloud of dust, which, at a considerable distance, indicated the approach of his regiment. A spring, near the side of the road, attracted her attention, and she stopped to rest and refresh herself. She sat down on the grass, near the spring, and; after drinking, she bathed her brows witk hei' hands. The spring was shaded by trees and vines. With the in- stinct of a woman, expecting a lover, she arranged her hair 'and dress, while she waited for 'the regiment to come up. When the head of the column drew near, she stood upon a grassy knoll near the spring, under a canopy of vines. ~She held the bridle, while her horse, with distended nostrils,, ears erect, and arched neck, gazed ~t the warlike array. Her veil was thrown back, her fair complexion was rosy with excitement, her hazel eyes were moistened with the mystery of tears that were not - weeping, and her graceful form stOod' a picture of~, living loveliness in a frame of sylvan beauty. When hugh Fitzhugh, turning from the dusty road to the spri~-suddenly beheld hei', he' was amazed,' enraptured, alarmed. "My Julia," he exclaimed2 as he leaped from hi~ horse, and ran towards her. Has. page: 286-287[View Page 286-287] ROE B'U C K. tending to meet him, she threw herself into his arms, and burst into tears. * ",J~ilia, my own Julia, why is this ~? Why do you weep? ~hy are you here ?" For some moments she was unable to answer his anxiously repeated questions. But when the par~ oxysm of emotion was passed, she lifted her head, and looked in his face, while she smiled through 4ier. tears. '"Pardon me. It was a woman's weakness. I weep for joy or grief.-I know not why. But it is over. .1 can talk to you now. I must not detain, you long, 'and I have much to say." Then, glancing at the cavalry, she blushed deeply at the display of emotion which she had made. She drew her veil over her face and whispered, "0, for- give, me, Hugh." He pressed her hand, and was leading her to a seat when they heard a shout.' Al- ready her ~iame was passing' from' mouth to mouth, and as it ran along the ranks, the men began to cheer for Miss Fairfax. Many of them knew and admired her. Others cheered, because they loved their col- onel, and knew or suspected that he loved her. Finally, some there were who shouted, simply be- cause cheers are contagious. At all events, the name of ML~s Fairfax was echoed with cheers along the whole line. The enthusiasm waxed warmer and warmer, until.Julia, turning her face to the regiment; raised her veil, and graceftilly acknowledged the bois- terous salutation. While the regiment marched on, Hugh Fitzhn~h, seated. beside Julia, learned from h'w the circumstan~ ces which led to this meeting. They were soon joined l~y her uncle, Doctor Dick, who had been with his ROEBUCK. ~2'S7' company since the opening of the spring campaign. What, Colonel Julia, have you come to take eotn~ mand in person ?" he exclaimed. Then be shook both her hands and kissed her over and over. It was not tong, however, before he was seriously engaged in the discussion to which Julia's communication gave rise. l3oth to her uncle and to her lover, her journey ap- Kpcared too hazardous, and .the object of it wholly impracl7icable. The~ urged her to abandon it and re- turn with them. The e was a long debate, in which their solicitude for he ~afe.ty contended with her anxiety for the liberty of her father~ iind lives of both her parents. They found her filial devotion invincible, and nothing was left for them but to consider Mw they might contribute to the ease and safety of her journey. Colonel Fitzhugh proposed to send a guard. with her, but gave up that proposition when sl~ men- tioned her, reasons for traveling alone. The doctor lhen declared that he would himself escort her. He insisted 'that, with his servant, Caleb, he could relieve her of any troubles and embarrassments to which a woman traveling alone was liable, and that a little old man, as he styled himself, and a poor told. negro,' would not provoke more hostility, than a lady She doubted the prudence of the proposition, and would have saved her ui~cle from dangers wjiich were useless. But he combated her, objections with 'sonic plausibility of argument, and more pertinacity ~f purpose. He was seconded by her lover, and finally prevailed. Colonel Fitzhugh envied the doctor his office, and would gladly 'have taken his place if propriety and duty had per- nritted. He lingered beside her after this matter was arranged as long as his conscience allowed, and they exchanged some of those tender words which are pro- page: 288-289[View Page 288-289] 288 ROEBUCK. faued by publication. Besides the natural~ reluctance of a lover to leave her, he felt a presentiment that this parting might be final, fo# he knew that they were both going into danger. But .thethought of his own coming danger reminded him of the urgency of his militax:y duty. Without knowing 1~he design which he would hasten to fulfil, at the peril of his life, she knew and appreciated the demands of military service, and would not detain hi~n. With a sorrowful farewell they parted. Doctor Fairfax summoned the faithful Caleb, who, with others of lii~ class, was riding at leisure behind the regiment. He had followed his master whenever he was with the army, and, in that branch of the art military which fell within hi& sphere, he had acquired the ready skill of an old campaigner. After testifying his delight at meeting with Miss Julia, by bows and grins and words of learned length and thundering sound, he applied himself, under the doctor's direc.. tion, to the care of the horses and the arrangeinentof the baggage of the~ expedition in which hi~ master had just enlisted. With his expert aid everything was ready for.th~ rdad in~ a short time, and Julia, with her escort, resumed her journey. During the ~rest of the day no ev~nt occurred to them of sufficient importance to justify recital. While th~y rode along, Julia related tO her uncle in detail all that had recently happened at Roebuck and in its vicinity.' The doctor was often moved to indigna- tion, and the misfortunes of his brother and his bro- -ther's wife mol:e than once drew tears to his eyes. As to her own sufferings, while she was, a captive in Mr. Palmer's house, she maintained a peculiar reserve in speakingboth to her uncle an4 Hugh Fitzhugh. They fl9EBt'.CK. 289 learned from herL.little more than Mann and. Da~ter had already told~t~hem~ Even to ~her mother asenti- ment~ of maidenly modesty prevented her froiur~eal- ing all that occ~mrred in her chamber at Mr. Palmer's Perhaps, too, a consciousness that her ova indignation Tas more intense than it had ever been before, and a * scrupulous fear of carrying revenge too far, ~or of in- volving others in attempts at extreme violence, re- strained~ her from exposing the whole enormity of * Albert Palmer's guilty Enough was known, however, to Cornel Fitzhugh and her uncle to brand'Palmer in their estimation as~ a monster of iniquity, who had wronged her whom they regarded as the most inno- cent and most lovely among women At evening the travelers arrived at the house of a farmer whose name was Bell. He was an acquaint~ ance of Doctor Fairfax, and ~consented to entertain them for the night. This was a considerable proof of hospitality; for, ~although Mr. Bell had a good farm, he had nothing to eat for men or horses, except a little corn and bacon,~which he kept concealed lest it should be taken from him or destroyed. Experience had taught jminithis fear and an adroit in in con- cealing the remnants of his supplies. Besides, there was then in his house, awaiting interment, the dead body of his son. The young man had been a soldier in Fitzhugh's regiment, and died suddenly within a few miles of his father's house. As the funeral rites of "rebels" were sometimes. interrupted with insult and outrage .in those parts of the State which were over- run by the invaders, it had been deemed necessary to bring home t~he body of the Confederate soldier pri- vately during the preceding night, and it was to be buried with equal secrosy the very night of Julia's 13 page: 290-291[View Page 290-291] 2~O RO]~BUCl~ arrival. Notwithstanding their own destitution and affliction, however, Mr. Bell and his family received the traveIer~, and did all that was in their power to make them comfortable. At midnight two or three neighbors had assembled, and, with them, Doctor Fairfax assisted at the inter- ment of the son of his host. They carried the corpse to a ren~ote part of the farm, followed by the father and mother, and lighted only by the stars. Arriving at a spot where a grave was already dug among some old field pines, one of the neighbors lit the candle in a lantern which he had brought Its scanty light tinged the faces of the mourners with a melancholy tint of yellow, and faintly streaming through the pines, it made the heavy masses of dark shadow more funereaL No word was spoken. The rougheoffin was let down by means of ropes into the rude receptacle of mortal dust. / The first clods falling with ~dull rattle on the board; heard in the dead silence of midnight, and tell- ing that a beloved son was to be covered away from sight forever, so shacked the weeping motherthat she shrieked. But. the cry af anguish was suppressed, and all was still again. The mournful task was finished in silence. IIOEBUOR. 291 CHAPTER XXVII. DOCTOR DICL DOCTOR FAIRFAX procured from Mr. Bell a suit of plain ckthes, and left his Confederate uniform. He was about to travel through a part of the State exclu- sively occupied by Federal troops. Not being an en- listed soldier, he felt at liberty to assume or quit the service and its badges for honest and needful pur~ poses at hi~ own discretion. Traveling with his niece for an innocent and p~eific object, he though that an old man, in citizen's dress, might be suffered to pass unmolested where a Confederate soldier would cer- tainly be arrested. He did not explain~ to Julia that this ~bange of di'es~ might be so interpreted, possibly, as to augment l~is danger in case of capture. Nor could he bring himself to rely, so absolutely on the immunity of age, innocence and a civil suit, that he would leave his revolvers behind. lie carried two pis- {ols. Thus he set out on* the n~xt day's journey in ambiguous trim, hoping for peace, but prepared for war. They rode t~yo or three hours of the morning with- out interruption, ,and having no occasion for action, Doctor Dick, of course, filled up the time with talk. Julia thought and felt too mu9h for easy conversation. Her uncle was free to indulge himself in soliloquy or in lecture. They came upon a part of the road which passed for a distance of a mile or two' through a forest. They were riding at a walk, aiid Doctor Fairfax had fallen into a disquisition. page: 292-293[View Page 292-293] 2 ~2 HOF~BU GiC. "Twb rival systems of ciyilization'~!-so his dis- course was running on-.-" have been developed on this continent. The Northern has reached its most advanced stage in Massachusetts, th~ Southern in Vir- ginia. One is founded on trade, the other on agri- culture. One flourishes in cities, as in hot-houses, the other ripens in the sunshine of the country. The Northern is of more rapid growth; the Southern more perfect. By some fatality this trial of force between them ha~ been brought on soon enough to give the North all the advantage of its precocious strength, while half the South is not yet rid of t~ie stumps. I fear, as you know, that in this struggle' the North will prevail. Then the world and posterity will be taught that the N~rthern Bystem is the best, every way. The World is sycophantic, and listens to a con- queror. You know my opinions of this Yankee civil- ization. It makes white slaves, while we U50 the black slaves made by nature. The leading tendency of our system~ is to' cultivate virtue; ef the Yankee' system, to sharpen the wits. Our refinements are re- finemehts of virtue. Our fantastic excess is an exag- geration 9f honor and courage. The~ selfish princi~ ciples that we develop as a prop to virtue, is pride-.- theirs, prudence. We incur among the Yankees the disdain which. rustics incur among city- fops. The prime products of our social system. are' noble men and' women. The Northern-see--there are sped- mens now, I verily believe." The travelers were enierging froni the wood, and were in a view of a farm-house that stood at no great distance from them. Fr~rn the house a lane led to the road on which they were traveling. In the lane, four mounted men, in Federal uniform, leading three 292 4 horses, had just turned away from the house, and were approaching the road. The doctor suspected that the led horrses had just been taken from citizens, and per.. haps from the farmer who lived there. The prospect of meeting the soldiers was not pleasaxit, but there was no way to avQidA~he1n, as the doctor concluded, and he resolved to advance without any appearance of distrust. He slipped, however, one of his pistoI~ into the- hands of ~Jaleb, with an injunction not to show it, nor to use it, until ordered to do so by his master. Julia begged ~her uncle to make no resistance, whatever i~ight happen. He assured her that it was his' prirpose to avoid a collision if possible. When the Virginians were nearly opposiW to the mouth of the lane, the Federal soldiers came out of it and met them on the road. The doctor saluted the strangers vourteously, and would have passed on. But a non-comm~s~ioned 'officer, who appeared to be the leader of the party, ordered him to halt. The or- der was obeyed, of course, a~d he who had given it, after looking at the horses, and fixing his attenti~ particularly on Arab, said: "Them's good horses you're riding." "They are tolerable nags," the doctor adiuitted.~ "We're looking for sich horses, we are." We do not wish to sell 'ours~' "Good; we don't want to buy." "I believe we are not likely to agree upon an ex- change, either." "You'r~~a comical old cock. Do you take. us for -horse-traders? Don~t you see we're soldiers? We take horses~ we do. I've a particular fancy for the woman's horse, but as she's a woman, we'll leave her I page: 294-295[View Page 294-295] 294 IIOBBtYCK. the old sorrel we got at that house.. Item do for her. Come, Cuffee, take her saddle and put it on the sorrel. We'll just take your horse, and the old man's ~a&dles and all." While he was speaking, he dismounted, and ap- proached Julia. She said to him in her softest tones; "I am sure, sir, if you knew how I prize this horse and for what a holy purpose I need him now, you would npt take him from me." "Wouldn't I, though? Come, get down without any more palaver." He seized her by the arm and pulled her so roughly downward that she ~was glad to leap to the ground. He then lifted her veil and said: "By...-.--. that's a pretty secesh face. I must have a kiss;" He seemed about to suit the action to the word, when the crack of a pistol was. heard and he fell deai~ Doctor Fairfax had prevented the insult. Instantly a fight ensued, which was so sudden, rapid and brief, that Julia could distinguish nothing but the firing of revolvers until it was over. She was near being trampled upon by the horses in the affi'ay, but she was below the range of the shots. In a min- ute the firing ceased. Two of the Federals lay dead on the ground; the other two wore flying and appar- ently wounded. Caleb was down, bleeding freely. Three barrels oPhis pistol were empty. DoctorFair- fax sat on his horse, looking at the t~Mo retreating sob diers. Presently he said; "Julia, they have quieted old Dick," and he began to sink upon the horse's neck. She ran to him, and supported him while he slipped to the ground. "Where are you hurt, Uncle Dick ?" she ,asked, in great alarm. RGBBUCK. 295 "Here, Julia; hurt to death."* "Oh, no, you will not die," she cried, "you will not die." "Yes, I know-I can live but a few minutes. When the breath is out, you must leave me and save yQUrSelf. The villains will send others after us, I'll not keep you long. I finished two of them. I 'be- lieve another, thanks to Caleb, is not long for this world. ~Three Yankees the less to destroy our peo- pIe." "Your voice is strong, Uncle Dick. Let me ex- amine your wound. I am sure it cannot be fatal. I ~j~yill go for help~" "You would like to Ailo something for Uncle Dick. But it is useless. Raise my head a little-..-.so.---now you have my head iii your lap I can breathe a few minutes longer, and I shall d.ie easy. Ah, Julia, what a tragedy &f tragedies we have wituessedwith Yankee power for the devil of the scene and Yankee policy for the plot. If I could live a little while longer I would repent of all the sins of the Yankees as they have re- pented so angrily of our sin of slavery these many years. Poor old Virginia, she was drawn into this war by the action of the States North and South of her, and now she has to fight more and suffer more than any of them. Well, I have done my duty, than1~ God. Only a few minutes more, my dear girl. I wish he had been a gentleman who shot me-I fear he was a cur. Well, I forgive him; h~ was a soldier. I am very weak. Here is your purse in my pocket. I was going to leave~ without giving it to you. I shall not need it where I am going. Ask the people of that house to take care of my body and of Caleb-poor Caleb, I fear he is badly wounded "- 2 page: 296-297[View Page 296-297] 296 ROEBUCK. IIOEBITOIC. 297 "l's gwine wid y6u, master," said Caleb, speaking with difficulty, and falling at last from his ambitious phraseology to the negro dialect, "l's gwine wid you, master." "I hope not, my faithful fellow." "ibm always wid you; l's gwine wid you now master." "Farewell, Caleb. God bless you. You have done your duty. Then fly, Jalia. Conceal yourself until night in that wood. Save your father. Tell him I die for hbki and for you and for Virginia-.as I would wish to die-for the dearest objects of my love-and I love sister Mary and- We die, Julia-you are a brave girl-the earth has not another so noble-kiss me, Julia-farewell-we die, but our country lives for.. ever-God bless Virginia-light the candle-God bless"- He spoke no more. Mr. Hart, the farmer who resided there, now stood beside Julia. 4 CHAPTER XXVIII. ~IUQH PITZHUQ)L WHEN Alb~rt Palmer, abruptly abandoning his pur.. suit of Miss Fairfax, turned to fly from the five or six Confederates who had met her, he was. mounted on a fleeter horse than any of theirs, and not sparing the weary animal, he left them at some distance. Ho would probably have escaped if his horse had not fallen in descending a hill. By ihe fall ouie of the rider's legs was broken, and being unable to move, he was .aptured. He was carried by his captor~ into the yard of a house which stood near the road, and there laid on the grass, while th~ Confederates, giving up th~ pursuit of his comrades, who had scattered them.. selves over the country, waited for the regiment to come up. Colonel Fitzhngh, after ]eavin~ Julia with her uncle at the spring; ha~tened forward. She had told him that some of his men were in pursuit of Palmer, and he had heard enough of that gentleman's recent con- duct to fill him with anger.. Anticipating the capture of the fugitives as possible, if not probable, he medi- tated the punishment that was due to such~ a villain. His fury being the counsellor of hi~ judgment, be vas ready to condemn the culprit to extreme torture of any kind that imagination could conceive. In his anger he dashed the spurs into his horse, as if no speed was s'~ift enough for his revenge. Whether his tempestuous thought turned to the perils through 1&I~ page: 298-299[View Page 298-299] 298 ROEBUCK. which Julia had passed, 6r to those which he was about to encounter, or to the sufferings of her father, or to the atrocities recently perpetrated against others, or to the past career of Palmer, he became more and more enraged. In this vindictive mood he dashed on to the head of his regiment. He was amazed at the scene which he then witnessed, and it recalled- his mind, to the duties of an officer. That portion of the command whic~had arrived at the place where Albert Palmer lay, w~ in the utmost confusion and disorderly excitement. T~ie report which Marlin and Baxter had brought of his conduct had been circulated among the men, and, as usual in such eases, it had~ gathered additions as it was repeated. It inflamed the minds of the soldiers to the highest pitch of resentment against one whom they regarded as a fiend. The foremost of them, seeing him in the yard, gave way to the impulses of passion. X~eaving the ranks and disrnountir~g, they hurried into the yard with threatening cries and gesture~s. Others followed. Forty or fifty men entered the enclosure. Shoot him -he's a deserter-he's a trator-he's a murderer-he tried to kill Miss Fairfax-he hung her to a bed-post -Mark Marlin had tQ cut her down-hang him-. such were the cries that expressed their purpose or their passion. Some 6f them who were near the prisoner tried to seize him, but were delayed by two or three officers. A few of the men cried, don't mur- der him-wait till the colonel comes-let the colonel deal with him. But the increase of the crowd brought ai~i increase of excitement. The uproar of threats silenced t~e the feeble voice of remonstrancee. Every moment it appeared certain that the maddened mob would obtain possessionof Palmer and execute instant revenge. ROEBUCK. 299 4- When Colonel Fit~hugh camel upon this spectacle of tumult he asked what was the matter. A soldier replied, "they've got Pahpei' in there." "What is he doing?" "Lying on the grass. They say he's wounded." "What are the men doing ?" "They are going so hang him." "Murder a prisoner 1" The violence of others struck him in its true light, and restored his reason to the mastery over his~ pas- sions. He leaped from hi'~ horse and into the yard. Pressing forward among the men, he called to them, in a voice of authority that rang above the uproar, Aot to murder a prisoner, but to return~to the ranks. Th~e who recognized him gave way for him to pass. Others, too intent on mischief to see their colonel or hear his voice, were thrust aside. In a mome~it he was beside Palmer, and looking round upon the enraged soldiers, sternly commanded them to fall back. They yielded with ~ sullen murmur to his ascendancy, and slowly retired. He rebuked them for the -crime which they had meditated, and ordered them to return to their places. Palmer implored him not to let ~he men assassinate him, but he made no reply to this supplication until the yard was cleared of soldiers. Then, casting his eyes upon the prisoner, he merely said, "you are safe now." He had Palmer carried into the house, and placed a guard around it, under 'an officer on whose firmness he could i~ely; commanding him to remain until the regimQnt had passed and to follow it, taking care that no men were left behind. He then informed Palmer that he was. to be left there at liberty, and required him to give J the ordinary parole of a prisoner of war. When this J page: 300-301[View Page 300-301] 8~O ROEBUCK. - V matter had been arranged, the prisoner began to ex- press gratitude, but the colonel abruptly left him and hastened to the regiment, which, was again in motion. Some of the men,, as he passed by them, muttered, "this was not the way the Yanks treated Colonel Fred." He chose to be deaf to such comments. His own passions, which had been so suddenly quelled, began to rebel again, and he had to ride some distance before he, felt perfectly master of himself. He then took occasion to speak to his men in words of grave reproof, and of the dishonor which some of them had almost brought up~n the regiment. He assured them th~t in a little while he would conduct them to a fai, more honorable revenge, and that the crimes of their enemies should not go unpunished. He informed them that they had a long march before them for that day and coming night, &nd he relied on their pa~ieiice, discipline and courage~for the success of an important;. enterprise. When Coloael Fitzhugh was returning, successful, from his expedition, iind had heard of the outrages which had been committed in the county of his resi~ dence, he resolved to strike a blow, if possible, which might restrain1 such inhuman excesses of military vio. lence for the future. The information obtained by Baxter encouraged him to believe that it .w~s praetica. ble, t~nd his interview with Julia did not tend to relax his resolution. He was hastening on with a hope of surprising the Federals at the village. After leaving Palmer he cQntrnued. the march until a late hour of the nigJ~ when he wa~ within three or four miles of the village. The regiment was then halted for a brief rest, but, an hour before daybreak, the men were again in their saddles. The colouel ~he~i ~d4ressed them; ROEBUCK. 801 "Soldiers! Virginians! You are about to attack the enemy--not soldiers but malefactors. They hai~e perpetrated their crimes at your own ~homes. They have desecrated your own altars. They 'have burned your own dwellings. They have robbed and insulted your own families. They have made war on women and children. They have defiled virgins. As you are men, redress the injuries of women-of your families and friends. Scourge these felons. Here' revenge is justice. In such a cause your ~abres are sacred. Count no odds against you, when Heaven must bless your valor. The enemy is a thousand; you are five hundred; you are enough. Let the word be Eliza Marlin. Follow me." There was no shout in response to this address. The clenched teeth would not open for cheers. There was an inarticulate murmur. There was a low, c~ntin- uous clash of iron, as every man felt his sabre or his carbine. Then, in stern silence, the little column 'moved off The force at the village numbered somewhat above - a thousand men~-a regiment of infantry about seven hundred strong, and about three or four hundred cav~ alry. License had destroyed the discipline and im.. paired the vigilance of the entire force. Availing himself of his local knowledge and of the~ information which he had recently received, Colonel Fitzhugh led his regiment,. undiscovered, to a point near the village, and' .then dashed into the centre of the Federal encampment before any signal of his approach was given. Officers and soldiers, suddenly aroused from sl~ep, ran from 1~heir tents to be cut down or trampled under foot, or to, flee from the mer- ciless sl4bres. On one side confusion and dismay-..~on page: 302-303[View Page 302-303] 302 ROEBUCK. the other shouts, ~strokes, wrath, triumph. Pistols were fired on every hand-a few muskets or rifles replied. Darkness added to the horror of the scene. But friends, and foes knew that the careering horsemen were Confederates and the fkigitives on foot were Federal. Here a~nd there a few Federals attempted. to stand, but they could stand only to be slaughtered. An enemy who had seen Mark Marlin there that morning would have denounced.the heart-broken boy as an unsparing savage. He and his had not been spared. All through that camp the name of 14s. sister was muttered by men who were saved from horrid deeds, perhaps , by~ the rapid dispersion of the enemy. They -were men. The Federal cavalry, finding that the infantry had been scattered, took to flight without an effort at de- fence. Some mounted horses without saddles or bri- dles and galloped away. Others on foot scampered across the adjacent fields. In a few minutes it appeared to the assailants that, of the whole Federal force, non~ remained near the village but the few who were killed or severely wounded. But it was not so. Colonel Wesel, whatever else he may have been, was a man of cour~i~/Phough suddenly awakened by an enemy in the midst of his camp, he did not lose his presence of mind. He soon discovered the real state of affairs, and thought only of retrieving the disaster. Using tIe opportunities of darkness and confusion, he cok~ elected a few men, and with them he threw himself into, a house at one end of the village. There lie deter- mined to make a stand while he sent some of his ~flk cers to rally- his flying troops, and a courier to the nearest Federal post for succor. He did not believe that the assailants were numerous or that they would ROEBUCK. 803 venture to- remain long at the village. He hoped that a sturdy show of resistance might even cause them to retire as suddenly as they came. As soon as Colonel. Fitzhngh discovered that the house was thns occupied, he divined the objects of the Federal officer, and saw the necessity of dislodging him at Qflce, and of preventing the fugitives from being rallied. He knew that it was impossible for him to hold th& village very long under any circumstances, and that if any part of it could be held by the enemy until reinforcement~ or considerations of prudence should compel him to retire, the effect of his present success would be neutralized. He sent a considerable part of the regiment to pursue the fugitives for a time, and then prepared to assault the house occupied by Colonel Wesel. When the party organize& for the purpose was ready to make the assault the day was breaking. The assailants rushed towards the house, intending to enter throj~igh the- windows. When they were within a few yards of it a well-directed volley brought several of them to the earth. Mark Marlin, springing forward, seized the ledge of a window which was rather above his head, and drawing -himself up, broke in the sash with the hilt of his sword. He climbed up to the window, and had almost entered, when he received a shot, and tell heavily back to the ground. The men behind him, and those directed to other ~n- dews, still pressed on. But the defence was- so steady and effective that it was soon found necessary to recall them, and the assault failed. Colonel Fitzhugh, still deeming it necessary to dis- lodge the Federal colonel as soon as possible, made instant preparation for another attack. He placed. N page: 304-305[View Page 304-305] ~O4 ROEBUCK. himself at the head of a number of men deemed sufib dent for the purpose. Having procured a ladder, he led them, under cover of buildings, to a spot about fifty yards from the house occupied by the enemy. Then, while a false attack was made on another side, he rushed forward. His foremost men, carrying the ladder. horizontally between them, swung it, as a ram, against the door, until they broke it, but not without, two or three of them l4~ing woundN .As soon as an opening was thus.. made, wide enough for a man to pass, Colonel Fitzhugh dashed in, followed by his. men. Within the house there was a fierce fight, hand. to-han4. It could not last long. Colonel Wesel and several of his men were killed. The rest surrendered. The victory was complete, but it was purchased with some precious blood. Besides other losses, Obb onel Fitzhugh was dangerously wounded. He was carried from the house, bleeding profuselyy. Calling the lieutenant-~olonel of his regiment to him, he cx~ pressed the.belief that his wound was mortal," he eora~ mended the gallantry of his men, and gave directions for the burial of the dead, the care of the wounded, the removal of captured horses and guns, an& the withdrawal of hi~command from the village. Finally, he requested that, whatever might be his own con. edition, he might not be left behind. Although these directions were given with coolness and clearness, they were~ scarcely completed when he became insen~ sible. Afterwards he revived; he was almost lifeless when, in the afternoon, he was carried from the village. The dead body of Mark Marlin ~vas lifted from the earth and~ borne with tender respect by his comrades to the cabin of his ~'ather, who sat on his desolate ~ hearth beside his wife; and she was a maniac. 808 When Mrs. Fitzhugh heard of the condition of her son she followed the regiment, and taking charge of him, ~he had him carried, from time to time, by short stages to an interior county. There she took ~ cottage, and attended only by her faithful Belle, devoted her~ self to the preservation of his life. page: 306-307[View Page 306-307] ROEBtTCIt. CHAPTER XXIX. WASINGTON. W~ left Julia Fairfax seated in a highway, holding in her lap the head of her deceased uncle. Near her lay his bleeding servant, and the corpses of two Federal soldiers. Beside her stood Mr. IItirt~ Notwithstand~ ing the dangers which he and his family might incur if he should afford assistance to those who had pro.. yoked the vengeance of soldiery in possession of the country, he was prompt to acknowledge t1~e duties of humanity to a woman in affliction, and to the dead and wounded. He addressed her in words of sym~ pathy, and offered her the shelter of his house, and whatever aid he could render. Her delicate frame might have sunk under the load of calamity that had befallen her; but, if she was a woman in the weakness of passion, she could be a woman in the heroism of duty. A sacred duty was still before her. A gush of tears discharged the riatural tribute of affection and grief. Then she rapidly reviewed the circumstances by which she was surrounded, and concluded that it was necessary for her to act promptly according to the advice of her dying uncle. She thanked IMIr. hart for his kind offer of assistance. She explained to him briefly that she was obliged to prosecute her journey without delay. She begged him to .take charge of her uncle's body, and of the wounded Caleb. That faith-. - ful servant assured them that he would not trouble any one long in, this world. When Mr. Hurt had con-. ROflDUOl~. ~lO7 sented to fulfil all the wishes which she expressed, and she had seen Caleb laid on a bed in the horse, she took leave of him with many tears, and, after kiss~ ing the lifeless lips of her dear uncle, she bade fare~ well to Mr. Hart. Sh6 went into the wood to wait for the niore se cure shelter of night. Concealing herself ma ravine, she tied her horse by the bridle to a limb, and sat down upon the grass, leaning against the trunk of a tree. There she remained alone several hours. The sun went down, and the retreating shadows at length sf~ole away upon the approach of night, like faithless friends at the coming of misfortune. Darkness made her solitude more dismal. Hooting owls, and wailing whip-poor-wills, broke, with melancholy voices, the solemn silence of the forest and of night. Her clear sense and natural courage usually saved Julia from imaginary terrors. But her heart, already sorrowful and fearful; felt the depressing influence of the scene. She turned her sleepless arid tearful eyes to Heaven, and prayed to the friend of the friendless, who sees at midnight as at noonday. It was midnight when she found courage to venture upon the highway. The night was friendly to her, and, by riding rapidly, she left this dangerous neighborhood far behind her be- fore the dawn. Afterwards, traveling much at night, she continued her Journey through many difficulties and alarms, but without any~ adventure that ought to detain the reader from more important events, until she arrived within ten miles of Washington city. Then,, as she was riding along a public roud in the forenoon, she saw before her a party of Federal cavalry appvoaching ~t a brisk trot. 126 avoid meeting them, she twned he~' .d page: 308-309[View Page 308-309] 4 IIOEBUCIC. horse and rode back, intending to enter a lane which she had passed, and to wait there until 'the cavalry should go by. When Bhe was about to enter the lane, she heard from behind her the word "halt" In- tending to halt as soon as she turned out of the road, to avoid collision, she went on. She ~had scarcely turned into the lane,~~nd drawn her rei,~n, when a shot was fired, and the bullet struck her horse. He made one bound and then fell. Quivering with momentary agony, he died. The cavalry rode on. - One voice exclaimed-" I guess you'll halt ,time," adding some words of profane rilaldi7. Julia stood by her horse, not injured by *his fall, but ~vercome with a sense of utter desolatAoiL "Poor Arab," sh~ mur- inured, "brave, gentle, faithful Arab, will they let nothing live that! love?" She sat down for a 'few minutes, weeping. But a thought of her father recalled her to the hard path of duty still before her. She rose, and with a lingering look of regret at the bodj of her last companion, set out alone and afoot towards the city. She was not much accustomed to walking, and she had not -trav- eled five miles over the. hard road when she became very weary, and her feet' began to feel sore. Still she walked on, slowly, indeed, and with- frequent pauses, but with perseverance. The sun was setting when she found herself within the suburbs of Washington. She stopped~to rest,. and to consi4kr what was next to be done. She did not know that she had a single friend or acquaintance in the city, except her father. Regarding 'her soiled garments and, ~retclied plight, 'she feared that her appearance would excite the sus- picion of strangers. She imagined that- not only the public offices but the streets were thronged' with avowed enemies of Virginia who, she inferred., would be her enemies if she should make herself known. She thought that in her dusty garb, if she entered a respectable hotel, she would be rejected as a guest, and perhaps expelled with~ insult. Her pro- sent perplexities, more than all the perils of her jour~- ney, made 'her plan for obtaining the release of her father appear to herself impracticable. Still uncer- tain what to do, she started in the dusk of evening, and walked into the city. She went along Penusyb:. vania Avenue, that wide and cheer1e~s thoroughfare. Hundreds of persons met her or passed by her. She did not dare to put aside her veil, or to lift her eyes to their faces. She felt that they were 'all strangers. She imagined that they looked at her with suspicion or enmity~ More and more disheartened, more and more uncertain what to do, she still walked on. At length, in passing a come; she looked: into a oro~s street, thinking that perhaps it might be better for her to turn into it, and so 'avoid the multitude who throi~ged the side-walk of the great Aventt~. By the light of a lamp she saw a negro man sitting on the curb-stone not far from her. Stepping aside into the cross street, where she could see him more distinctly, she looked at him a moment, and then said, in a-loW voice-.---" Dave." lie starte~1 and looked at her. She raised her veil, and by the lamplight he saw her fea- tures. "Miss Julia," he cried, "'fore God, it's Miss Julia." He seized her han4, which she held out to him. He kissed it. He shed tears upon it Then, with true African volubility and incoherence, he poured forth a torrent of mixed and incongruous emotions. Julia tried to check demonstrations which ~began to. attract ~the attention of passengers. She' page: 310-311[View Page 310-311] 310 ROEBUCK. asked Dainty Dave how he was living in Washing- ton. This was asking a renewal of his sorrows, and the ~floodgates of complaint broke loose. It appeared that from the time he left Roebuck-and he was among the first to desert-until that moment, his ex~ perience had been bitter. "0 de fools, de fools us Diggers is~'-was his own comment at several stages of his story. "L's niis'able, Miss Julia, I~ starvin', I aiat got no place to sleep dis night, but dis 'ere pave- ment" - "Why did you leave us, Dave'?" she asked in a compassionate voice. "'Case I was a fool, like de other niggers. Master piled me, I reckon. He was too good to dis 'ere nig~ ger. I thought I was a gwine to be free when I done run away. I hadn't got no sense to see I was fi'~e afore, and master was working' for me as of he was my servant. My blessed old master! All de nigger~ here is mighty had off, Miss Julia, and dere's heaps of 'em. Dey is piled in cellars and places, and kep in dem barracks till dey starves, and gits sickand dies, and sich dirty niggers. I can't stay wid 'em. I .ain't used to it. But dere dey is, men and- women and children, all wretched, mis'able begin's, and nobody keers of dey lives or dies.2' "Poor creatures! What can I do to relieve them! Thit why do I ask? I do not know where to lay my own head to-night '?" "What you (say, Miss Julia ?" Dainty Dave ox- claimed, in astdnishrn~nt, for his ~ttentiom was now, for the first time, turned from his own misery to the condition of his young mistress. "You don't know whar to go ?" "No, Dave, I 'a~n alone, and~stranger in the city. ROnBUoXO 3i1 I have jnst arrived, and I am not willing to go to hotel. I ani in distress, and I do not know a man or woman in all this great town.'~ "Why, whar's your cousin Clara, den? She lives here." "Cousin Glara?" "Mrs. West, you know." Julia - then remembered that the lady whom. he named, a distant relative of her father, had once visited Roebuck. It was when Julia was a child, and she had almost forgotten the lady. She had quite for- gotten that she livedin Washington. But Dave, who was older than his young mistress, remembered the visit of Cousin Clara very well. She had importance in his eyes, not because she came to the country from the capital, but because she was ~kin to de Fair- faxes." Recently he had been inquiring about her, with some intention of claiming kin to keep himself from starving~ Shame ~ad hitherto held him off from her house, but he Nknew where it stood, and had walked by it more than once with longing eyes. When Julia recollected her distant cousin, ana con- sidered that Mrs. West was the only person in the city upon whom she had the slightest claim, she ac- cepted Dave's offer to conduct her to the lady's house. They walked on together, Dave keeping his\ proper place as a servaia, but near enough to her for konver- sation. lie chattered away continually. But little of his diat is worth recording. "No, Miss Julia, freedom ain't for niggers. Dey can't git de hang ofit, and it don't do 'em no good. Free niggers ain't got no friends. Do rule friends of do niggers is de good masters and mistresses what takes keer of 'em. It's do ole Virginny blood. dat's page: 312-313[View Page 312-313] lIO]~BUCK. 812 ROl~BUQK. - de friends of de niggers. Dem's de rule gentlemen and ladies. Dey knows what to d~ wid servants. But dey's gwlne down. Dey's bin gwine down ever sence de Imiversal suffL'age. I kuowed dat would make mischief to de niggers. And now de ole fami- lies is gittin' broke up by de war. Next thing, dey'll have to marry quarter-masters and other low folks what's made money by de war. De good ole blood's a gwine down. What'll become of de poor riiggers ?" While his tongue was running on, they arrived at Mrs. West's house. Julia then divided with Dave her remnant of cash, and telling him to provide for himself that night, and come to see her the next day, she dismissed him. When she entered the house, and made herself kiiown, she was received by Mrs. West with affectionate welcome. The kind lady had a pleasant remembrance of Roebuck, and esteen~ed "Cousin Fred." as he deserved. She had a bright, busy, talkative and cordial manner. With hospitality, she possessed intelligence and tact. Unlike those hosts who bid you make yourself at home, and then leave you to shift tbr yourself most helplessly in a strange house, she could make a guest feel at homer She had heard nothing of Colonel Fairfax's imprison- ment, but when Julia told her all her painful story, she manifested such sympathy and such a warm de- sire to befriend Cousin Fred., she suggested so many plausible expedients for obtaining his discharge, and she offered her assistance with so much apparent hope of success, that to Julia's eager fancy the prison doors seemed already to turn on their hinges for her father's release. Grateful and hopeful , she laid her head upon her pillow to dream of her father's happy restoration to his family. The next mc~rning she was up ea$y, impatient for the hour wheti, accompanied' by Mrs. West, she was to start in search of l~r Lather. They were te take the round of many prisons, and, without a clue, to took for him among an immense number of prisoners then confined in the city. He had been there so short a time, and was so completely unknown to all those who had ~harge of the prisons, that they could scarcely expect to find him until they should happen upon the very room in which he ivas confined. After break- fast, they sallied forth upon their quest. Although they traversed the magnificent distances of the city in a carriages they had walking enough in visiting the various places at which they called, With climbing stairs, and standing, while they awaited the leisuize of' those to whom they made application, to fatigue even the active Mrs. West. Many persons of whom they inquired, knew nothing of Colonel Fairfax; others declined to answer any questions. By some they Were treated with politeness, and by others rudely re- buffed. They were very weary and Julia was much disheartened, when, late in the day, they were told that a prisoner from Virginia, answering to the de- scription which they gave of Colonel F'airfax, was con- fined in a room before which they wei'e then stand~ ing. But it was too late to obtain admittance to the prisoners that day; the person who had the custody of Colonel Fairfax was not present; nothing niore could be learned by Julia about her father, ~not even about his health. ~She went away, feeling disappoint- Inent and anxiety almost as painful as if she had not discovered the place &f his imprisonment. The next day the ladies returned. The custodian of Colonel Fairfax then informed them that they 14 I page: 314-315[View Page 314-315] ROflh3UCJ~. ROEI3UOK. 315 could not be admI~tted to' see him without a special or- der from higher authority. As to the prisoner's health, he' did not know much, except that "he* seemed to' be pretty bad," but 'he referred them to the surgeOn. Inquiring where the 'surgeon was to be found, and receiving a very vague direction, they started in search of that officer. Besides the anxiety of Julia to ascertain her father's true condition ~after receiving the uncertain hut alarming information which she had ju~t heai~d, Mrs. West suggested 'a certificate fi~om the surgeon might promote the suc- c~ss of their application to be admitted into the pri~on. But it was several hours before they found the surgeon. * He replied to their inquiries with civility, and when he knew that Julia was the daughter of the prisoner, he looked at her with compassion, for he was a man of gi'eat benevolence. In tenderness to hemp he soft- ened the report which he gave of her father's condi- tion as much as truth permitted, and he soothed her with general expressions of hope. But, by the use of a little dexterity, he contrived to inform Mrs. West, aside, that Colonel Fairfax could not live many. days,. if he remained in prison. At her request, he slipped into her hand' a 'certificate to that effect. 'This was an artifice of~ kindness to' save the daughter from dis- tress which, a~ they feared, might overcome her, but Mrs. West afterwards discovered that Julia had in- ferred from the cautious conversation of the surgeon the actual danger to her father's life. Reserve could no longer be useful, and the certificate was shown to her soon after they parted with the surgeon. They then endeavored to procure the necessary oi'der for admittance into the prison, but official hours were over, and another day closed with disappointment. Such delays would have been painful under any oh'- cnmstances, but, with the knowledge which they had acquired, Julia spent the following nigh~Nn an- guish. Wearisome to the ladies, and worse than wearisome to the prisoner's daughter, were the next few days; for so long was it before Julia obtained permission to see hei father. Those who have had experience iwpr~ssing an application, however trivial and unob- jectionable, though official routine, can understand how a whole day may be spent without any progress in such affairs. When the applicants were' women, seeking favor for a rebel from the servants of the of- fended government, it may be imagined that delay~ and obstacles were multiplied. But Mrs. West was hever disheartened. She 'had been ~through such trials of patience before. She was one of those women who habitually assuaged the miseries of the war by charities to the unfortunate. To relieve them, she had passed through scenes which were often 'repulsive, and sometimes revolting to a lady. 'With officials, her gentle importunity, now pathetic and then laughing, would not be denied. Besides, she had acquired much knowledge of the secret springs of influence at 'Washington. Finally, with the use of the surgeon'8 certificate, and of her own energy and adroitne~s, she succeeded in procuring, not only permission 'for Julia to Visit her father in prison, but an order for his dis- charge. Tie was to be set free, however, only upon condition that he would first take an oath of allegiance to the Federal. government in a prescribed form. 4.- A" page: 316-317[View Page 316-317] ROEBU CE:. 81T 818 flQEBiYOi~. CHAPTER XXX. P~II~DEUICK FAIT~FAX. JuuA went to the prison. Her step had lost the elastic lightness of youth, health and happiness. She Walked with The nervous celerity of painful excite-, ment. The bloom had faded from her cheeks. Above their pallor, her eyes gleamed with unnatural' lustre. In her fluttering pulse, suffering and heart-sickness had extinguished the energy of hope and high re~ solve. But despair was still kept at bay by the ex~ pectation of seeing her father, and relieving him by filial ministrations. She I~ound him in a small room-a mere cell. It was gloomy, having only one window, a little grated opening. He lay on the floor, with no bed, but some wisps of dirty, broken~ straw. The close, corrupted air almost stifled Julia as she entered. The cell con- tained several prisoners besides her father. They might have been long there, for their faces had the dead whiteness and sullen indifference which come of long imprisonment. They let the spider weave his web over their' narrow window without raising a hand to brush it away. Colonel Fairfax was looking round upon them, and, as Julia entered the door, she . heard him faintly utter the words "poor fellows 1" When, by the dusky light, admitted through dirty panes, she saw' him lying on the floor, none but a daughter would have recognized hi~ form and features. his. woundj~is frightfQl journey to the Federal capital, imprisonment, suffering, gi'ief had. conquered his manly frame. His eyes were sunken; his cheeks were hollow and haggard;, his beard was long and white; his grey hair was matted, his form was ema~ cited and distorted with pain; his. garments were soiled by the filth in Which he lay. In all this squalid wretchedness? nothing could be seen which seemed properly to belong to that no gentleman but the benignity of his countenance as he looked round. ~upon his fellow-prisoners. His daughter hastened to his side, and sobbing, "my father, my father," she knelt down and kissed him again and again. fler tears trickled in showers upon his face., Laying her cheek to his, she wept in speechless agony. "Julia, my sweet child," he whis- pered, "do not give way to despair. God is mer- ciful. We are in his hands." She could:an~wer only with tears. She had come to comfort him, but the first sight of him had dissolved her firmness. She re~ covered her voice only to cry out, "0 God! 0 God! can such goodness be doomed to such misery? my father, my father!" His eyes filled~ with tears, and, for a time, he could not speak. At length her parox- ysm of uncontrollable grief was past. She recalled to mind the duty which she had come to discharge. She sat upon the floor; an~ wiped her eyes. Bttt her lip still quivered, and she feared to make an effort to speak, lest her self-control should abandon her again. "Speak to me, my daughter. Tell me of your mother. My beloved wife!", "Yes, papa; she is with, kind friends. Her great trouble is for you." "My wife, my wife, my wife 1". "When she knows that you are-are safe, she will be' comforted.'~ SIT page: 318-319[View Page 318-319] 018 ROEI3UCK. ROEBUCK. 819 "May God comfort her." "When she sees you again she will be happy.." "Ah, me! My unhappy wife !" "We shall be happy yet, papa." "Yes-hereafter," he said, looking upward. "At home, dear papa. Yes, in Heaven." "You must recover your health.. We shall go to mother. Then love will make us 'all happy." "Do not delude yourself, my daughter. We~ must irow~look for happiness beyond this world. My gentle Mary!' My wife, my wife, my wife " "Listen to me, my dear papa. I have an order for. your'ielease from imprisonment." ." Can this 'be true, Julia ~ Then 'I may 'live to see 'my Mary" He uttered these words with more vigor than he had. displayed since his daughter entered the room. His face was suddenly lighted with flash of joy.' He laid his thin band on Julia's waist, and feebly press- "ing her 'to 'him, 'he kissed. he' fondly. The new-born hope -of freedom and of household endearments was very '~w~et. The calm of resignation, 'which had be. iore succeeded the exthiotiou of hope, was ruined. 'For a 'few moment 'he cherished 'his joy in silence. 'His imagination 'flew to her whom' be had loved so long, so wisely and 'so well. The image of his daugh- ter went with him to the side of his wife, and his love revelled in ~iomestio bliss~ 4ulia saw this happiness in his face, and she feai~d to 'dash' it by 'an allusion to tho condition upon whieh he was to be released. She was silent until he spoke. "Why, the4 'my 1~rling, ~do we remain here Inig@rt" 'be~whlspered:at last. - "Are you able to go ?" she asked, with compassion- ate evasion. "Yes, yes; let me be carried, away. I must see my wife. I have not long to live. I'm t see may wife once more. Why do you look trouble daua'hter? I can bear the pain of removal. Let us :go." "0, my dear papa, I must tell you. The order is that you xnust take the oath of allegiance to the Fede- ral' government before you will be released." He gazed at her a little while, as if he did not fully comprehend the import of her words. 'Then his eyes closed. His pallid cheeks gradually 'became livid. His lips moved but uttered no sound. His fingers grasped the straw nervously. Julia trembled with alarm. She feared that~The last 'shock 'had killed her father. She almost shrieked; but she held her heart to its terrible task. She was still to sustain 'and com- fort her ~father. Bending over him, she kisses his brow, and whispered, "Papa, speak to me. Speak to your Julia:" He opened his eyes and ihurmured a blessing upon his devoted child. She held. his hand and softly pressed it, but again her emotion was swell-. ing so high that she could not trust 'herself to utter a word. After a long pause, whjch seemed like' death he looked up and said, "I am resigned, Julia. God~s will be done." He relapsed into 'silence, although his lips moved as if he repeated to himself what was pass- ing in his mind. "I cannot, my daughter," at length. he said, "while Virginia remains~ distinct from the Federal government,-4 cannot take that oath. My allegiance i~ due to my 'State. I will not abjure her in ber dire extremity. 'I will 'not betray the' cause of. my fellow citizens who daily march to death. Let me die with /1 page: 320-321[View Page 320-321] / * ~2O~ ROEBUCK. them. Let me die for Virginia. I can die, Julia, even thus-my wife-my daughter-even thus I can bear to die, but I cannot take a false oath. Death has power over my. body only; pe~fidy would taint my * '"They say, papa, that such oaths, when taken under compulsion "- "Tempt me not, my daughter. Tempt not a frail old man. The struggle has( already wrung my heart. It has ni~arly put out this flickering life. I might not be able to resist the persuasion of my beloved, my unhappy da~ighter. 0, spare your father'." His imploring anguish alni~ost bereft her of all con~ trol over her passion. He elasped one of her hands between both his own on his breast. She laid her other hand on his forehead. Alternately he lifted his eyes to Heaven in mute stipplication, or fixed them upon the face of his daughter with an expressioti of tender, yearning, unspeakable love. "Be not too much c~ast down by our misfortunes," he said, when he spoke again, "do not give way to despair; The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away. Blessed be the name ef the Lord. May he protect you and your mother wheii I am gone." After a brief pause he continued-" do not let your heart be corroded with resentment against our enemies. They are mortals like ourselves, and they are blinded by the passions of war Let us forgive as we hope to be forgiven." Again he lay, apparently. engaged with thoughts which his waning strength did not enable him to utter. It was manifest th~at he was sinking. But he rallied a little and again addressed his daughter: "Julia, I loved the Union. . I would have given my IIOEBUCX. 821 life to save it. lint it is gone. However this war may end, the Union which I loved is gone forex~r. The free Union of sovereign States can never be re- stored, though the South may be subjugated. If o~ir States should be conquered I trust that the spirit of our people will not be debased. The hope of liberty never dies while the manhood of the people survives. Liberty may be destroyed in one form, like this body, and yet live on like the soul. God grant that the freedom of our country may endure forever." Julia, believing that when her father ceased to speak, his mind was occupied with meditations which she ought ~iot to interrupt, waited in silence for him to speak to her again. But what. she next ~eard was not addressed, to her. He was repeating- "There the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest. There the prisoners rest together; they hear not the voice of the oppressor." When he next addressed her it was to ask if she had lately seen Hugh. She replied that she had, and that he wa~ well. "Give him my blessing, Julia~ He is worthy 6f you. You will be a good wife. He wilt be a son to your mother." These words were uttered with extreme difficulty. Afterwards he was silent, but restless. Sometimes the s~igle word "wife" or "daugbter" murmured from his lips. The changes that came over his face foreboded the near approach of the last change of all. Julia saw that the end was at hand. She sat mbtion- less, gazi a' upo:i him and waiting for the dread event. At last a p id calm settled upon his features. His lips moved-' heavenly Father "-though his lips 14* page: 322-323[View Page 322-323] ROnBUCIr. continued to move, no more of the last prayer of. the good man was heard on earth. When Julia saw that he was dead she did not shed a ~tear. She uttered not, a word nor a sigh, She placed his head h~ her lap and kissed his lips, as she might have kissed him in his sleep. She gave no outward sign of sorrow; her sorrow was unutterable. Thus she sat, when a gruff voice notified her that the time had come for her to. retire. -She raised her tear~ less eyes to the man and' said, in a low voice, "my father i~ dead; let me st~y with him." The man re~ plied, not with particular rudeness, but according to the habit of his place, "it is against orders; you must go." She.quietlyiiftedthat venerable head from her lap and laid it on the straw. ~he kissed the cold lips once more, and then she rose tip and walked away without a tear or a sigh. Slie was benumbed with despair. lit was not until hours afterwards, it was at mid. night in the solitude of her chamber, that the icy rigor of despair melted into overflowing griefs The next morning she was unable to rise from her bed. Mrs. West went out and made application for the body of Colonel Fairfax, in order that he might have the cust6ma'ry rights of sepulchre. Her applied~ * tion was refused. He was buried among strangers. Those who loved him cannot weep over the unknown grave of Frederick Fairfax. t ROEl~tTCI~. A 3%23 CHAJTEr~ xxxi. TIlE END. IN a few days Julia was able to travel. Thouo.h feeble in body and bruised in spirit, she would not rest longer from the sad duties that remained for ~ She must return to her mother. She must icturn without her father. She must bear tidings of his death to his ~..heart..broken wife. She must console her whtowed mother, or, as appeared more probable, smooth her path to the grave. On such melancholy duties the unhappy but unselfish girl bent her pious thoughts. At that time the Federal authorities were permitting all women and children to go into the Confederacy, and were sending thither some of them who would have preferred to remain at their homes within the Fedei4il lines. Without difficulty, therefore, Mrs. West procured a passport for Julia to go t~ Richmond, and took passage for her upon a steamboat, which, under a flag of truce, landed passengers within a few miles of the Confederate capital. Thus was she trans.. ported, with her burden of SOlTOW, to her afflicted but still beloved State. At Richmond she heard that Hugh Fitzhugh had been dangerously wounded, and that ~e was lying very low in the county to which he had been taken by his / mother. Sorrows thickened about her at every step. That passionate love which, in young hearts, rules with exclusive dominion, would have carried her to the side of her wounded lover. She felt all the ten- page: 324-325[View Page 324-325] Nd ROEBUCK. ROEBIJ CIt. der tyranny of that paSSlOfl. But her love for her mother, cherished from her birth, had. b~en through life associated with a sentiment of duty. It was now consecrated by domestic a~.ction. Duty was not doubtful, and Julia hastened to her mother. Mrs. Fairfax, during her daughter's absence, con- tinued to decline in health and strength. When Julia entered her apartment she raised herself with sudden and unusual energy in her bed. She stretched out her arms to embrace her daughter. While they clasped each other she cried, "your flither, Julia, have you seen your father ~" "Yes, dearest mamma?, I have semi him." "Has he come with youV' "0, mamma, mamma, h~has not come. He can- not-he will not-O dear, dear mamma, he will never come.'~ Mrs. Fairfax silently sunk down upon the bed. Julia laid her head on the pillow beside her mother's, endeavoring to comfort her with nestling fondness. The widow uttered no loud lamentation. A few sobs and broken sentences expressed her agony. A few great tears trickled over her temples. She closed her eyes to shut out the world,. whivh f r her had lost its light. She lay bleeding irtwardly. The tenure of her life was broken. Thenceforth she faded away. In long hours of silence', by day and by night, the hope of being united once more and. forever with her husband in a better world, occupied her mind. Her daughter was always with, her, denying herself almost entirely the repose which she so much needed. Her sweet, untiring, patient love soothed the wounds of the heart which no earthly hand could heal. Sometimes ~he allured her~ * mother into Conversation, and they talked of by-gone days, or of those who wei'e most dear to them, or of whatever subject had interest enough for ~fme widow to withdraw her attention from fatal grie~ Whether in conVersation or in m~itation, religion was always present to the thoughts of both, for both were sin- cerely pious, and death, then familiar alike to memory and to expectation, brought religion constantly before them as the light, of the grave. Mrs. Fairfax was sometimes visited by the Reverend Mr. Amble', who had left the village with Fitzhugh's regiment when the Federals were driven out, and he was now sojourn- ing a few miles from~ the house in which she was a guest. From him she received those counsels and consolations which it w~ms his office to bestow, and all that tender sympathy which the calamities of his dear- est friends excited in the bosom of this venerable man. When they conversed, as sometimes they, must, of the terrible misfortunes which had befallen their country as well as themselves, and the soul of Mrs. Fairfax was steeped in sorrow, he presented the only solace which remained for such misfortunes. Often she desired her daughter to sing, and her musi- cal voice seemed to alleviate the widow's grief.. It was a severe trial of Julia's fortitude to control her own agitation and modulate her voice to music, especially when her mother asked her to sing such hymns as this: HYMN. r~We oryr to thee, 0 Father of the f~mther1ess, Out of the depths, 0 Friend of the forlorn: Among their dead the living call in dire distress, The orphans Wail, the widowed mothers mourn. 824 page: 326-327[View Page 326-327] 4 ROEBUCK. The earth is darkened and the hea'~'ns are as ~rt paIl; In st~irless gloom we pray to Thee for light: Out of the depths, while sorrow overshadows all, We call to Thee, 0 Father; all is night. To prayer thine ear jg ever open as the si~y- Tocries of woe or secret sighs of care: 411 tears are known to Rim who deigned on earth to die; Through Him, his tears and blood, 0 hear our prayer. Let there be light where crime and fear and anguish fill With darkness all the circle of our sun: But it' for sin our stricken hearts must suffer still, Thy name be hallowed and Thy will be done. 'When Mrs. Fairfax became certain that she was about to die she was not only resigned, but was almost cheerful. Finally she fell into the sleep that knows no waking, as gently as a babe faIls asleep i~ a mothei~s arms. .Iulia, after fulfilling her last filial dnty, accepted an invitation from Mrs. Fitzhu~gh to .visit that lady at the cottage which she then occupied 'with her son. Be- fore leaving the county, a natural feeling induced 3ulia to visit Roebuck, which she had not seelf SinCO she was driven from the house by fire, and snatched from her parents by violelice. She found a~scene of desolation where, according to her fond recollection, ~ she had known a paradise. The grounds in which childhood had played were strewn with fragments of their former decorations. The garden which she had left in blooming beauty ~#as covered with a mat of trampled stems. Here and there scanty patches of corn were lazily cultivated by the negroes who remained, but over wide fields the Wheat, unhar- ROEDUOK. - 27 vested, was left to rot, and the eorn was overgrown~ with weeds. Fences were destroyed, t~arne were burnt, fruit-trees were out down. I3lackaned, roofless walls were all that remained of the, elegant mansion in which a happy family had lived so long, in the unity of love, and in the .~raotico of every domestic, every social virtue. There, whatever is admirable in refinement~ was familiar as a household habit. There, a generous hospitality, and more generous charity, were dispensed as duly as the prayer for daily bread was repeated at morning and evening. When Julia stood alone, a soUtary orphan, on the marble steps which had been trodden by ~6 many entering and de~ parting guests, she looked through4 the opening, in which the hospitable door had stood, and saw nothing but ashes. The scenes of happiness within those w~ills which her memory ~o~v recalled, served only to deepen her sense of desolation. But most sorrowful of all associations with the scene, were the recent suf. (cringe and.death of her father and mother, and of a~ nncl~ whom she had loved almost as dearly as ~he loved her parents. As she stood among the ruins, of her home, and west over the. calamities of her family, vividly remembering the dreadful scenes through which she had passed, and looldn~ forward to a dark fatui'e, a feeling overcame herr not unlike the despair- ing senti~ient of the Preach~r :-" So X returned and considered all the oppressions that are done under~the sun; and beheld the tears of such as were oppressed, and they had no comforter; and on tha side of their oppressors there was power; but' they had no coni~ foi'ter. Wherefore, I praised the dead which are ab ready dead, more thian the living which a~ yet ajivo. page: 328-329[View Page 328-329] 328 ROflI3UCK. been, who hath not seen the ~vil work that is done under the sun." ThWfhe soul of Julia Fairfax could n'ot long d'~v~elI in the degradation of despair. She could not long cherish a vindictive feeling. The most unhappy life could not appear worthless to one who valued llf~ for the power of doing good. in misfortune her tender heart yielded the. tribute which nature demands, but then, without tepining, and without resentment, she turned with firm, though gentle resolution, t~ the du.. ties which misfortune imposes. After this visit to Roebuck, she took leave of the kind friends wh& had giVen shelter to her- mother, and went to the humble cottage of Mrs. Fitzhugh. The old lady received her with ~notherly affection. Hugh had passed the crisis of danger, and wa~ slowly recovering~ Yet it was not deemed ~certain that his former strength would ever be rest~red. ,When he was first brought to the cot~ tage, overy~ one who saw him, except his mother, ex- pected him to die from hour to hour. But the brave and proud woman would not believe that her gallant eon was to die. Disdaining to yield to her own in-' firmity, sh~ nursed him with unremitting~caro. Others often would have relieved her of this duty, but she re- garded herself as a sentinel between life and death for her son, and she would not desert her post. When Julia arrived, he was still feeble, bu~ he was out '&f danger. His love was a~ balm to her heart. * Consoling and - consoled, she felt the power of mutual love to sweeten sorrow. He desired that their marriage should take place without delay. Whatever objections ~he urged, he derived arguments so f~i'cible from the cireum- 1. ROEBUCK. 329 stances in which they Were placed, that;, in a short time, with her coy consent, he sent for the Reverend Mr. Ambler, and JULIA FAIRI1'A~ became the bride of. llum FITZnUGH. 1~'INIS~ I
