T* t^w jfi* IV DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Treasure %oom 1 THE ETHEL CARR PEA(M~| f PtKADlNG R< w.4046 OOM ir PAKTISAN LEADEK: A N V E JL AND AN APOCALYPSE OF THE ORIGIN AND STRUGGLES SOUTHERN > RACY, By Judge BEVERLJ OF VIRGINIA. PRTGLNALI ISHED I NOW RE-PUBLISHED: AND EDITED BY REV. THOS. A. WARE. RICHMOND: WEST A JOHNSON, 145 MAIN ST 1862. * / 71 frjT; ft 13 T 1 - f USTTKOIDXJCTIOlSr. It is said of Mr. Burke that he could take a survey of the political sky and tell the destiny of nations for twenty years to come. Judge TUCKER has literally done this, as far as the American people are con- cerned, as will be found strikingly illustrated in the work before us. Written and published in 1836, but bearing in its imprint the date of 1856, and intended as a tale of the future, applying to the intervening period, it has substantially foretold the great leading features oS the history of the twenty-five years intervening between the time of its first publication, and this eventful era, at which it is again given to the public. In following the history of the hero through the strange vicissitudes of love, and Avar, and wild adventure — glowing now with the roseate tinge of sentiment, and, anon, with the fiery hue of tragedy, the reader will be amazed to sec the incidental mention of the great historical facts which have, in the last eighteen months, marked the disintegration of a vast republic, and the organization and struggles of a new one. The secession of the more Southern States — the formation of the "South- ern Confederacy" — the hesitation of Virginia — the arguments which fifteen months ago resounded, from the Chesapeake to*the Ohio in fa- vour of her seceding and "accepting the invitation to join the South- ern Confederacy" — the "pretext*' on which the Northern army *m.s- raised; "the apprehension of hostilities from the Southern Confedera- cy" — the Avar — the effects of the blockade, even to its influence upon the article of Odmtnon salt, etc., etc., seem as familiar to the pen of the great political seer, as if he had actually been a participant " in the great struggle" which he writes, " I witnessed and partook." The reader Avill realize, perhaps, more amusement, though 1 wonder, to see as thorough appreciation'of Yankee character, as well in small things and in great, as the lights and shadows of twenty-five ad- ditional years of peace and war afford. "He surely had read some of McCiollan's reports," was the playful remark of an intelligent friend, as we read the account of Col. Trevor's defeat, and his official report, which "lies like truth, and yet most truly 1 Indeed, so marvellously does the bonk apply to recent and current events, thai sometimes sketching its striking passages, with those who were n«>t reader-- contemporaneous with its firs! circulation, they have tioally, i ]ikr mi clii 1 ;. by an unpleasant association sort of Thomas l . and blaok-lettered, artifi- t.i ini] oso "ii i In- literary world. will bail i 4 as an <>\<\ friend, whose ecoentrieitiea "in 1 '' •t. hail withdi I himself, that when by experience, they dis- than tlnir wisdom/' comes not promptfy, •!..ir perplexity they call for him, hut wait-; for the darkest hour,' in the benign ami venerable aspect of a pro] of how these things most needs he." ami in dotation speaking words of cheer, and heralding a bright a Dumber <>f years unknown who '• Bdwajd "William Sid- i ; id 1, that the public, has remained in donbt t<> ■ very re* I, if hour, will appear from the following quota- tion from the South i June 1861. Tho edi- tor, in) a ii"tice of the " Partisan Leader/! as recently rc-pub- rth, taken from the Baltimore Exchange, Bays: "We • ii credit to the novel in ques- f Judge Upshur, of Virginia, who was killed by the i • ." but we believe the Baltimore Exchange ii attributing it t<> Judge Beverley Tucker of Virginia." It will be, th< . itifying to see this question sit fully at rest, as it . in tin- following communication kindly fur- rnor Montague, of Virginia: Richmohd, July 6th, i - th ult.. asking im> to -/w e j on p of a bonk cmllecl •■ The Partisan I I W illiamsbuTg. was the author It cm I him declare lie- wxote the I >. •< hia olasa for w li:iti-\ er sins nr !"•!' i -r heard him sefer to the subject. At- [ have i rVen heard him k nl Richmond. INTRODUCTION. V say that those who worn then deriding him, and denouncing his book as a treasonable production would live to see the day when they would acknow- ledge that his appreciation of the Yankee character was Correct j and lamenl in tears and blood that his views were not Booriet adopted by the South. It was written by its great author to open tli*- eyes of Virginia and tin- South to the dangers which lie so cleariy saw just ahead, and which we all have so keenly felt. Well, well, would it have been cduld all have seen as he did. I am glad to hear yon design its re-publication. It is a master's work, and I have no doubt, lint that, even now, it< re-publication will be productive 0$ Wishing you success in your enterprise) I am hastily, but very truly vmis. RO. L. .MONTAGUE. Sir Walter Scott was observed by a friend to be noting the kind of grafts, flowers, and moss which grew about a great rock, and a cave, where be proposed to lay the scene of one of his novels. " Why do you that?" said the friend, "will not the daises and litch- en do as well T' "No," said the great word-painter, "soon your stock of litchen and daises would be exhausted, and you must become monotonous; but ad- here to nature, and you will have the variety of nature." Not less scfupulotfrd} 7 faithful to nature has our author been. Learn- ing that the principal scene of the story was laid in Patrick county, Va., I determined to make a pilgrimage to the.now classic region of "the Devil's Backbone." On arriving at the court-house, I was in- formed that just such a locality as that described, formerly known by that name, but now more familiarly known as "Witt's Spurr," was to be found in that wildest of mountain ranges, which rises in rugged gran- deur six miles west of the village. I also learned, through the cour- tesy of that accomplished gentleman, Hon. W. R. Staples, of the Con- federate ( longress, that in 1820 or 25, Judge Tucker paid a visit to that region, and in company with his father, a soldier friend in the war of 1812, spent a day rambling over the mountains; and further, that "Witt" was a rral character, and was probably now to be found some- win r< in.; distant from the scene where the author first introduces him. Veering southward on the North Carolina road, first of all to search out this old hero, at a distance of about three miles from the Courtdmiw, I rode np to an h arable dwelling' on the left, without thought of*else than enquiring the way, when an old woman, so large, so out-spoken and ha . reported herself in response to the call, and gave the i directions, that it occurred at onoe to my mind, this would be ■a worthy help in. . I of that "large; powerful man, of untaught wisdom, Christian Witt." Tin following colloquy occurred : " Who lives here, madam ''" " Saunders Witt," with an independent air that bespoke pride of the name and place, IN . , '•• •' i many kinfolks of his name. II ap tin- lane there, and you can talk with I like it." When in n spouse to my call he i. with scarcely the Bhade of a doubt, graphic picture; and waa Bure that the "Christian" . tin- author only because he had forgotten his ek . '. introducing myself, after an interchange of enquiries) which fairl) opened the way, said : " Arc you relal I Mr. "Witt who onoe lived at !he place . I harlea Davis, just at the foot of the 'DeviFa Back- •• I • ->." •• Do yon remember anything of Judge Beverley Tucker paying a le thirty or forty years ago, and going up to look at these mountain- § " Wl •• Adjutant Tucker. I knowed him in the war of tw< '' iving then at my father's, ;md he come up there id look at the mountains; and my father went up with him. 1 said to him, 'why Adjutant Tucker, how do yon' lid 'what, do you know me?' ' \ 1. 'did'nt real the head of the rigiment every evening And then he laughed." "What kind of looking man was he, Mr. Wif "Well, sir, be waa aboul five feel ten inches high, slim and Btraight, had lighl hair and Ughl eyes, and looked as keen as a night-hawk, sir." • : many familiar with the author, it appears that riptioc of the mountaineer, though more elegant, was scarcely Heir.- graphic or comprehensive. Curious to know whether the latter would recognize his own picture, and thai of bis fath< r'a house and it- romantic approaches and surround- adorse the sentiments attributed to him twenty-five lie would avow in the midst of the Btjrring Boenea in which be i | to act no unimportant part, I continued : " What v • think, Mr. Witt, if 1 were to tell you that this same Adjutant' Tucker, somo ten years after his visit her., ami twenty* five years ago, . in which he foretold all the rents '" our 1. giving him an .inline of the hook, as I'ur- 1 in the beginning of this article. •• Well, Mr. I should think it relit Btrnnjre. but miwtb and scenery remarked vertebra in the " Devils Back- ■ in the 1 I it required do fertile f cover! -■ iitint'l. the stand of the "The Partisan Leader" — marked aa th its difficult approa and . •• pouring ov< c rugged barriers of yellow sn He." r will observe that I have avoided the mention of the mere '(.litir.il features of the story, such as the person, and tune of lection, by a sectional vote, caused the the date of the occurrences, and such like, which, tot! features that have been so strikingly realized,.are to the picture, and have sought Bimply to give him, at a insight into the oharacter of die hunk, ami to actualize some - minor circumstan< lery and oharacter. A word of] personal explanation, and I am dune. My attention I the notice aUuded t", in the Literary Met- twelve months sinoe, I bad felt the intensest curiosity to I oompire it with the momentous events of the present erisis, . found my inquiries vain during that period, and had despaired my object A few weeks since, however, in the regular f duty, by a happy accident I blundered upon it. Amazed, and gratified in finding it a greater lib ran curiosity than 1 had even supposed, it immediately occurred t<> me that thousands must realise a similar h th mjself in its perusuaTj and that while its repub- lue alike to the fame of its author and to historical! pro- priety, it- general circulation would tend to illlustrate the necessity of oar position, to vindicate the justice of our cause, and to intensify " in rn patriotism. Astonished that it had not been republished, 1 determined that if others would m>t undertake the w irk, with theap- ral of those who have the first right to represent the author and his interests, I would myself angaee in the enterprise. Deferring as far aide to tli. se, I wsa assured that they were desirous of its rc- publication, and bad once made arrangements lor it; but owing to the fall of Norfolk the work had been estopped in that direction, ami that I bould feel free to go forward with it 1'leased that I am dtti d, iii i' manner conaonani with the proprietjet of the ceuey thus I numbly oonoeive, at once to the public gratification ami tin publi I oommit the great work, in its original form, to lioation, trusting to the intelligence of the reader to apply tin coincidi nee.- which mark it.-^ fullilhuent as a political prophecy. TIKIS A. WAKK THE PARTISAN LEADER. CHAPTER I And whomsoever, along the path you meet, Bears in his cap the badge of crimson hue, Which tells you whom to shun and whom to greet. Byron. Toward the latter end of the month of October, 1849, about the hour of noon, a horseman was seen ascending a narrow valley at the eastern foot of the Blue Ridge. His road nearly followed the course of a small stream, which, issuing from a deep gorge of the mountain, winds its way between lofty hills, and terminates its brief and brawling course in one of the larger tributaries of the Dan. A glance of the eye took in the whole of the little settlement that lined its banks, and mea- sured the resources of its inhabitants. The different tenements were so near to each other as to allow but a small patch of arable land to each. 01 manufactures there was no appearance, save only a rude shed at the entrance of the valley, ou the door of which the oft-repeated brand of the horse shoe gave token of a smithy. There, too, the rivu- let, increased by the innumerable springs which afforded to every habi- tation the unappreciated, but inappreciable luxury of water, cold, clear and sparkling, had gathered strength enough to turn a tiny mill. Of trade there could be none. The bleak and rugged barrier, which closed the scene on the west, and the narrow road, fading to a foot- path, gave assurance to the traveller that he had here reached the nc phi* ultra of social life in that direction. Indeed, the appearance of discomfort and poverty in every dwelling well accorded with the scanty territory belonging to each. The walls and chimneys of unhewn lugs, the roofs of loose boards laid on long rib-poles, that projected from the gables, and held down by similar poles placed above them, together with the smoked and sooty appear- ance of the whole, betokened an abundance of timber, but a dearth of TIIK PARTI8AH LKADKK. Contiguous t" each w.i~ i sort of rude garden, Jo- in tin* ruder language of thfl country, a "truck patch." pari of which had produced a OTOp of oats, while ob tin- remainder the [ndian corn still hung on the stalk, waitii Ldd to this a small meadow, anil the I will h. . ; j > t i v c of each of the bttle f.irim which, lor the distance of three miles, bordered the Btraam. *hu- bore the marks of a crowded popula tion, a deep still) raded it. The visible signs of life were few \ solitary youngster, male or female, loitering about every door. These, is the traveller passed along, would skulk from observation, and then Bteal out, and, . indulge their curiosity, at sife distances, by looking alter him. At length he heard a Bound of voices, and then a shrill whistle, and .-till. Immediately, some half a dozen men, leaping a fence, I themselves across the road and laced him. He observed that each, as In- touehed the ground, lai I hold of a rifle that leaned against ire, and this circumstance drew his attention to twenty or mure e formidable weapons, ranged along in the same position. The fir.-t impulse of tin- travel!' r wa- to draw B pistol; but seeing that the ;ted their guns upon the ground and d them, he quietly withdrew his hand from his holster. It was plain that no violence wai intended, and that thi< movement was nothing but a 11 I rccaution, such as the unsettled condition oi intT lie therefore advanced steadily but slowly, and, n ; the party, reim d in his horse and Bilently invited the in- i parli y. Tb- men, though somewhat variously attired, wero all chiefly clad in balf- i bock-skin. Thej seemed to have been engaged in gathering corn iii the adjoining Bold. Their companions, who .-till continued the sa eroUS enough (including women and boys, of both of whieh there was a fuB proportion,) to have secured the 'little crop in i lew hours. Indeed, it would seem that the whole working "i> of til rhood, both male and female, was assembled ler drew up his horse, one of the men, speaking in a low an •• \\ e want a word with you, .stranger, before " As man; i plied the other, " tar I am tired and ; and I am glad to find some one, at last, of whom I may bops to purchase souiething for both of u.s to eat." THE PARTISAN LEADER. A " That you can have quite handy," said the countryman ; " for we have been gathering corn, and were just going to our dinner. If you will only just 'light, sir, one of the boys can feed your horse, and you can take such as we have got to give you." The invitation was accepted ; the horse was taken in charge by a long-legged lad of fifteen, without hat or shoes, and the whole party crossed the fence together. At the moment, a man was seen advancing toward them, who, ob- serving their approach, fell back a few steps, and threw himself on the ground at the foot of a large old apple-tree. Around this were clus- tered a motley group of men, women and boys, who opened and made way for the stranger. He advanced, and bowing gracefully, took off his forage cap, from beneath which a quantity of soft, curling flaxen hair fell over his brow and cheeks. Every eye was now fixed on him, with an expression rather of interest than mere curiosity. Every coun- tenance was serious and composed, and all wore an air of business, ex- cept that a slight titter was heard among the girls, who, hovering be- hind the backs of their mothers, peeped through the crowd to get a look at the handsumc stranger. lie was indeed a handsome youth, about twenty years of age, whose fair complexion and regular features made him seem yet younger. He wastall, slightly but elegantly formed, with a countenance in which soft- ness and spirit were happily blended. His dress was plain and cheap, though not unfashionable. A short grey coat, waistcoat and pantaloons, that neatly fitted and set off his handsome person, showed by the quality of the cloth that his means were limited, or that he had too much sense to waste in foppery that which might be better expended in the ser- vice of his suffering country. But, even in this plain dress, he was ap- parelled like a king in comparison with the rustics that surrounded him ; and'his whole air would have passed him for a gentleman in any ili ■( £S and any company where the constituents of that character are rightly understood. In the present assembly there seemed to be none, indeed, who could be supposed to have had much experience in that line. Bat dignity fa felt, and courtesy appreciated by all, and the expression of frankness and truth is everywhere understood. A- die youth approached, the man at the foot of the tree arose and returned the .salutation, which seemed unheeded by the rest. II<* advanced a step or two, and invited the Stranger to be seated. This action, and the looks turned toward him by the others, showed that be was in authority of some sorl among them. With him, therefore, our traveller concluded that the proposed conference wa.s to be held. There ; THK PARTBAS l.KAI'EK. wai nothii Inch WOuM have led a Careless ob- I _ ' : might have intellectual in his countenance, with 1. and manner than the rest of the company disj laved. In a ii. the negative courtesy of thai quiet and s< rious oni iin j art to the rudest and mo.»t frivo- thal they had a common purpose, and thai • ipaeity entered into their feeling toward the new- Whl thl r lif was to 1"- treated B8 I friend or an enemy, obvi- high consideration, not yet disclosed. Be wa> at length asked from whence he came, and answered from the neighborhood of Richmond. From which side of the river? From the north tide. ]>id he know anything of Van Courtlandt 1 His .-. Bacon's Braaoh, jnst above the town. "What force had . •■ I cannot aay certainly," he replied, "but common fame made his numbers about four thousand."' • I- that all, on both sides of the river?" said his interrogator. "0, no ! Col. boyal's regiment is at Petersburg, and Ool. t'oles's at Manchester — each about live hundred strong; and there is a piquet on the bridge island." •■ Did you cross there?" •• I did not." ■■ \\ here then ':" he was asked. •• I can hardly tell," he replied; " it was at a private lord, several miles above < larteraville." " Was not that mightily out of the way? "What made you come so ■ fund ?" •• It was safer travelling on that side of the river." •• Then the people OS that side of the river are your friends?" they are not ; but, B8 they are all of a color there, they would let in' pass, and a.-k no qU( BtionS, as lung as 1 travelled due west. On ; are one man's friend, ymi are the next man's enemy; and 1 had DO mind to answer (juestions." "1 l em to answer them now mighty freely." true I am like a letter that tells all it knows as soon as it thfl right hand ; hut it doM not want tODC opened before that." •• And bon d" you know that yon have got to the right hand now?" •• l'». causa I know where I am." '* And where an you '." " Just at the foot of the I'' ril's Backbone/' replied the youth. ■' Were you ever here befor- THE PARTISAN LEADER. 5 " Never in my life." " How do you know then where you are ?'' asked the mountaineer. "Because the right way to avoid questions is to ask none. Sol took care to know all about the road, and the country, and the place, before I left home." " And who told you all about it?" " Suppose I should tell you," answered the young man, "that Van Courtlandt had a map of the country made, and gave it to me." " I should say you were a traitor to him or a spy to us," was the stern reply. At the same moment a startled hum was heard from the crowd, and the press moved and swayed for an instant, as if a sort of spasm had pervaded the whole mass. " You are a good hand at questioning," said the youth, with a smile ; u but, without asking a single question, I have . found out all I wanted to know." " And what was that V a=ked the other. " Whether you were friends to the Yorkers and Yankees, or to poor old Virginia." " And which are we for ?" added the laconic mountaineer. " For Old Virginia forever," replied the youth, in a tone in which exultation rung through a deeper emotion, that half stifled his voice. It reached the hearts of his auditors, and was echoed in a shout that pealed along the mountain sides their proud war-cry of " Old Virgi- nia forever!" The speaker looked around in silence, but with a countenance that spoke all that the voices of his comrades had uttered. " Quiet, boys," said he, " never shout till the war is ended, unless it be when you see the enemy." Then turning again to the traveller, he said, " And how did you know we were for old Virginia ?" " I knew it by the place where I find you. I heard it in your voice ; I saw it in tliflr eyei ; and I felt it in my hart," said the young man, extending his hand. 1 1 is inquisitor returned the cordial pressure with an iron grasp. strong, but not convulsive, and went on : "You are a sharp youth.' said he, "and if you arc of the right metal that will hold an edge, you will make somebody feel it. But I don't know rightly yet who that i.^- to be, only just I will say, that if you are not ready to live and die by old Virginia, your heart and face are not of the same color, that's all." He then resumed his steady look and quiet tone, and added, " You must not make me forget what I am about. How did you learn til way here ?" T1IL PARTI8AS LBA1 aid the youth. "I leaned i: from Cap- I er. " If you a here en him since he knew it himself." .- the reply, " hut 1 have heard from him." •• I should lik< ;> letter. •• 1 have ii" I •• # •• Boa tl to my hone ruxl I will Bhow you." The youth, aooompanied byhia interrogator, now returned toward the Many of the wd were ahout to follow; but the chief (for neh be teemed) waved them hack with a silent motion of bis hand, while ■ glance of meaning at two of the company invited them to pro- as the stranger reached his horse, he drew out, from ; i the padding and seat of his saddle, a paper closely folded, (hi (bond to he a map of his route from Richmond to ■ in the mountains, a few miles west of the spot where the)' stood. ( hi this were traced the roads and streams, with the names of a few . written in a hand which was known to the leader of the moun- taineera to be thai of Captain Douglas. A red line marked the devious the traveller had heen directed to pursue. Ei Baid that after crossing the river, between Lynchburg and Car- le, to avoid the parties of the enemy stationed at both places, he had lain by, until dark, at the house of a true Virginian. Then turn- ith, and riding hard all night, he had crossed the Appomattox I'armville, | which he avoided for a like reason,) and, before day, :t behind him all the hostile posts and scouting parties. He soon i the Staunton river, and having passed it, resumed his westward safety. " You know this hand," said he to the chief, "and now I suppose atiefied." u I am satisfied," replied the other, "and glad to see you. I have loubt ahout you, young man, and you are heartily welcome among all we can give you — and that ain't much — and all we can do i ; and thai will depend Dpon whether stout hearts, and willing I rifles can help you. But you said you were hungry; lad en ogb of a part of our sorry dinner." THE PARTISAN LEADER. CHATTER It. Hens ! etiam Mensas consumimus. — Virgil. Returning to the party which they had left, they found the women in the act of placing their meal before them, under the apple-tree. There was a patch of grass there, but no shade ; nor was any needed in that lofty region. The frost had already done its work by stripping the trees of their leaves, and letting in the welcome rays of the sun through the naked branches. The meal consisted of fresh pork and venison, roasted or broiled on the coals, which looked tempting enough, though served up in wooden trays. There were no knives but such as each hunter carries in his belt. Our traveller's dirk supplied the place of one to him. Their plates were truly classical, consisting of cakes of Indian corn, baked in the ashes, so that, like the soldiers of ^Enas, each man ate his platter before his hunger was appeased. Our traveller, though sharp-set, could not help perceiving a woful insipidity in his food, for which his entertainer apologized. " We ha'nt got no salt to give you, stranger," said he. " The little that's made on the waters of Ilolston is all used there; and what comes by way of the sound is too dear for the like of us, that fight one half the year and work the other half, and then with our rifles in our hands. As lung as we let the Yankees hold James river, we must make up our minds to eat our hogs when they are fat, and to do without salt to our bread. But it is not worth grumbling about; and bread without salt is more than men deserve that will gave up their country without fighting for it." "When the meal was finished, our traveller, expressing a due sense of the courtesy of his entertainers, asked what was to pay, and proposed to continue his journey. " As to what you arc to pay, my friend," said the spokesman of tho party, in the same cold, quiet tone, " that is just nothing. If you come here by Captain Douglas's invitation, you are one of us; and if you do not, we are bound to find you as long as we keep you. But, as to your going just yet, it is quite against our rules." "How is that?" asked the traveller, with some expression of impa- tience. "That is what I cannot tell you;" replied the other. ■ 8 TU. LBADJ K. '. -;li. 11 cheeking himself, lie . -" Hut I set ;• n >thing bul wl At and prudent; own way to find out all you wish to know • I thought you said you did not doubt inc." 1 d . replied the other; * - 1 • n t that is not the thing. II rules ar< -lied, though I am." •It . ■ role to tell them," said the mountaineer, drily. "Hut make itranger. We mean you bo harm, and 1 will Bee thing laid Btraight before sun-rise. Vou are heartily Such al ire'Te got we give you; and that ifl better than you will fiii'l where \<■< nfirmed olntion to resist it. He liad patiently borne to be questioned •;. who had something of an air ol dignity. He was a tall, mbed, ami ] owerful man, of about forty, remarkable For the Bo- or, ami the thoughtful gravity of his countenanoe. The Other was a little, did fellow, not leas than sixty years "1 age, in manner ami carriage there wa< nothing to supply the want of in his diminutive form and features. A sharp, little, black eye int about him to attract; attention ; and in that the youth t hi an impertinent and knowing twinkle, which n \ ■ '.: offensive. •I said he to Witt, "that Captain Douglas was your in." •• Tfat is, ho commands all here. Hut I did not tell you this was my raj), tuiii. He is no nor Heutenant, nor ensign neither. Hut all of low him ; and, when he is away, the rest follow mc." •• Y..U all follow km .'" said the traveller, looking contemptuously on him. THE PARTISAN LEADER. 11 " To be sure they do," said Schwartz, with a quizzical smile, and an- swering the stranger's thoughts. " To be sure they do. Don't you see I am the likeliest man here ?" "I cannot say I do," said the youth, offended at the impertinent manner of the question. " Well, I am the strongest man in the whole company." " I should hardly think that," replied the traveller, scornfully. " Any how, then, I am the biggest," rejoined Schwartz, laughing. " That you must own. What ! do you dispute that, too ? Well, then, look here, stranger ! I ha'nt got no commission, and these men are as free as I am. AY hat do you think makes them obey my orders?" " I really cannot Bay," replied the young man. •' Well," said Schwartz, ° it is a curious business, and well worth your considering; because, you sec, I have a notion if you could find that out, you would find out a pretty good reason why you ought to tell me your name. But that is your business. Some name you must have, and the right one, too. And you see, stranger, it makes no odds whether it is no name or the wrong one. It is all the same thing ; be- cause, if you are the man that ought to have that paper, you would tell your name in a minute." " Do you know who ought to have it ?" asked the youth. " May be I do," said Schwartz. '• Question for question," said the other. - ( Do you know ?" " I do." " Well, then, my name is Arthur Trevor. Is th it right ?" u That's as it may be," said Schwartz. " But now I want to know how you came by this paper." " What need you care about that, if I am the person that ought to have it." " Just because I want to know if you are the one that ought to have it." " I tell you," replied the youth, " that my name is Arthur Trevor." " But I do not know that it is," replied Schwartz, carelessly. "Do you doubt my word, then?" exclaimed the youth; his eye flashing, and the blood rushing to his face, as if it would burst through his clear skin. "Look hero, stranger," laid Schwartz, in a tone of quiet expostula- tion ; "I don't mau DO offence, and you will think BO too, if yOtt'll just look at it rightly, ; because, you sec, I don't know who you are. I doil'4 doubt Arthur Trevor's word; and, if you arc Arthur Trevor, I don't doubt your word. No\v, if you have any way to show that you Til. \N I.r.U'ER. t to do it. and it will set all as straight ■ it Ions." a\\- of showing it." said the young man. in some k .arc ;■> bring nothing with me to show who 1 am : i :• might have brought me into trouble in some parts Dough," replied Schwartz, " and so T asked you how by the pa] ise I know how Arthur Trevor should i. ii' you got it that way, why then you are th-> I'.v th!- ti uth saw the folly of his anger, and answered, • from a man he nev fore. '• \\ hat K>rt Of a man was he?" asked Schwartz. • \ thing uncommon, except that he was lame." " Did he give you any thing else at the same time?" re me this," said the youth, producing a dirty piece iper, on which was scrawled these words: has oeoashnn to go of a juruey, carry this with you. of Bum service to you." •11." said Schwartz, "that will do. You arc Arthur Trevor, '.id I reckon, Witt, you would have said so too, if you ; ■ ■ Witt looked at the paper, and merely nodded assent. '• We\\" Bai 1 the young man, " now 1 suppose 1 may go to my I." •• Not i . I Sohwarti. •• Why bo?" asked the youth, again relapsing into petulance. ".In-t becau e you could not get there," was the answer. ■• Why not," said he "after finding my way thtU fax." reason that you could not have got any farther if I You would in. it with rougher customers than the a bi and the camp. Come, come, my son. You must learn to The captain has not go! a better friend than me in rid; dot you neither, if you did but know all. And, you see. a new trade j and 1 thought I would just give you a h»oii. .Now you may «■•, that, when you mean nothing hut what is rod //"» always know how that is,) the naked truth • friend : and then, the sooner it comes the better. I am h of an old fol ; and ] reckon I ha^fl told more lies than •. for all that, I have seen the day when the truth \ than the cunninccst lie that ever was told. And then THE PARTISAN LEADER. 13 again, it an't no use to mind what a man says when he don't know you ; because, you see, it an't you he is talking to, but just a stran- ger" "But I have travelled desperate hard to-day, Witt," continued Schwartz, " and I must push on to the camp to-night. 80 just give mc a mouthful, and I'll be off, and pilot Mr. Trevor through among the guards." " My horse is at your service, as you are tired," said Arthur, whose feelings towards his new acquaintance were now quite mollified. u I have had riding enough for one day," said Schwartz ; " and was glad enough to get to where I could leave my horse. Tt an't much good a horse will do you, or mc either, where we arc going. By the time we climb to the top of the Devil's Back-bone, you'll be more tired than me ; and the horse will be worst off of any." He now told one of the boys to make ready Arthur's horse, and, snatching a hasty morsel, seized his rifle. " It will not do," said he, "to starve when a man is on fatigue, and it will not do to cat too much. And see here, Witt," added he, taking him apart, and speak- ing in a low tone, " if a long-legged, red-headed fellow comes along here, and tells you he is from Currituck, and seems to think he knows all the signs, never let him find out but what he does. Only just make an excuse to keep him a while, and send a runner on to me, that \ may have time to get out of the way, because he must not see ire. Then you can start him off again with a couple of fellows to show him the way." 1 \ THE PARTISAN LEADER. r 11 A i'TKR III. The fbresVa shady scene, thai own nol man's dominion iwoll, l ! . : 1 1 h ne'er it rarely been. — Rykux. 'I'm off togetber, Arthur walking, and lead- i reached a point where a .-harp ridge, jutting from the .side of the mountain, came down ahniptly | , lank of the rivulet. Up this rijdge, not Unaptly railed •u<\" the path led. Leaning, as it were, against . in — its position, the narrow ridgy edge along which the tra- veller clam I the rough nodules which interrupted the i like the notches in a hen's ladder, gave it no small resemblance to this rifely contrivance. The steep descent on either hand into deep v and hirsute with stinted trees bristling from the sides, to- with the similarity of these same nodules to the joints of the spine, had I i a name strictly descriptive of the place The pness, and vast height of the ascent, would naturally ; in Ful epithet; and were the spot to he named again, a hundred to one it would receive the same name, and no other. miuit of this narrow stair, the travellers stopped to take breath, back on the scene hi low. Arthur, who was at the romantic sge when young men aie taught to affect an enthusiasm for the beauties of nature, and to prate about hues and scents, and light and shade, and : in all the variety of the grand, the beautiful, and the pictun sque, had been feasting his imagination with the thought Hew to be seen from the pinnacle before him. Like about to feast on turtle, who will Dot taste a bisouit before- hand i'd spoil his dinner, so our young traveller steadily ard the hill as he asi i nded it. Ev< n when he si to talc breath, b< ■ ful not to look behind. Schwartz, on the y, who 9 . always faced ahoiit on such occasion."., filling the ] h conversation, and looking as if unconscious of r which his eye glanced unheeding. Arthur was I h indiffi r< nee, and wondered whether this was the effect absence of a faculty of which poets so muclr delight to apeak. THE PARTISAN LEADER. 10 At length the summit was attained ; and now the youth looted around in anticipated exultation. At first he felt bound to admire, and forgetting the unromantic character .of his matter-of-fact com- panion, exclaimed : " Oh ! how grand ! How beautiful !" "For my part," said Schwartz, indifferently, " I cannot say that I see any thing at all rightly, except it be the little branch down there, with its patches of meadow and corn-fields, and its smoky cabins. In the spring of the year, when you cannot sec the cabins for the shaders, and the corn, and oats, and meadow is all of a color, it looks mightily like a little green snake. What it is like just now, I cannot say, as I never saw one of them snakes half-scaled, and with a parcel of warts on his buck : but I have a notion he would look pretty much so. As to any thing else — there is something there, to be sure, but what it is, I am sartain I could never tell, if I did not know. And as to the distance I hear some folks talk about — why the farther you look, the less you see, that's all; until you get away yonder, t'other side of nowhere ; and then you see just nothing at all." " But the vastness of the view!" said Arthur. ''The idea of im- mensity !' ? "As to that," replied Schwartz, "you have only just to look right up, and you can look a heap farther, and still see nothing. All the difference is, you know it is nothing; and down there, you know there is something, and you cannot see what it is." " I am afraid your eyes are bad," said Arthur. U I cannot see as well as I could once," replied Schwartz; "but if there was anything to be seen down there, I should be right apt to sec it. I have clomb this hill, Mr. Trevor, when I could sec the head of a nail in a target fifty yards off; and drive it with my rifle; and T don't think I saw any thing more then than I do now; and that is only just because there an't nothing there to see. — It3od! but there is, though! There's that chap a coming along; and T must see the Captain, and tell him all about it before he comes." "I !\hwartz. A few more simple questions and out-of-the-way answers were cx- . when Schwartz. ft dri rO DBID g tlie other, in an under tone, said: i an one "f the new recruits, I reckon ? The other nodded; an 1 w. nt ■ en driven down for the winter, to the farms of their wi.. 1 1 1 . low, but they were left here that the men might have the use •he milk. Should their hunting at anytime prove unsuccessful, then- wtfl always a beef at hand. wartz was known, and joyfully welcomed. He stopped only to bell of the deer, and moved on. u You have a curious system her.,'' -aid Arthur; "I s^e the people here know j'ou, but how did . # with that new recruit. I watched you, ami I did not see you give him any sign, end he did not ask for a countersign." THE PARTISAN LEADER. 19 "That is all because you don't know what foolish answers I gave to his questions. You see we ha'nt got no countersign rightly; 'cause you see, when I stop a man, I want to know who he is, but I don't want to tell him any thing about myself. But if I ax a man for the countersign, just so 1 might as well tell him I am on guard at once. So we've just got, may be, twenty simple questions; and when we ask them, our own folks know what answer to give, and the answer is sure to be one that nobody would give unless he was in the secret." " And pray how did you find out that I was Arthur Trevor ?" " ! nothing easier, sir. That man, that gave you the map, was not no more lame than you. But I told him to be sure and not to give it to nobody but you, and then to limp so as you'd be sure to notice it. You sec, it was I that was to try fall in with you, and pilot you; but, after that, I got upon another scheme. As to the other paper, that was to serve you with our folks, because there was a mark there you did not notice, that any of them would know; and then they would be middling sure you were the man you said you were. They would have been civil to you, and let you pass, but then they would have sent a man or two to the camp with you. And now, Mr. Trevor, here is some- thing that I can s«e, and I have a notion it's worth looking at." While he was yet speaking, Arthur's ears had been saluted by a brawling sound, which he now recognized as the rush of water. Turn- ing his head toward it, he perceived that it proceeded from a deep and shaggy dell, which the path was now approaching, and along the verge of which it presently wound. Here the plain broke sheer down into a gulph of vast depth, at the bottom of which a considerable stream was seen. It dashed rapidly along, pouring its sparkling waters over successive barriers of yellow rock, that sent up a golden gleam from beneath the crystal sheet that covered them. The mountain-pine, the fir, the kalmia, and numberless other evergreens, which nearly filled the gorge, afforded only occasional glimpses of the water; while they set off the picturesque appearance of so much as tin y j emitted to be seen. As they advanced, they came to a part where the trees had been cut from the brow of the cliff; and, several of those below having been removed, a clearer view was afforded Here, at the depth of two hundred feet, figures were soon moving to and fro, while right opposite, under a beetling cliff, that screened them from above, were groups clustered around fires, kindled against rock, behind a rodo breast-work of logs. The whole breadth of the stream was here to view, apparently twenty or thirty yards wide. Though shallow, by if its rapidity it seemed to pour a vast volume of water. i Tin \N LEADER. • die cliff, Schwarti now utte- :\ and iaing their rifles, moved up the glen, lea under the hank .>n Tv)ii ->i the travoll< , and presently readied a point it which the ]ith, tur , • to tli«- left, dived into the abyss, leading down :i rng* along the face of the cliff, in the direction bo thai of tin ir approach. Tt reached the very bottom, nearly Under tin' poin! from which the shout of Schwartz had given notice .,f hi* i' Here he stopped; and requesting Arthur to wait a tided. Tie had not gone far before his name waa by a docen voices, and immediately he wa-- beard to I Waits; and \ have a friend with me." ing him down," was the answer: upon whfoh Sohwarts, return- I Artliur to follow him, and mind hi! Arthur nd descend.'], not without some appearance of danger, BOme- : h :• and sometimes crawling, until he reached the group station, d at the foot of this rude stair-way. Here let us leave hill ■ while, and go back to enquire who and whence he was. • * THE PARTISAN LEADER. 21 CHAPTER IV. Handmaid of Prudence, Fortune comes Prompt to her bidding, ready to fulfil Her mistress' pleasure ; whether she demand The treasures of the South, the applause of n.en, Or the calm sunshine of domestic bliss. Lo ! they are hers! Anoxykoi;* Arthur Trf.vor was the youngest son of a gentleman who resided in the neighborhood of Richmond. He was a man in affluent circum- stances, and had long and honorably filled various important and digni- fied stations in the service of his native State. Endowed with hand- some talents, and amiable disposition, and all the accomplishments that can adorn a gentleman, he added to these the most exemplary virtues. His influence in society had, of course, been great, and though now, at the age of seventy, withdrawn from public life, his opinions were en- quired of, and his counsel sought, by all who had access to him Through life he had been remarkable for firmness, and yet more for prudence. The steadiness of his principles could never be questioned, but, it was thought, he had sometimes deemed it wise to compromise, when men of less cautious temper would have found safety in prudent boldness. To this temperament had been attributed his conduct in regard to the politics of the last twenty years. Bred up in the school of State lights, and thoroughly imbued with its doctrines, he had, even before that time, been accustomed to look, with a jealous eye, on the progres- sive usurpations of the Federal Government. In the hope of arresting these, he had exerted more than his usual activity in aiding to put down the younger Adams, and to elevate his successor. Though no candidate for the spoils of victory, no man rejoiced more sincerely in the result of that contest; and, until the emanation of the proclamation of December, 1832, he had given his hearty approbation, and steady, b quiet support, to the administration of 'Andrew Jackson. 1 "i ■ -in that moment hi seemed to look with fearful bodings on the affairs of his country. Bia disapprobation of that instrument was ex- pressed with as much freedom and force as was consistent with his habitual reserve and moderation. Il<- was, indeed, alarmed into ■ de- gree of excitement unusual with him, and might have gone farther TBI r«.!.TI--AN T.K.U'ER. tha- then were di s lie atirely disapproved the nullifying ordinance I, though lir recognised the. right rtiiiL: to that remedy. Ele waa ajrarc • ha* ' is, thinking that its necessity would he t by all, feared that thai oonvictiou might eema too, late. :" Federal measures to weaken the intl E ith, and to increase the - of their and those of the General Government Beaee that whenever Virginia, or any other of the slave-holding tuld find itself driven t.> seoessioB, the other party, in the superior strength, might he tempted forcibly to resist the • tl : ht. They thus arrived at the conclusion that sepa- ration | whioh they deemed inevitable) to be peaceable, must ho ia had been laid before Mr. Trevor, and. in proportion to irgency with which they wore pressed, was his alarm and his ui>- •i"ii to adhere to the Union, lie. at last, had broughl himself to v union, on any terms, better than disunion, under any eirnim- les er evil, therefore, he determined to forget the itiou, and. striving to reconcile himself to all the aot> of the tinistratlbn, he regarded every attempt to unite the Smith, in BUp- ' ern president, aa a jo-elude to the formation oi a southeni By consequence, he became a partisan of Martin Van Buren; and united with Ritchie, and others of the same kidney, in ing to Bubdue the spirit, and tame down the State pride of inia. These endeavors, aided by the lavish use of federal patron- in the State, were bo far successful, thai when, at the end of Van Ban -it. 'in, he demanded a third election, she alone, in the South, .supported his pretensions. loyment of the Baine pernicious influences, the aghout the State had been sn regulated, as tn produce F a majority <<\' members devoted lo the views of the usurper. ! until the Bpring of 1> l v . at which time the results • jcntially the same which bad taken place since Virginia,at one stroke of the pen i punyed of honor, < tpunged the history of all her Prom that time the land of Washington, ■ I Jefferson, Madison, and Randolph, sunk to red and managed by the Rivesea and I . the Watkinses and "Wilsons, ;ncc to 1" rn history depends, like that of Eros- THE TARTISAN LEADER. Z6 tratus, on the glories of that temple of liberty which they first desecra- ted and then destroyed. '• Where once the Caesars dwelt, " There dwelt, tuneless, the birds of ni^ht." 1 From some cause, not understood at the time, an unexpected reaction had taken place between the spring elections and the recurrence of that form of presidential election in the fall, the observance of which was still deemed necessary to display, and, by displaying, to perpetuate the usurper's power. This reaction appeared to show itself chiefly in those counties heretofore most distinguished ibr their loyalty. It would have seemed as if the spirit of John Randolph had risen from the sleep oi death, and walked abroad through the scenes where his youthful shoul- ders had received the mantle of his eloquence from the hand of Henry. For the first time, in twelve years, the vote of Virginia was recorded against the re-election of Martin Van Buren to the presidential throne. But not the less subservient were the proceedings of the Legislature elected for his use, the spring before. Yet enough had been doue to justify the hope that the ancient spirit of old Virginia would yet show itself in the descendants of the men who had defied Cromwell, in the plenitude of his power, and had cast off the yoke of George the Third, without waiting for the co-operation of the other colonies. At the same time, the power and the will of a fixed majority in the North, to .Live a master to the South, had been made manifest. It was clearly seen, too, that he had determined to use the power thus obtained, and to administer the government solely with a view to the interest of that sectional faction, by which he had been supported. " Vic victis .'" "Woe to the vanquished !" was the word. It had gone forth; and northern cupidity and northern fanaticism were seen to march, hand in hand, to the plunder and desolation of the South. Filler these circumstances, the southern States had been, at length, forced to sec that the day for decisive action had arrived. They there- fore determined u longer to abide the obligations of a constitution, the forms of which alone remained, and having, by a movement nearly nmultaneoos, settded from the Union, they hud immediately formed a southern confederacy. The suddenness of these measuics was lesf markable than the prudence with which they had been conducted. The two together left little doubt that there had been a preconcert among the leading men of the several States, arranging provisionally what should be done, whenever circum.-tances should throw power into hands of those whom, at the bidding of the usurper, the people had THR PAr.TISAN I : tl,. ir •• •■unci!- I: is now known that tli.ro I •no. In Virginia, n iim n who entered into the same viewe. BqI while the ! tli.it mi decisive step would l»o taken by the more thovt her cooperation, lie had devoted all 1. 1 indirect, to <• nitrol and influonco her election. Of tuinul- I ad no fear. The organised operation of the r.rnniont wat what ho dreaded. By this alono cmld the .n ho effected ; and this was effectually pn V( nted by rating oa the elections of Members of the Legislature. From the ■ riil.tr Tote on the presidential election, less evil had been K] ; das had been taken to control it. In consequence of mora of the real sentiments of the people had boon allowed to appear on that, occasion ; and. from this manifestation, the thern States wore encouraged to hope for the ultimate accession • Virginia to their confederacy. They had therefore determined to wait for her DO longer, but to proceed to the execution of their plan, li -iviiiL' her to follow. The disposition of the usurper, at fir.-t, was to treat them •noes; and to take measures for putting down, by force, their v. to bifl authority. But circumstances, to be mentioned 1 it impolitic to resort to this measure; But these did not operate revenl him from using the mast efficacious means to prevent Vir- ginia i'roui following theii example. Though restrained from attacking them, nothing prevented him from affecting to fear an attack from tbn in. This gave a pretext for raising troops; and the position of Yir- the frontier State, afforded an excuse for stationing them ; ,u her border*, [fader these pretences, small corps were establish- ed in many of the disaffected counties. Should the presence of tl, be ineffectual to secure the return of delegatoa devoted to the erown, • cut ity was taken against the aotlOO of the Legislature. Richmond, the seat of government, became the head-qnarters of the arm] rration, U it was called, and, surrounded by this, the mock tlie General Assembly were to be held, money thus thrown into the ooonta d the corrupt, while terror subdued the timid. On Mr. Trevor, who was neither, th things had I e.iiiirary etlct. Ho now, when it WAS too late, saw and of his former Qvenaansion. He now began to ana* that they had been right who had urged him, eighteen y, irs be- fore, to hud oil aid in the work of arousing the people to a sense of their danger, and preparing them to meet it as one man THE PARTISAN LEADER. 25 CHAPTER V. A =p»r.ge that soaks \iy> the King"? countenance. Hamlet. A mono those who had been most prompt to take this view of flie subject, and most vehement in recommending it, was a younger brother of Mr. Trevor. In all, but the great essentials of moral worth, this gentleman was the very reverse of Iris brother. The difference was, perhaps, mainly attributable to the character of his intellect. Quick in conception, and clear in his views, he was strong in his convictions, and habitually satisfied with his conclusions. This, added to a hasty temper, gave him the appearance and character of a man rash, incon- siderate, and precipitate, always in advance of the progress of public opinion, and too impatient to wait for it. His ill success in life seemed to justify this construction. Though eminently gifted by nature, and possessing all the advantages of education, he had never occupied any of those stations in which distinction is to be gained. In his private affairs," he had been alike unpjosperous. Though his habits were not expensive, his patrimony had been but little increased by his own ex- ertions. He had married a lady of handsome property, but had added little to it. With only two daughters, he had not the means of endow- ing them with more than a decent competency; while his elder brother, with a family of a dozen children, had educated the whole, had provi- ded handsomely for such as had set out io life, and retained the where- withal to give the rest nearly as much as the children of the younger could e.\pc the conclusion already intimated, " that union, oh any Iter th 1/1 disunion,, wider any circumstance* " The same habit of thinking bad retarded the change, which the M flf tin- last three years had been working in the mind of Mr. Bogh Trevor. His native Candor and modesty made it easy for him to believe that he had been wrong; and. being convinced of error, 10 ad- mit it. Bat a Corollary from this admission would be, that the incon- rate and imprudent Bernard had, all the time, been right of the BUch an admission Mr. Trevor felt an habitual ditiidence, that made him among the last to avuw a change of opinion which, peri :iHiiced in no mind sooner than in his. But the change now oomplete, and it brought to the conaoientious old genth man a .ction that on him, above all men, it was incumbent to .-pare no 10 in his power to remove the mischiefs of which he felt his own supin arc In en in part tie lb Mil now a private man; but he had SOUS. To have given a to their political course, might not haw been difficult liut, .a the act of repenting an acknowledged error, how could he presume i 00 hifl new eonvictioBS, aS to endeavor to bind them 00 the minds sa right to use any portion of his paternal influ- ' purpose of giving to tho future course of his children'.-* ''■ S tendon Cy sa might lead them into error, to the disap- . 'merit of their hopes, and perhaps to crime? The answer to these ■ I s determination is leave them to their own thoughts, - might throw upon these impor- • It hap].. ie :.TI.-AN I.KADBB. . and his devotion to hk pan the account of gratitude by Hi loot, on his port] was anxiously watching for an ■nal zeal, which is so stroii- a re n to the favor of tl intimated to Cel. Tn nothing was wonting to ensure him speedy promotion to the rank v, hii'Ii might be magnified, I too pretext ft* advancing him beyond hit equals in \]j: • ! "i' this, he burned for active employment; and earn' 1 to 1"- inarched to the theatre of war. - in Virginia. Bat lie had long since ceased to at- tri! reonality to the State, and it was a matter of 00 i lun. that the en< tniee, against whom he was t<> art, had a born or resided there. Personally, they were atmngers to him ; ;ily knew tin in as men denying the supremacy of the Federal iment and hostile to the President and his intended Buoeet :i. indeed, he might possibly meet in arms whom he would gladly avoid. Bis younger brother, Donglas Trevor, had been, like him at \\\ .~t Point, had entered the army, and served rs. Having spent a winter at home, it was suspected that he had become infected with the treasonable heresies of Southern poli- had resigned his commissioo and travelled into South I * of this journey on his mind was not a matter of i had 1 a receive/] from him by his brother and i ial -. if his own regiment, avowing a total change of senti- m. nt. These letters left no doubt that should Virginia declare for sa- ollision between the Southern League and the old I ttCS, he would be found fighting against the latter. The avowal of such sentiments and purposes had so exeited the dis- I mel, that l.o had cut sliort the correspondence by that be might never again be reminded that he was the .bro- •!' a traitor. Hi.- litter, to this effect, being laid before the com- mand, r in-ehief, had given the ini-l dcei.MVe proof of the zeal of mi • r an 1 tli,- ,\, |, B tion of the <.thcl\ rthia had been brought ahoutj CoL Trevor knew not. II any alteration i» blS father's sentiment.-; and, indeed, i 1 nut been so, at the time when he was awakened to and his OWn duty. The change in his mind h r mght by other means ; for his father was, at that with him, to doubt was to be profoundly silent. THE PARTISAN LEADER. 29 CHATTER VI The boy is grown So like your brothel 1 that he seems his own. — CrtAEFi:. Difference of political opinion had produced no estrangement be- tween Mr. Hugh Trevor and his brother, though it had interrupted their intercourse by rendering it less agreeable. Men cannot take much pleasure in each other's society when the subject on which both think and feel most deeply is one on which they widely differ. They accordingly saw little of each other, though an occasional letter passed between them in token of unabated affection. I believe I have mentioned that the children of Mr. Bernard Trevor were both daughters. The eldest, then seventeen years of age, had been invited to spend with her uncle, in the vicinity of Richmond, the winter of Douglas's furlough. He was at that time about five-and^ twenty. His long residence in the Xorth had not weaned him from his native State. He had not been flattered into a contempt of every- thing Virginian. Neither his age nor rank gave him consequence enough to be the object of that sort of attention. Perhaps, too, it had been seen that he was a less fit subject for it than his elder brother. Though much the younger, he had a range, originality, and indepen- dence of thought, of which the other was incapable. Resting in the esteem of his friends and the approbation of his own conscience, the applause of the multitude, the flattery of sycophants, and the seducing attentions of superiors, had small charms for him. His heart had never ceased to glow at the name of Virginia, and he returned to her as the wanderer should return to the bosom of his home — to his friends — to his native land. In appearance, manners, and intelligence, he was much improved ; in feeling, the same warm-hearted, generous, unso- phisticated youth, as formerly. In the meantime, his cousin Delia had already reached his father's house, and was domesticated in the family. There she found the younger brothers and sixers of Douglas Impatiently expecting his ar- rival, and so much occupied with the thought of him, that, had she been of a jealous disposition, she might have deemed her w< Icome somewhat careless. Rut she already knew her cousins, her uncle, and her aunt. This was not the first time that their houec wa? her tempo- H THE PARTISAK L I leaned ( If as one of the fan •cd to eater into all their feeling*. Dong! ytx& ■ Daring his long . hie heart had . th( in. In tliis he differed widely from Owen, in - of an idle life and the Bah* mes of ambition had • of tli<' simple joys of his childhood's home. The u him and Douglas, in this ratpeet, rendered the latter popular with the singlcdiearted beings who were impatiently iin. remember brother DooglasZ" Mid Virginia Trevor, .. younger than Delia* '•Mamma say* you were a great with him when a child, and qadd to call him your Douglas." " I could i i Lave been more than three years old at the time you i Delia ; "but 1 have heard of it so often, that 1 Bomber it. ]>ut, of course, I do net remember him." '• And, of course, he docs aot remember you," said Mrs. T' •• At I< :.-t, he would not know you. lint I doubt if he ere? has for- ked you, as you were then. lie was to be your husband, you km>w : and your father gave him a set of rules to walk by. lb- was to d .and mi, and to be so and so; and Harry Banfbrd was to be his model lie said nothing about it; but " Sanford and Morton " was hardly ever fit Of bis bands, and We could see that he was always trying to s<^uar* iet bv your father's maxims. I believe in my heart it made i difference in the boy; and that is the reason why he is less like hi.- and more like yours, than any of the rest of my 1" •■ 1 shall certainly love him, then," said Delia, her eyes filling as she spoke, •' If he is like my dear old father." "Indeed, and you may," said Mrs. Trevor; "but for all that. tld rather have him like his own Father. But you must not be af- fronted, Delia; you know I claim the right t" bra.: about my old i: ' him up over everybody — even the President himself." •• 1 the President," said Delia, "'but I should be sorry t • my father with him." •■ 1 can assure you," replied the aunt, " there are very few men that • ; arison. ! he is the most elegant, agreeabh til loan, tint ever I -aw." • my nnoli ." said Delia, smiling, "rahaw! Y ire, I always except him." " / will i' ■ 'ny fatfar," said Delia, gravely. " I should apt like to hear him and Martin Van Buren praised in the .sime breath." " Well, my dear," said the gouddiuniured old lady, " wc must not THE PARTISAN LEADER, 31 quarrel about it ; but you must take care not to talk so before Dough.-, because he is tbe President's soldier." '• I thought," said Delia, " be was in tbc service of tbe United States." " Well I and is not tbat all the same thing ? /do not pretend to know anything about it ; but my husband says so, and that is enough for me." Mr. Trevor, who bad sat by the while, listening, with grave compla- cency, now said : " I am afraid you don't report me truly, my dear." Then, extending his hand to Delia, he drew her gently to him, and placing her on his knee, kissed her. " You are a good girl," said he. '• and shall love and honor your father as much as you please. He is a noble, generous man, and a wise man, too. I would to God," %i be, sighing heavily, " that I bad bad half his wisdom." "Why, bless my soul, Mr. Trevor!" exclaimed his wife, " what does this mean ?" " Nothing," replied be, "but a just compliment to the self-renoun- cing generosity and far-sighted sagacity of my brother." Saying this, he rose and left the room, while his wife gazed after him in amazement. She had never heard him say so much before, and now perceived that he had thoughts that she was not apprised of. Believ- ing him faultless and incapable of error, even when he differed from himslf, she at once concluded that she had lost her cue, and deter- mined to say no more about politics until she recovered it; but he never adverted to the subject again, in her presence, during tbe whole winter, and her niece, consequently; heard no farther allusion' to it from her. This was no unwelcome relief to Delia. She was no politician, but she was not incapable of understanding what passed in her presence on the subject, except when the interlocutors ehose to mystify their meaning. Her father, a man of no reserves, never spoke but with a purpose of expressing his thoughts clearly and fully; and no man bet- tor knew how to express them than he. Though deficient, as I have said, in that cold prudence which takes advantage of circumstance.-, was eminently trifled with that more vigorous faculty which mnk's :,, In the piping times of peace, he was a man of no mark ; but wlu • ciety was breaking up from its foundations, he was the man with whom the timid and doubting would seek safety and counsel. Infirmity now overtaken him, and he could do little more than think and speak Consulted by all the bold spirits who sought to lift Up, from the du •'. the soiled and tattered banner of his native State, and spread it I wind, lie nc\ diverse freely with such, and often in I presence of his daughters. Til: he bad net imbued them with hi:- opiaioi minds with the arguments hy which Im v. i, h< had made them lull partaken of hit It if lu- had a porpOM in this. What that pur- waf . One end, at least, it answered. Et inert uion of lii- powera, their confidence in his wisdom, and their rson. Mrs. Hugh Trevor herself did not hold bet bus- than w.i- oharished by Delia for that ■ | f:ith« r. And aeter did man beta* r des< rv< th< oonfiding affection of a daugh- 11c had been her principal instrnctor from infancy. He had ted her mind; he had trained her tu self-oommand, and taught her . happiness in virtue. Educated at heme, her manners were in a domestic eirele — characterized by refinement, and deli- . but frank propriety. Her love of reading had been cultivated by throwing books in her way; and, the taste once formed, her attention had been directed to snob as might best qualify her for the dutu woman'.- only appropriate station. Herein she had an example in her mother, a lady of the old Bohool, courteoaa and gentle, but high-spirit- : >us, and full of her husband's enthusiasm iii the cause of his try. Mr. Bernard Trevor was indeed, a man to be loved passion- ately, if loved at all; ami to shed the vivid hue of his mind on those of his ; It was the delight of his wile to witness and to cherish the dutiful affection and ardent admiration of her daughters for their father. The consequence was, that his power over their thoughts, Icel- and inclinations was unbounded. It will be readily believed that, in the miml of iKiia Trevor, (bus I n toecupiod, there was no room for any very favorable predispositions td a young man trained from bis boyhood in the scrviee of her Btry'l op] i She had heard his mother speak of him as the lier of the arch-enemy of her beloved Virginia, and a scnti- menl of abhorrence arose in her mind at the words ; but .-he reflected that be was her cousin ; the son of her good nncle ; the brother of her dearest friend ; and, trying to remember bis fondness for her when a child, IBM i 1.: i' '1 down the feeling Oi disgust, as unnatural and wicked. 1'ut. alu r all this discipline of her own mind, she found it impossible t'. think of him with complacency, or to anticipate his arrival with 11- r imagination always painted him in the hateful dress wh ii taught to regard as the badge of slavery — the liv- nt. She would try to love him, as a kinsman, but she tld like him or respect him. At length lie mud-.- bis appearance, and, to her great relief, in the THE PARTISAN LEADER. 33 plain attire of a citizen. He was a handsome youth, whose native . grace had been improved by his military education, and in his man- ners uniting the frankness of a boy with the polish and elegance of an accomplished gentleman. "Whether he had been admonished by his father to respect the feelings of his fair cousin, or had caught his re- serve, on the subject of politics, by contagion, she had no means of knowing. Certain it is, that on that subject he was uniformly silent, and Delia soon learned to converse with him on other topics without dreading an allusion to that. She thus saw him as he was, and, by de- grees, lost the prejudice which, for a time, blinded her to any merit he might po?^ And he did possess great merit. A high sense of honor, strict principles, great openness and generosity, were united in him with talents of no common order. Quick, apprehensive, and clear in his perceptions, there was a boldness, vividness, and distinctness in his thoughts and language that continually reminded her of him she most loved and honored. Of her father he frequently spoke with great ven- eration and affection. He remembered, as his mother had conjectured, many of his uncle's precepts. He frequently quoted them as of high authority with him; and it was plain to see that, cherished during four- teen years, they had exercised a decided influence in the formation of his character. Indeed, it might be doubted whether his imagination had ever dismissed the idea which had first disposed him to lend a willing ear to the suggestions of his uncle. That which was sport to the elder mojnbers of the family, had seemed to him, at the time, a se- rious business. The thought that the little girl who loved to hang on his neck and kiss him might one day be his wife, had certarnly taken possession of his boyish mind. How long he had consciously retained it could not be known ; but the traces of it were still there, and were certainly not obliterated by the change which time had wrought in his cousin. Of her personal appearance I have said nothing. Were I writing a novel, I should be bound, by all precedent, to give, an exact account of De- lia's whole exterior. Her person, her countenance, her hair, her eyes, her complexion, should all be described, and the whole summed up in ' nsnnhlr of surpassing beauty. But, in this true history, I am unfortunately bound down by facts, and I lament, that to the best of my recollection, T shall not have occasion to speak of a single female, in the progress of my narrative, whose beauty can be made a theme of ju;-t praise. I do sincerely lament this; for euch is the constitution of human nature, that female beauty influences the heart and mind of man, even by report We read, in Oriental talcs, of great princes M TnK PABTISAH LEADER. enamored of descriptions. The grey eyes of Qmen Kli . le her unpopular with the youthful reader] ami the | -t latnl, three hundred year- alter the worms had ■ r, Mill continues to gild her history mid gloBS over her crimes. i iv nothing so much in favour of the beauty of Delia Trevor, U that she was good and intelligent,, reminding the reader of th< . Mrs. Dorothy Primrose, to wit: " Handsome is, that han I docs." 1 OU only add, that, when I saw her afterwards hanging on the arm of Douglas, and looking up in his face with all the deep and votion of a woman's love, I saw enough of the constituents 1'ity to make her an object of love, and enough >i the BOoJ of truth and tenderness to make her seem transcendently beautiful in the this, to account for the fact that her cousin Douglas soon found himself taking great pleasure in her society, and anxious to please her, not more from duty than inclination. He was, perhaps, chic fly attract- ed by her conversation, which was always cheerful, sprightly, and in- telligent. He may have yielded to a spell of hardly teas magic than that of beauty; the spell of a voice melodious, distinct, articulate, and richly flexible, varying its tone-; unconsciously with every ohang grade of thought or feeling. It may have been the effect of what By- ron would call "blind contact," and tho sage Mrs. Broadhuret "propin- quity/' or it may have been that his hour was come. If one in ten of my married friends can tell exactly how /(<• oame to fall in lovw with his wife, I shall hold myself bound to impure farther intS> this m But I do not mean to intimate that Lieutenant Trevor, turning his backon.thc belles of Boston and New fork, and Philadelphia, and Baltimore, and Washington, came home, and tumbled forthwith into love with a plain country girl, just because she was his cousin, and he had loved her when a child. I do not mean to say he was in love with her at all. He had a sincere affection for her; he liked her conversation ; I Imired her talents much, and her virtues more. He liked very h to be with her, and was very much with her. • t came of this, the reader shall be told when we have disp • matters of higher concernment. THE PARTISAN LEADER. 35 CHAPTER VII. Nero fiddled while Rome was bunnr.g. Douglas Trevor reached his father's house just after the Virginia Legislature had assembled. The presidential election was just over, and the partisans of Van Burcn, exulting in their success, made their leader the more hateful to his opponents by the insolence of their tri- umph. Though he had lost the vote of Virginia, it will be remember- ed that he still commanded a majority in the Legislature, elected be- fore the revolution in public sentiment was complete. The more recent expression of public sentiment showed that the time was come when power must be held by means far different from those by which it had been acquired. Opinion, which at first had been in their favor, was now against them. Corruption had for a time supplied the place; but the fund of corruption was all insufficient to buy off the important in- terests which were now roused to defend themselves. To add to its ef- ficiency by all practicable means, and to bring to its aid the arm of force, was all that remained. To organize measures for this purpose, and to enrich themselves from the profuse disbursement of public money, which formed a part of the plan of operation*;, were the great objects which engaged the minds of the majority in the Virginia Legislature. But these, important as they were, could not entirely wean them from those indigencies which, for many years, had made Richmond, during the winter season, the scene of so much revel and debauchery. To these, as well as to personal in- and the great interests of the faction, much time was given. But the necessity of attend i cially to the latter was made daily more apparent by the startling intelligence which every mail brought from the South and Southwest. The nearly simultaneous 'secession of the States in that quarter, and the measures to.be taken for the forma- tion of a southern confederacy, were things which had been talked of until they were no longer dreaded. But causes had gradually wrought their ncctssiry effect*) and the ultimate cooperation of Virgiuia, if left to act freely, was now sure. I have already spoken of those men, in each of the Mmthi of cool heads, long views, and stout hearts, who, watching the progress 3o* TDE PARTIBAB LE,\I»KR. of i on the point to which t 1 I. It is not They arc already I blazoned on the tomb of tliat hateful tyranny wh They had been discarded from the e< the popularity of the President had blinded the ruuTtitt] : i none of the northern faction, inlta of rapacity and fanaticism, hounded on byambi- E nth, had restored them to public favor. Tli saion must come, and that, come when it might, their infl dd 1 e proportioned to their past disgraci -. Pn Burn- ing "ii this, they had consulted much together. Not only had they ■ fhed provisionally the plan of a southern confederacy, hut they had i measures to regulate their relations with foreign powers. One of r number, travelling abroad, had been instructed to prepare the way for the negotiation of a commercial treaty with great Britain. One of the first acts of the new c ofederacy was to invest him publicly with the diplomatic character, and it wasat once understood that commercial arrangements would be made, the value of which would s< oure to the infant League all the advantages of an alliance with that powerful ca- tion. The designation of a gentleman, as minister, who had so long, without any ostensible motive, resided near the Court of St .lames, left no doubt that all things had been already arranged. The treaty soon r j iromulgated, therefore, surprised nobody, except indeed that ft of its details were too obviously beneficial to both parties to have | 1. Not only in war, but in peace, do nations sc< m to think it important to do good to themselves than to do harm to each other. The s\-tem of free trade now established, which has restored to the lib the full benefit of its natural advantages, and made it once more the most flourishing^ and prosperous country on earth; which has mul- tiplied the manufactories of Great Britain, and increased her revenue by an increase of consumption and resources, even while some bracchet ,ue wore cut oft*'; and which, at the same time, has broken the r of her envious rival in the North, and put an end for ever to that artificial | rosperity engendered by the oppression and plunder of hern States; is such an anomaly in modem diplomacy, that the rulers at Richmond, or even at Washington, might well have been Bur- st it. But the bare nomination of the plenipotentiary waa eSOUgh to 1. avs DO doubt that a treaty was ready for promulgation, and that it- terai must be such as to Becurc the cooperation of Great Bri- tain. Bat, while the leaders of the ruling faction thought of these things, aud anxiously consulted for the preservation of their power, there was THE PARTISAN LEADER. 37 still found among the members of the LegislatureHhe ordinary propor- tion of men who think of nothing but the enjoyment of the present moment. Such men are often like sailors in a storm, who, becoming desperate, break into the spirit room, and drink the more eagerly be- cause they drink for the last time. When the devil's "time is short, he has great wrath;" and this point in his character he alwa}\s displays, whether he exhibits himself in the form of cruelty, rapacity, or de- bauchery. The amusements, therefore, of the legislators assembled at Rich- mond suffered little interruption, and the dinner and the galas, the" ball and the theatre, and the gaming-table, with revel, dissipation, and ex- travagance, consumed the time of the servants of the country, and swallowed up the wasted plunder of the treasury. Respected by all, beloved by individuals of both parties, and courted by that to which he was supposed to belong, Mr. Hugh Trevor was an object of the most flattering attention. His house was the favorite resort of such as enjoyed the envied privilege of the entree. His gal- lant and accomplished son was the glass before which aspirant for court favor dressed themselves. The budding youth of his daughter had, for }-ears, been watched with impatient anticipation of the time when her hand might be seized as the passport to present wealth and future honor. Her cousin Delia was not recommended to notice by all these con- siderations; but the most prevailing of the whole was one that made her claims to attention fully equal to those of Virginia. Her father, though in comparatively humble circumstances, could give with his daughter a handsomer dowry than the elder and wealthier brother could afford with his. He was notorious for generosity, and his in- firmities made it probable that he was not long for this world. Delia was therefore universally fegarded as an heiress. Add to this, that -in the affection of her uncle she seemed hardly to be postponed to his own daughter, and it was obvious to anticipate that the same influence which had procured office and emolument for himself and his sons, would be readily exerted in favor of her future husband. It followed, that, whatever were the amusements of the day, whether ball or theatre, or party of pleasure by land or by water, the presence of Delia and Virginia was eagerly sought. The latter, simple and art- less, saw in all who approached her the friends of her father. If she thought at all of political differences, it was only to recognize in nio*t of them the adherents of the man to whose fortunes he had so long attached himself, and in whose fortunes he had flourished. To all. h< r welcome was alike cordial and her smile always bright > THE PARTISAN LEADS. Witl. Delia, tl ^ lb far different Much more i I than .-in with tli.' politics of the day, she W8J aware that her father i many that the met On BOme of those who Bought her favor, she knew tliat he looked*with detestation and seorn. To m as cold ami repulsive as a real lady can i ■■ it her- be to one who approaches her as i gentleman in genteel society. The height of the modem mode would, indeed, have eounteiiai such easel that sort of negative insolence, the practice of which i- re- garded as the most decisive indication of high breeding. But she had I in a different school. She had been taught that, m i self n sp< d a the Brat duty of woman ; and that the only inviolabl guard ff Becondar Bat her fortune was not to be overlooked. Then, should hi like to meet their long deserved reward, she could be nt as the niece of Mr. Hugh Trevor, the tried and riend of tin President Should the cold ingratitude "!' his superior- at length drive him into the opposition for advancement, he ire of being well received as the Bon-in-law of a patriot so di Bernard Trevor. Utrinque paratxu, could he secure the hand of Delia, he Pelt -urc that he must win, let the cards fall as Saving taken this view of 'the subject, and examined it in all its bearings, he made ap to Delia with a directness which stai confidence that offended her. Hut the gentleman had little to mend him to the favor of the fair. Bis] rson was awkward, and dis- figured by a mortal stoop. His Features, at once diminutive and i lar, were either shronded with an expression of solemn importan set off by a smile of yet more offens mplacenoy. His manners r of OOnoeit, alternately pert and and hi though abortn tempts at wit. and a sort of chopt kogio, elaborately employed in prov- ing, bj tible arguments, what nobody ever pretended to deny. . I 1 . en taught, by his learned and astute father, to lay his foun- dations so deep that his arguments and the patience of his hearers were apt to be exhausted by the time he got back to the surface of things. Yet he reasoned with grosil precision, and rarely failed to estahlish, as untjuestionahle, thenfttmtiej from which other men commonly begin, to >n. talent, and this use of it, arc more applauded by the world than one would think. Men like to be confirmed in their opinions ; and, tin fewer and more simple these may be, the more grateful are they for any thing that looks like a demonstration at their truth. To a man arithmetic only extends to the profound maxim "that two and two make four," how gratifying to find a distinguished man « ling to prove it by elaborate argument ! Bat ladies have little taste for these things, and still less for the harsh dogmatism and fierce denunciations of hostile, but absent politi- cians, with which Mr. P. Baker, the younger, occasionally varied bis THE PARTISAN LEADER. 41 discourse. To Delia, therefore, the gentleman, in and of himself, and apcrt from all extrinsic considerations, was absolutely disagreeable. His first advances drove her within the safe defences of female pride and reserve. But when the manifest audacity of his pretensions led her to think of him as the supple slave of power, as one who had prostitu- ted himself to the service of his master, with an eagerness which con- demned his zeal to be its own reward, her disgust increased to loath- ing, and her pride was kindled into resentment. Without showing more of these feelings than became her. she showed enough to make her the object of his insolent and malignant hatred. But she was for- tified by her position in a family which he dared not offend, and his paltry malice found vent in such allusions to the politics of the day as he knew must wound her. Things were about coming to this pass*, when Douglas Trevor ar- rived. The first time he met Mr. Baker in company with his cousin, he saw a disposition on his part to pay attentions which were obviously annoying to her. Both duty and inclination impelled him to come to her relief; and, in doing this, he awakened the jealousy and incurred the displeasure of the gentleman. But these were feelings he had no mind to display toward one who wore a sword, and especially toward the son of a man so influential at Washington as Mr. Hugh Trevor. He accordingly drew off, in morose discomfiture, and Delia, relieved from his offensive attentions, felt that she owed her deliverance to her cousin. He was, of course, bound to occupy the place at her side from which he had driven Baker; and she was bound to iequite the service by making the duty he had imposed on himself as little irksome as possible. She exerted herself to be agreeable, and succeeded so well, that Douglas went to bed that night in the firm belief that he had never passed a more pleasant evening, or seen a girl of more charming manners than Delia. This circumstance led to a sort of tacit convention, which established him in the character of her special attendant, in all parties where Mr- Baker made his appearance. By an easy progress, this engagement was extended to all societies and all places. He knows little of human nature who needs to be told the natural consequences of these things. But, leaving the reader to form his own judgment, and to anticipate . such result as he may, my present business is with the repulsed and irritated Baker. Though it consoled his pride and self-love to impute his discomflturos, not to any absolute dislike of himself, but to a prefer- ence for another, there was nothing in that preference to soothe 1 sentracnt. As Douglas had, in the first instance, come somewhat cava- TBI PART18AM I wishes, he, perhaps, had rea- . Bpleasure against him. l>ut, as it might be quite give vent to hi;* feelings in that direction, they we*a careful '" -— i s < - 1 > assaults on those of the lady, ►in might m.t observe, or might think it unwise t<> uotioe, did his malice jndti . 1 1 - - 11 the astounding intelligence reached Rich- that a diplomatic agent from the State of South Carolina had been long secretly entertained at the Court <>l' Bt Janus, and that he tpposed to have negotiated an informal arrangement for acorn- ty between that government and the confederacy then form- ing in the Smith. Something was rumored as to the terms of the con- teniplated treaty, which filled the -whole northern faction in Virginia iiiation. Itwas feared that that State could nut he w ith- ■iii joining the Southern League, except hy force, and that, in ■ force, she would be backed, not only by the Southern : by the power of Great Britain THE FARTISAN LEADER. 43 CHAPTER IX. " If I had known lie had been so cunning of fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I had fought with liim." — Old Play. It was now the month of February, and a pleasant day had tempted our young people to a jaunt of amusement to the head of the falls. Mr. Baker, stealing away from his duties as a legislator, was one of the party. Repulsed by Delia, he was beginning an attempt on the heart of Virginia,, of whose loyalty, as the daughter of Mr. Hugh Trevor, he could entertajn no doubt. Here his reception would have been little better than with the other, had not Virginia been held in check- by a respect for the supposed opinions of her father. Born at the very moment when the good old gentleman was in the act of making up his mind to sacrifice the sover- eignty of his native State to the necessity of preserving the Union, he seemed to seize on the opportunity of compensating the impiety to which he felt himself driven, by giving to his infant daughter the name he had so long cherished and honored. It was a moment of one of those relcntings of the heart, in which nature asserts her suprema- cy, and compels its homage to those whom we have been accustomed to reverence and obey. If even the prodigal or the traitor be subject to be so affected, how much stronger must be such an impulse in the mind of a pure and upright man, impelled by ?l sense of duty to his coun- try to dishonor her venerated name. This poor tribute was as the kiss of peace with which the executioner implores the pardon of some illus- trious victim of State policy, who is about to bleed under his hand. Had he yielded to his feelings, he would have taken up the self-accu- sing lamentation of the returning prodigal. But his sense of duty was deep and abiding, and was always most sure to command his exact obe- dience when the duty was most painful. He could not doubt the cor- rectness of a conviction, which even his cherished devotion tohis na- Mtc could not made him shake off entirely. In such a case, to doubt was, with him, to be convinced. But the name thus bestowed upon his daughter wae not without an effect on her mind. She knew little of politics, but, from her very infancy, self-love had made her jealous of the honor of the State whose name she bore. The name itself waa a spell of power on the heart of H Tnn tai.ti.-an LEAD] 1 her to lore her ( osin before she knew her. [heir lir>t acquaintance, end ha I r, ami r in intellectual power, I, on wittingly, r the mind <>t* Virginia which inefined her to lis- mld be ai -' the oaorper'a claim loa 1 by the authority 0/ the Stat.'. more than a year past, Mr. Tr< ror had himself begun to doubt rmer opinions. Doubting, he was silent, but be M unwilling to subject bis daughter 60 the action <>f her jorous mind. For many years, be would as scon bate children t" the contagion <>i the plague, as permit them t<» vi>it th< '.r uii.'.,'. During the last summer he bad suffered Arthur and Virgii i a month with him ; ami l.e was not Bony to observe thai tin former came home with deeper thoughts than lie cbose to ex- Of their love and admiration of their uncle neither made any He was not only unlike their father, but so unlike an . man, that be bad been a curious Btudy to them during their whole visit dity of his thoughts, and the vividness with whioh he ex- I them, afforded thi ; amusement lie bad that faculty of making truth look like truth, in the exhil iti n of which the young mind so much delights. Then he was bo frank, so ard< at, and withal so kind, that it was im] ossible 1 1 know and not to love him. After all this, the reader will nut be like to partake of the surprise of .Mr. Philip Baker, when be found, OH shifting bis battery, that be : much more in favor with Virginia Trevor than with her cou- sin. The consequence was, that whenever he attempted, in company, icb himself to the immediate party <>f these young ladies, he was apt tu find himself a supernumerary. But, as \ irginia bad Bhown no marked dislike to bim, his vaniiy easily adopted the idea that she con- '. bim a-- the property of Delia, lb' took Borne pains to umle- her, and would have been mortified at her unconcern on the oc- easion, bad be not thought some allowance should be made for her in- difference to a man who did but take her as a pit ajit ; and ere be had time to reflect on his situation, the dangerous temptation of ;i ri partes assailed him. Glancing back at the company, id — '• If I may judge by appearanoes, sir, you have the right as well as the inclination to assume that character." Doughu had turned his head, instinctively, as Baker looked hack, and saw that they had rounded a point of rock, and were out of sight. In an instant, he disengaged hi* arm with a push that nearly threw ..ii the bank, and stepping back, glared upon him with an eye that instantly brought the other to his senses. While he stood blenching and cowering under this fierce glance, Douglas rceo\ ered 'f command, and said, with stern calmness — "You had nearly made me forget myself, sir. But we understand each other Siow. Take a turn along the shore to compose yourself. I will wait here for you, and we will return to the company together" I himself on a rock, and the other obeyed mechanically. How he succeeded in recovering his composure is another affair. He the; partisan leader. 47 walked on, and on, and fain would he have followed the course of the river to the mountain cave from which it issues, there to hide himself from the consequences of hia own folly and impertinence. What would he not have given to recall that last speech ? Until then, he was the party aggrieved. Douglas's offence against him had not been so gross as to admit of no explanation ; and, to all appearance, an ami- cable one had been given. The truth might not have come out until he had had time to escape to his constituents; and before the next ses- sion the affair might have been forgotten. But now, Douglas had been insulted, and how he felt, and how he would resent the insult, was aw- fully certain. Baker continued his walk so far, that the girls became uneasy at die absence of the two young men. They begged some of the gentlemen to go in quest of them, but the request was evaded. At last, they rose from their scats on the roeks, and declared surancc that We information is, to my <:< ,- tain laumUdgtf erroneous. This will do. It must be sufficient." " It must do," said Douglas, "whether it will or no. In the mean time, niv deer sir, let me beg that the affair may go no farther, even in the family. Delia alone knows of it, and she only knows as much as may he gathered from that paper, a duplicate of which is hcr's by light 1 therefore beg that you will say nothing about it, even to her." And he did say nothing to her; but Douglas observed, that that Bight) when she held up her lip for his paternal kiss, the kind old gen- tleman gave it with more than his usual tenderness. He held her off, parted the hair from her forehead, gazed earnestly and affectionately u] on her ; and then, kissing her again, bad God bless her, in a voice choked with emotion. From that moment, she was to him as a daugh- ter. * THE PARTISAN LEADER. CHAPTER XI. That proud humility — that dignified obedience. — Burke. The visit of Delia to her uncle now drew to a close, and she prepar- ed for her return home. It was settled that she should be accompanied by Douglas, Arthur, and Virginia, who were to spend a few weeks with her father. On the road, Douglas felt more and more the duty and the privilege of being the protector of his cousin, and, by the time they reached the end of their journey, he had discovered that the latter was as precious as the former was sacred. Some such thought had stolen into his mind while he was yet at home, but that was not the place to mention the subjecMo her; and he had determined to impose upon himself the most scrupulous restraint, until he should have restored her honorably to her father's arms. Two days travel brought them to the residence of Mr. Bernard Tre- vor, on the banks of the Roanoke. They found him laid up with a fit of the gout, which, while it confined him to the house, produced its usual salutary effect on his general health. At the sight of his daugh- ter and her companions, his pain was, for the moment, forgotten; and, flinging away his flannels and crutches, he sprung to his feet and caught her in his arms. At the same time, Arthur and Virginia pressed for- ward for their welcome, which they, in their turn, received. Unfortunately, Mr. Trevor was not the only one who forgot himself at the sight of Delia. Poor old Carlo, starting from his slumbers on the hearth-rug, had recognized his young mistress, and was manifesting his joy at Jicr return with boisterous fondness, when one of his feet .sa- luted the inflamed toe of his master. In an agony, which none but they who have felt it can conceive, the old gentleman sunk into his chair. Here he remained for some minutes, unconscious of everything but his sufferings, while the soft hand of his daughter replaced and Boothed the tortured limb. At length, recovering enough to look around him, his eye fell on Douglas, who stood aloof, waiting to be introduced. Some little tag of military foppery, which always" clings to the undress of an officer, satis- fied Mr. Trevor who he was. Stretching out his hand, he f-aid : "Ah- Dou .las, my dear boy! How glad I am to see you! But I ought not A w THE PARTISAN LEADER. to 1 ' izcd you. tnding back there with your hat under your :inn, as if waiting your turn of presentation at a levoc. Perhaps you don't remember me. I certainly should not have known but for the circumstances under which I see you. But what of that? Wan U nut yesterday you were sitting On my knee, and hanging at my neck? Fes, it was yesterday; though wc have both dreamed ■ it deal since. But dream! mut give way to realities ; so let us \ • rday, and meet to-day as wc parted last night." This singular accoatt had the desired effect, and Donglaa felt, at once, IS if he had been with his uncle all his life. ''You forget, my dear sir," said he, "that T was intercepted by one whose privilege, I am sure, yen would not have nic dispute, though he bai abused it so cruelly'' ■ V' nmean the dog?' 1 said Mr. Trevor. "Poor old Carlo! Come to your master, my poor fellow! No; your privilege shall never be in- vaded. We arc both past service now, and must learn to sympathise with each other. If you cannot understand the nature id' a gouty toe, T hope I shall always have heart enough to understand yours, (jive me a, rough l Oat, OT a black skin, for a true friend; one that will Dot gro any superior advantages that I may pOSSCSS. Tom,'' added he, in a of marked gentlen.es, 'be Ore u low. No, not yourself, old man,' 1 In continued, as the negro whom be addressed moved toward the door; : yon, my good <>ld friend. Just ring the lull, and let one oi' those lazy dogs in the kitchen bring in some wood. Hut why don't you speak to jonr master Douglas? 1 am rare yon remember what cronies you when you were teaching him to ride." '• I'm mighty proud to BOS yon, BUT," said the old man, taking the of- fered hand of Douglas, with an air of affectionate humility. "But it was not my place, sir." added he, answering his master's words, "to k first. I made sure master Douglas would remember me after % while."* i \ ■■• the forbearance of all eritioa, who have taken their ideas of* Vjr- 1 -ar Thompson, "r any -mh caricatures, for ^iviii^ I . and liis own pronunciation of thorn. It is not my fault if bni little peculiarity in his phraseology. His langnatja was never elc- d. But In- ipoke better than the peasantry though he said -Mine things that a white man would not say; perba] be had Mine feelings to which the white man it a stranger. A white man, for example, would have said he was glad to see Douglas, whether he were so or not. Old Tom said In; was proud to see liim, is proud to recognize his former j>ei in the handsome and grace- ful youth before liiin. THE PARTISAN LEADER. 56 "I do remember you, Tom," said Douglas, cordially, "and many a time, on parade, have I been thankful to you for teaching mc to hold my reins and manage my horse." "Ton will find it hard," said Mr. Trevor, gravely, "to convince Tom that you remember him, if you call him by that name. Tom is Delia's daddy, and Lucia's, and Arthur's, and Virginia's daddy, and so will be to the day of his death. If ever he ceases to be your daddy, too, Doug- las, I shall move to reconsider the vote that we just now passed unani- mously." " It is a vice the northern air has blown upon me," said Douglas, blushing. "I felt the truth of what you said just now, and am not more sure of being affectionately remembered by any that I used to know, than by my good old daddy." Mr. Trevor now requested Tom to see that the horses of the travel- lers were properly attended to; and the negro left the room. " What a graceful and gentlemanly old man !" said Douglas, looking after him. "His manners," said Mr. Trevor, "are exactly suited to his situation Their characteristic is proud humility. The opposite is servile sulki- ness, of which, I suspect, Douglas, you have seen no little." "I have seen nothing else," said Douglas, "among the servants in the North. If the tempers of our negroes were as ferocious, and their feelings as hostile, we should have to cut their throats in self-defence in six months." u I a.n glad," said Mr. Trevor, " that you have not learned to sacri- fice your own experience to the fanciful theories of the Amis dc Noirs, at least on this point. The time, I hope, will come when you will see, if you do not already, the fallacy of all 4 their cant and sophistry on the subject of domestic slavery. You will then bless God that your lot has been cast where the freedom of all, who, in the economy of Providence, are capable of freedom, is rendered practicable by the particular form in which the subordination of those who must be slaves is cast." "I am not sure," said Douglas, "that I exactly comprehend you." '• Perhaps not," replied the uncle. "And that reminds me that I am trespassing on forbidden ground. Just there, the differences of opinion between your father and myself commence; and from that point ifiey diverge so much, that I do not feel at liberty to speak to his son on cer- tain topics." "Hut why not, my dear sir? Y £| any on.-, then, maintain," asked Douglas, "that two opinions whieb impose oonflioting duties can both be right?" "I shall not answer that," answered Mr. Trevor. "You shall answer it yourself. You are a soldier of the I'nited States. Suppose an in- surrection. What, in that OSSO. would be your duty?" . " To fighl against the rebels," replied Douglas, promptly. " And, thinking as you do, so it would be. Now, suppose your father to be one of those same rebels." "I see," said Douglas, after a pause, in which he colored to the tips of his ears, " I see that you are right." " In what '!" asked Mr. Trevor. " In maintaining," he replied, "that two opinions which prescribe conflicting duties, may both be right." " Hut 1 have not said so," replied Mr. Trevor, smiling. " Uut you have proved it." " I am not quite sure of that. Here is another summary and simple looking argument, on a difficult question. My own rule is, 'distrust and r< -esaminc.'" THE PARTISAN LEADER. 57 He stopped short, while Douglas looked at him with a perplexed and wondering eye. He at length went on — " I shall not break faith with your father by teaching you to think. You have the propositions — and you see there is fallacy somewhere. Analyse the subject, and find your own result. But come, my boy — this is poor entertainment for a hungiy traveller. Your aunt has some dinner for you by this time, and here is Tom come to tell us so. Come, give me your arm, and help 'me to the dining room." " My dear father," said Delia, " that is my office." " Both ! both ! my children !" exclaimed the old man, throwing away his other crutch. " Why, now I am better off than a man with sound limbs." • • In the dining room Mrs. Trevor awaited them. A hasty greeting was all she bad allowed herself on the first arrival of the party ; after which, she betook herself to the duties of housewifery and hospitality. They found her standing at the back of her chair ; and Douglas, as he entered, thought he had rarely seen a more striking figure. She was matronly in her dress and air ; tall, majestic, and graceful in her per- son ; and with a countenance beaming with frankness, animation and intelligence. She had been a beautiful woman, and, being much younger than her husband, was still handsome. She extended her hand to Douglas as he entered, and placing him near her, so mingled the courtesy due to a stranger with the cordiality of an old acquaint- ance, as to make him feel all the comfort and ease of home, without ever losing a sense of that bland influence, which, while it secures de- corum, imposes no constraint. " Would you have known me ?" asked the lady. " I cannot say I could have identified you," he replied, " but I should have recognized you as one I ought to know." " And your uncle ?" " Not by sight, certainly," said Douglas. " I remember him too dis- tinctly for that. He is too much altered. But I know him by his manners and conversation. These I never could forget; and these are the same, and peculiarly his own. I remember how he used to exer- cise my mind, and make me talk, and yet never let me talk without thinking." " And has he bce'n at the old game already ?" " 0, yes ! lie has set me to revising and doubting what have seemed to mc to be self-evident truths, and proposes to leave me to work out the problem by myself. What conclusion I am to settle in, I cannot gpeMj but, from present appearances, I shall not be surprised if I go 58 Mil PARTISAN LEADER. away convinced that I have seven fingers on one hand, and hut two on iior — nine in all." •• H- hap not touched on politics?" •• 0, no ! That subject he has tabooed, and I am truly sorry for it ; fur while 1 new desire to waver in my allegiance to the Dotted States, 1 am anxious to understand what may become me as a Virginian. If 1 may judge from what my father says, there is no man from whom I could learn more on that subject than my uncle." '■ His lesson would not be a short one," ^replied the lady. " II is >•. inni.uidments on behalf of the State are only second in authority with him to the decalogue; and the}* do not lie in as small a compass. Hut he fears he might teach you some things your father would wish you to unlearn." " I am not so sure of that," answered Douglas. u I meant to say that there is no man whose judgment my father holds in higher respect." " That is something new," said Mrs. Trevor, coloring, and with a countenance to which there was some expression of wounded pride. I should be glad to be convinced of that." '• Why should you doubt it ?" added the young man, with surprise. u Because it has not always been so; and, as I claim a woman's plirUege to, admire my husband above all men, I have felt hurt at it. Your uncle thinks so highly of his brother's wisdom and prudence, that he has always borne to be thought the reverse of him in these things, and quietly submitted to be condemned as a heretic on account of opinions, of the correctness of which he found it impossible to doubt." "There may have been something of tins," said Douglas, earnestly; " but I assure you it il noi SO BOW. 1 do believe one motive with my father for wishing me to make this visit, is his desire that 1 should hear both sides; and have the benefit of the SBgaeitj and manly sense which he imputes to my uncle." " He will have to tell him so plainly," replied Mrs. Trevor, u before he will open his mouth to you. Hut I shall be less scrupulous — and I am m daily expectation of a friend whose frankness will have you no cause to regret your uncle's reserve." « Who ii that '." asked Doughs. " I shall leave you to find out. You will see many here who feel and think with your uncle, and who come to him to compare thoughts and concert messunw, Amoiiir them is the man on whom the desti- nies of his country depend." THE PARTISAN LEADER. 59 » " The only man of whom I should predicate that," replied Douglas, with some quickness, " is one who, I am very sure, never comes here.'* u There is a good and an evil principle," said Mrs. Trevor. " Events alike depend on both. You speak of the one of these — / t>f the other." ' Douglas felt his cheek burn at this remark. His aunt, observing it, added — " You see, you will run the risk of adopting dangerous here- sies if you encourage us to be too unreserved. But your candor and good sense may be trusted to lead you* right, without our guidance." Douglas felt the truth of the lirst part of (his speech. Whether any thing more than a complimentary turn of expression was meant in the closing words, he did not know. But if the lady intended to express a hope that he might become a convert to the disorganizing notions which he feared were prevalent in her circle, he took the liberty to doubt whether h-er anticipations would ever be realized. He now changed the conversation, and determined to take a second thought before he invited discussions which might mislead him. He found he had to do with active and vigorous minds, against which he might, perhaps, vainly strive to defend himself, even with truth on«his side. He resolved, therefore, to yield to the inclination which led him to pass his time with his young friends, and chiefly with Delia. 00 THE PARTISAN LEADER. CHAPTER XII. My heart, sweet hoy, -hall be thy MpntobrOj I'll beat thee hence, and let ihern li^ht thai will, Foi I have murdered BVhere I wouhl not kill. SHAKSPRARK. 1 SHOULD detain the reader with matters not worthy of a place in this grave history, if I descended to the particulars of the intercourse between Douglas Trevor and his charming cousin. It is enough to that he found himself, daily, more and more happy in her society; and was more and more convinced that it was a necessary ingredient in his happiness. It was not long before he concluded that he would - not live without her; and, having told her so, was referred by her to her father. Nothing doubting that his communication would be favorably re- ceived, Douglas was eager to break the matter t«> his nnole, and ask bis approbation of his suit. To his utter amasement, the old gentleman, ming an air at once serious and tender, said : " My dear boy, had I the world to choose from, there is no man t<> whom 1 would sooner trust my daughter's happiness. But circumstances forbid your union. I speak advisedly and sadly. I have seen what was passing. I antici- pated this oommunieation, and deliberately decided en my answer." "For d's sake, sir!" exclaimed Douglas, trembling with im- patience, " what do you mean ; and what is your answer?" " I mean," said Mr. Trevor, -'and my answer is, that circumstances forbid it." " Surely," said Douglas, "your objection is not to the nearness of blood." "lam not addicted to any such exploded superstition," said Mr. Trevor. " But my daughter must never marry one that wears that drem " I like my profession, sir," said Douglas, but will change it without hesitation." •(Ill forbid!" replied the old gentleman. "I would not have you d" s<>; and were you so inclined, it would not be in your choice." 'J 1 (an resign when 1 will, and my resignation will certainly be ac- cepted." THE PARTISAN LEADER. 61 u Still you would be a soldior, and you must be a soldier. Peace is not in our choice, and the time is at hand when every man, who can wield a sword, must do so." " I do not understand you, sir," said Douglas in amazement. " I am aware you do not. It is time you should. You have now a right to understand me ; and I have a right to be understood by you. We arc on the eve of what you will call rebellion. I shall call it a war of right and liberty. I am old and infirm • but I am not al- ways imprisoned by the gout; and nothing but physical inability shall keep me from sustaining, with my sword, a cause that I have always advocated with tongue and pen. It will be bad enough to meet the sons of my brother in arms against my country. That I can- not help. But it is in my choice whether I shall thus meet my daughter's husband. That must never be.' He ceased to speak, and the young man, dizzy with mixed thoughts and feelings, sat gazing at him in mute astonishment. At length, start- ing up, he was about to leave the room, when the old gentleman held out his hand. Douglas gave his, and his uncle, pressing it cordially, went on: "My son," said he, "you arc the only male of my race in whom I recognize any thing which tolls me that the same blood flows in our veins. We cannot help the selfishness that disposes us to love those who resemble us even in our faults. It might be better for you not to resemble me, and perhaps I ought to wish that you did not. But I cannot. I find it easier to forget that jou are not my son, and to love you as if you were. The hope that you may yet be so, is hardly less dear to me than to you. That you will be so, if ' you outlive the envy' of those aw T ful events which shall open your eyes, I can hardly doubt. But these things must do their work. The convictions which shall make you throw off the badges of allegiance to him whose sworn foe I am, must come of themselves. While ypu wear them, I am bound to respect your honor by saying nothing to shake your faith in him, and to his cause. In the mean time, I can but hope for the best. I do hope; and I invite you to hope. But for the present, hope must be our all. Things must remain as they are until it pleases God so to order events as to make your sense of duty to your country con- sistent with that which, as my daugh cr's husband, you will owe to her and to her father." I leave the reader to imagine the consternation of Douglas at this decisive condemnation of his proposed plan of happiness, and at the astounding intelligence that accompanied it. He saw plainly that his uncle spoke not conjecturally, but from certain knowledge; and ho was sure, that under such circumstances, no attachment could tempt Delia TriE PARTISAN LEADER. him. He did not therefore attempt to continne the discussion of th«- subject; }