Horse-Shoe Robinson: A Tale of the Tory Ascendency

by John Pendleton Kennedy

  CHAPTER IX.

  AN INTRIGUE.

  I must now introduce my reader to the library described in the lastchapter, where, beside a small table covered with papers, and lighted bytwo tall candles, sate Philip Lindsay, with a perplexed and thoughtfulbrow. Opposite to him, in an easy chair, reclined his guest, Mr. Tyrrel;a man whose appearance might entitle him to claim something likethirty-five years; and whose shrewd and intellectual expression ofcountenance, to which an air of decision was given by what might becalled an intense eye, denoted a person conversant with the business oflife; whilst an easy and flexible address no less distinctly announcedhim one habituated to the most polished society. The time of thismeeting corresponded with that of the interview of Arthur and Mildred,beneath the Fawn's Tower.

  It is necessary only to premise that these two had frequently conferredtogether, within the last two or three days, upon the subject with whichthey were now engaged.

  "Sir Henry Clinton does me too much honor by this confidence," saidLindsay. "He overrates my influence amongst the gentlemen of theprovince. Truly, Mr. Tyrrel, I am well persuaded that neither my preceptnor my example would weigh a feather in the scale against the headycourse of this rebellion."

  "We are seldom competent to judge of the weight of our own influence,"said Tyrrel. "I might scarce expect you to speak otherwise than you do.But I, who have the opportunity to know, take upon myself to say thatmany gentlemen of note in this province, who are at present constrainedby the fear of the new government, look with anxiety to you. They reposefaith in your discretion, and would follow your lead. If an excuse benecessary, you might afford them some pretext of pastime to visit theDove Cote. Here you might concert your plan to co-operate with ourfriends in the south."

  "Tis a rash thought," replied Lindsay. "This little nook of woodlandquiet has never yet been disturbed with the debates of men who meditatedthe spilling of blood. God forbid that these peaceful walls shouldhereafter echo back the words that speak of such a purpose."

  "It is to spare the shedding of blood, Mr. Lindsay, and to bring speedypeace to a distracted country that we invoke you and other friends tocounsel. A single battle may decide the question of mastery over theprovince. We are well assured that the moment Lord Cornwallis reachesthe Roanoke"--

  "Cornwallis has yet to win the ground he stands upon," interruptedLindsay: "there may be many a deadly blow struck before he slakes histhirst in the waters of that river: many a proud head may be low beforethat day."

  "Think you, sir," said Tyrrel, rising as he spoke, "that this patchedand ragged levy--this ague-stricken army that is now creeping throughthe pines of North Carolina, under the command of that pompouspretender, Gates, are the men to dispute with his majesty's forces theirright to any inch of soil they choose to occupy? It will be a merry daywhen we meet them, Mr. Lindsay. We have hitherto delayed our campaignuntil the harvest was gathered: that is now done, and we shall speedilybring this hero of Saratoga to his reckoning. Then, following at theheels of the runagates, his Lordship, you may be prepared to hear,within two months from this day, will be within friendly hail of theDove Cote."

  "You speak like a boastful soldier, Mr. Tyrrel. It is not unlikely thathis lordship may foil Gates and turn him back; such I learn to be theapprehension of the more sagacious amongst the continental officersthemselves; but whether that mischance is to favor your incursion intothis province may be worth a soberer study than, I doubt, you have giventhe question. The path of invasion is ever a difficult road when itleads against a united people. You mistake both the disposition and themeans of these republicans. They have bold partisans in the field, andeloquent leaders in their senates. The nature of the strife sorts wellwith their quick and earnest tempers; and by this man's-play of war webreed up soldiers who delight in the game. Rebellion has long sincemarched beyond the middle ground, and has no thought of retreat. Whatwas at first the mere overflow of popular passion has been hardened intoprinciple, like a fiery stream of lava which first rolls in a flood, andthen turns into stone. The delusion of republicanism, like alldelusions, is embraced with more enthusiasm than men ever embrace truth.We deem too lightly of these men and their cause, and we have already,more than once, suffered for the error. When they expelled Dunmore theycommitted treason against the British crown; and they are wise enough toknow that that cup, once tasted, must be drained to the bottom: theyhave, therefore, imbrued their hands the deeper in rebellion. They haveraised their idol of democracy high, and have fenced it about with thepenalties of confiscation and death to those who refuse to bow beforeit: and now they stand pledged to the prosecution of their unnaturalwar, by such a bond of fate as unites mariners who have rashly venturedforth upon a raging sea, in a bark of doubtful strength; their mindsbraced up, by the thought of instant perdition, to the daring effortnecessary to reach their haven."

  "That haven shall they never reach," cried Tyrrel impatiently. "Let theminvoke the aid of their patron devils! We have a spell shall conjurethem back again to their own hell, else there is no virtue in the forgedsteel which these rebels have felt before."

  "The battle is not always to the strong," said Lindsay, "nor is thecraft of soldiership without its chances."

  "If we had listened, my friend," said Tyrrel, "to musty proverbs,Charleston would have this day been in the secure and peacefulpossession of the enemy. All that you say against our present scheme washeretofore urged, though not with such authority, perhaps, against theinvasion of Carolina. And yet how prettily have we gainsaid theprophets! Look at their principal town surrendered--all the countrystrongholds delivered up--the people flocking to our standard forprotection--and the whole province lifting up a voice of gratitude forthe deliverance we have wrought them. They are even now armingthemselves in our behalf, whilst the shattered fragments of the rebelforce are flying to the swamps and their mountain fastnesses. Why shouldnot the same game be as well played in Virginia? Trust me, Mr. Lindsay,your caution somewhat over-leaps that wholesome moderation, which I donot deny is necessary to check a too sanguine reckoning. Come, good sir,lend us a more auspicious counsel. Sir Henry relies much upon yourwisdom, and will not, with good heart, forego your service."

  "Sir Henry has sadly disturbed my repose," returned Lindsay. "To tellthe truth, I have no stomach for this business. Here, I am native to theprovince: I have found old friends separated from me; early associationstorn up by the roots; and the elements which fed my strongest personalattachments poisoned, by this accursed spirit of revolution. I wouldhide my head from the storm and die in these shades in peace."

  "It is not for Mr. Philip Lindsay, nor such as he," replied Tyrrel, "todesert his sovereign in his hour of need."

  "God forgive me for the thought, Mr. Tyrrel, but it remains yet to beproved who most faithfully serve their sovereign; they who counselpeace, or they who push war to its fatal extremes. There lives not a manwithin the realm of England, to whom I would yield in devotion to theglory of our country. Once make it clear to my judgment that we may hopeto regain the lost allegiance of this province by the sacrifice of lifeand fortune, and, dearly as I cherish the welfare of those around me, Iwill obey the first summons to the field, and peril this worthlessexistence of mine in bloody fight. Yea, if need be, I will, with my ownhand, apply the torch to this peaceful abode, and give it over a smokingruin to the cause."

  "I know you too well," replied Tyrrel, "to doubt the sincerity of yourwords. But is it not obvious that the war must inevitably tend to thisfield? Having gained the Carolinas, should we turn our backs as soon aswe have reached the confines of Virginia? On the contrary, does notevery obligation of honor impel us to maintain and protect our friendshere? The conquest of Virginia is an easier enterprise than you deem it.If the continentals can muster ten thousand men, we, assuredly, maydouble that number, counting our provincials levied in the south. Wehave money and all the means of war, whilst this crippled Congress hasdrained from the people their last groat; their wretched troops willdisband from mere want of supplies. They ma
y expect no aid from thenorth; for there Sir Henry will furnish them sufficient motive to stayat home! We come animated by victories, full of mettle and vigor, theymeet us broken by defeats, dejected and torn to pieces by mutiny. Neverdid treason or rebellion array itself with more certainty of punishmentthan this!"

  "I have read," said Lindsay, "how John Hampden resisted the exaction oftwenty shillings of ship money, and for that pittance dared thedispleasure of Charles and his Star Chamber: how he voted theimpeachment of the judges who were supple enough to warrant theimposition: how, in this cause, he drew the sword and threw away thescabbard: how he brought Strafford to the block for levying war againstthe commons of England: and through all that disastrous time, have Iread that Charles promised the cavaliers splendid victories, and deridedthe feeble means of those who were in arms against him; yet Hampdenshrunk not from the struggle. To me it seems there is a strangeresemblance between the congress now sitting at Philadelphia and theparliament of 1640; and this George Washington might claim kindred withJohn Hampden. I will not seek for further likenesses."

  "If I read that history right," replied Tyrrel, "Hampden met his rewardat Chalgrove, and Cromwell turned his crop-eared parliament out ofdoors. We may, perhaps, find a Chalgrove on this continent;--and SirHenry Clinton will most probably save the wiseacres at Philadelphia fromthe intrusion of an upstart Cromwell."

  "It would be too bold in us to count on that, Mr. Tyrrel. I am the enemyof these men and their purpose, but I cannot deem otherwise of them thanas misguided subjects of the king, frenzied by the imagination ofgrievances. They are men of good intellects and honest hearts, misled bypassion. I would that we could give their tempers time to cool. I would,even now, preach moderation and compromise to his majesty's ministers."

  "The die is long since cast," said Tyrrel, "and all that remains now isto take the hazard of the throw. At this moment, whilst we debate,friend and foe are whetting their swords for a deadly encounter on thefields of Carolina. It is too late to talk of other arbitrement.Assuredly, my good friend, our destiny directs us to this province: andthe time has come when you must decide what course you will take. It hasbeen our earnest wish--Sir Henry's letters, there upon the table,anxiously unfold it--to have you up and active in the cause. Why willyou disappoint so fair a hope?"

  "Alas! Mr. Tyrrel,--it is a thorny path you would have me tread. Thinkyou I am the man to win my way through these intricacies? I that live inthe shelter of these woods by sufferance merely--an unmolested outlaw,to speak soberly, whom these fanatics of liberty have forborne for thesake of past acquaintance and present peaceful habits? Am I not girdedround about with the hot champions of independence? Look amongst thesehills--there is not a cabin, not a woodman's hut, no, nor statelydwelling, whose roof defends one friend to the royal cause, but my own.My lips are sealed; my very thoughts are guarded, lest I give room tothink I mean to fly from my neutrality. These papers that lie upon thattable might cost me my life: your presence here, were your purposeknown, might consign me to captivity or exile:--one random word spokenmight give me over to the censures of the power that holds its usurpeddomination in the province. What aid may be expected from one soguarded, fettered, watched and powerless?"

  "And can you patiently," exclaimed Tyrrel, "bow to this oppression? You,a native born freeman of the province--a Briton, nursed in the sunnylight of liberty! Shall your freedom of speech be circumscribed, yourfootsteps be followed by spies and traitors, your very inmost thoughtsbe read and brought up to the censure of the judgment seat? Shall thesethings be, and the blood still continue to run coolly and temperatelythrough your veins! There are ills, Mr. Lindsay, which even your calmphilosophy may not master. But, perhaps, I have mistaken your temper:these evidences, at least, shall not put you in peril," he said, as hetook up the letters from the table and held them over the candle, andthen threw the flaming mass upon the hearth. "That fear, I hope, isremoved; and as for my presence here, one word briefly spoken, and itshall not longer jeopard your safety."

  Lindsay looked fixedly at his companion as he destroyed the papers, andthen said with a stern emphasis--

  "Your duty, sir, is in the field. You have been bred to a professionthat teaches you blind obedience to orders. It is not your part to weighthe right of the cause, nor to falter in the execution of any foulpurpose of blood, so that it come under the name of honorable warfare.Therefore I excuse this unbecoming warmth: but do not presume upon thehazardous nature of your calling, and fancy that it implies morefidelity to the king than the allegiance of his more peaceful subjects.It is a thought unworthy of you that fear of disaster to myself--be itten-fold more imminent than it has yet been--should arrest my step inthat path where my country's honor, or my sovereign's command, bids meadvance."

  "Worthy and excellent friend," said Tyrrel, taking Lindsay's hand, "Ihave done you wrong. I am rash and headlong in my temper, and my tongueoften speaks what my heart disavows. I am little better than a boy, Mr.Lindsay, and a foolish one; I humbly crave your pardon."

  "Speak on," said Lindsay.

  "Then briefly this. Your situation is all that you have described it.Sir Henry is aware of the trial he imposes upon you. He would have youact with the caution which your wisdom dictates; and if it should becomenecessary to speak that word which is to bring the wrath of the rebelsupon your head, remember there is sanctuary and defence under the broadbanner of England. Who so welcome there as Philip Lindsay? Even at thismoment our councils should be tempered by your presence, and it becomesalmost a patriotic duty to pluck you from the seclusion of the DoveCote, and give you a share in the stirring events of the day. Sir, thecountry has a claim upon your services, scarce compatible with the idlecontemplation of this momentous trial of strength."

  Lindsay had advanced to the window, where he remained looking over themoon-lit scene. His companion stood close beside him, and after a shortinterval took his arm, when they stepped forth upon the porch, andsauntered backward and forward, as Tyrrel continued,

  "The government would not be unmindful of the benefits you might confer.There are offices of trust and dignity to be filled in this provincewhen it shall be restored to its allegiance. The highest post would notbe unfitly bestowed, if it should be assigned to you. Sir Henry Clintonbids me speak of that, as of a subject that has already occupied histhoughts. It would give grace and dignity to our resumed authority, tohave it illustrated by the accomplished scholar and discreet statesman,who has, before this, discharged important and difficult trusts with afidelity that has won all men's esteem. And then, my dear sir," he addedafter a pause, "who may say that it shall not be Sir Philip Lindsay, oreven something yet higher?--a coronet would not be an honor unsuitedeven to the wilds of Virginia. His majesty is not slow to discern worth,nor backward to raise it to its proper station. These are toys andbaubles to you, Mr. Lindsay, but they are still worth the seeking. Youhave a son to follow you."

  "Ah! there, Mr. Tyrrel, you touch me more nearly than you imagine. Youremind me by this language that I have also a daughter. As to Henry, hehas a temper and a capacity to make his own way through the world. Ifear not for him--nor would I seek for honors to add to his name. But myMildred! You know not what emotions the thought of her, in thesetroubles, costs me. Who shall guard and defend her, whilst I pursue thiswaylaid road of ambition? What sanctuary would she find under awar-encircled banner, should misfortune assail me, and adversityseparate us? Alas, alas!--that is the spell that, like a net cast overmy limbs, makes me feeble and submissive."

  "I have not been without my solicitude, Mr. Lindsay, on that subject,"said Tyrrel. "You yesterday did me the honor to say that my proposal inregard to Miss Lindsay was not distasteful to you. Could my ardent wishbut be accomplished, she should be placed in safety, assured of ampleand kind protection. If, haply, her thoughts should incline to afavorable reception of my offer, which I would fain persuade myself herreverence for you may render not altogether improbable, when she knowsthat you deem well of my suit, we might remove her to Charleston, wher
e,secure amidst assiduous friends, she would pass the brief interval ofalarm, and leave you free to act on this theatre as your honor and dutymay impel you."

  "Mildred will not leave me," said Lindsay; "my dear daughter wouldsuffer a thousand deaths in the anxiety of such a separation."

  "Then why not accompany her to Charleston?" asked Tyrrel. "Your presencethere would be equally efficient as at head-quarters--perhaps more so."

  "There are other obstacles, Mr. Tyrrel. You talk of Mildred as if herheart were to be disposed of at my bidding. You do not know her. I havelong struggled to subdue an attachment that has bound her to our worstenemy, I fear with little success. I have trusted to time to wear outwhat I deemed a mere girlish liking; but it seems to me the traces fadebut slowly from her heart."

  "I know of whom you speak," said Tyrrel--"that harebrained enthusiastButler. It is a freakish and transient passion, and cannot but fall intoforgetfulness. Miss Lindsay has from circumstances been but littleconversant with the world, and, like an inexperienced girl, has fosteredin solitude a romantic affection. That alone should be a motive toremove her into a busier scene. Besides, this Butler will be himselfforced to give over his hopeless aim--if he has not done so before this:measures are already taken, and I do not scruple to tell you, at myinstance--to confiscate his lands in Carolina to his majesty's use. Theclose of this war will find him penniless, and not unlikely, my dearsir, I myself may be the possessor of his inheritance--I have somepledge of the preemption of these lands at a small fee."

  "It will win you no favor with Mildred," said Lindsay, "to tell her thatyou succeed by such a title to this man's wealth. She is a wayward girl,and is not used to crosses. Her devotion to her purpose, as it sometimesexcites my admiration, gives me, in the present case, cause of profoundalarm."

  "You have spoken to her on this subject?"

  "I have not," replied Lindsay, "and almost fear to broach it. I can,therefore, give you no encouragement. Some little time hence--perhapsto-morrow--I may sound her feelings. But remember, as her father, Iclaim no right beyond that of advice. I shall think myself fortunate if,by giving a new direction to the current of her affections, I can diverther mind from the thoughts of an alliance to me the most hateful--to herfull of future misery. A maiden's fancies are scarcely intelligible evento a father."

  "These subjects require meditation," said Tyrrel. "I will not press themfurther upon your thoughts to-night."

  "Heaven guide us in the way of safety and happiness!" said Lindsay,almost in a whisper. "Good night, my friend."

  When Tyrrel was left alone he strolled forward to the terrace, andpassing round to that end which overhung the cliff, near the door thatopened from the library, he leaned his breast upon the parapet andlooked down upon the wild and beautiful scenery of the valley. Thenight was calm and full of splendor. The tops of the trees that grew inthe ravine, almost perpendicularly beneath his eye, here and therecaught the bright moon-beam where it glowed like silver, and the shades,rendered deeper by the contrast, seemed to brood over a black andimpenetrable abyss. Occasional glimpses were seen of the river below, asit sparkled along such portions of its channel as were not hidden indarkness. The coolness of the hour and the solitude of the spot were notungrateful to the mood of Tyrrel's mind, whilst the monotonous music ofthe river fell pleasantly upon his ear. He was not unheedful of thesecharms in the scene, though his thoughts were busily employed with asubject foreign to their contemplation.

  "Have I advanced," was the tenor of his present self-communion, "thepurpose I have so much at heart, by this night's conference? Could I butengage Lindsay in the issues of this war, so commit him in its purposesand its plots as to render his further residence at the Dove Coteinsecure, then would I already have half-compassed my point. Where couldhe remove but to Charleston? And there, amidst the blandishments offriends and the allurements of gay society, I might make sure ofMildred. There, cut off from all means of hearing of this Butler, andswayed, as she must necessarily be, by the current of loyal feelings,she would learn to detest his foul rebellion, and soon lose her favorfor the rebel. Then, too, the confiscation of his lands--but I am not sosure of that!--she is rich and would make a merit of sharing her fortunewith a man whose brave resistance of oppression--for so, doubtless,Butler persuades her it is--has cost him his wealth: the confiscationshould not seem, at least, to be my doing. Well, well, let her bebrought to Charleston. Any change were better than to remain here, whereanxiety and suspense and solitude nurse and soften her woman'saffections, and teach her to fancy her lover whatsoever her imaginationdelights to think on. Then may not the chances of war assist me? ThisButler, all men say, is brave and adventurous. He should be short-lived.Whatever ill may befall him cannot but work good to me. Yet Lindsay hassuch a sickly caution--such scruple against involving himself in thescheme--I could almost find it in my heart to have it told amongst hisneighbors that he is in correspondence with the enemy. Ha, that would bea bright device!--inform against myself! No, no, I will not abuse hisgenerous nature. Let him come fairly into the fold, and I will guardhis gentle lambkin like a very shepherd. Then if we make him governor ofthe province--that will work well. Mildred will thank me for my zeal inthat good purpose, at least, and I will marry her and possess herestate, if it be only to enable her to be grateful to me. 'Twill be abrave reward, and bravely shall it be won."

  As Tyrrel ruminated over these topics, in the strain indicated by thissketch, the noise of footsteps ascending the rugged stairway of thecliff, and the opening of the iron wicket, but a short distance fromwhere he leaned over the parapet, roused his attention, and put an endto this insidious and selfish communion with his own heart.

  The cause of this interruption was soon apparent. Henry and Mildredentered through the gate, and hurried along the path to that part of theterrace where Tyrrel stood. The shade of the house concealed him fromtheir view until they were within a few paces. "Ha, Miss Lindsay! Youare a late rambler," he said, in a tone of gallantry. "The dampness ofthe valley, at this hour, is not altogether safe; the ague is a soreenemy to romance; beware of it."

  "I am not afraid of the night," replied Mildred, as she increased therapidity of her gait; then, turning immediately upon the porch, shealmost ran, leaving Henry and Tyrrel in pursuit, until she reached thefarthest window which was heard descending the moment she passed throughit into the parlor. When Tyrrel and Henry entered the same apartment,she had disappeared.

  "My sister is not well this evening," said Henry. "We strolled too lateupon the river bank."

  "It was still an over-hasty retreat," muttered Tyrrel to himself. "Itbodes not well for me. I will wager, Henry," he said, raising his voice,"that I can guess what you and your sister have been talking about."

  "Let me hear," said Henry.

  "First," replied Tyrrel, "she repeated some verses from Shakspeare aboutthe moonlight sleeping on the bank--this is just the night forpoetry--and then you both fell to talking sentiment, and then, I'll bebound, you had a ghost story, and by that time, you found you had gottoo far from the house and were a little frightened, and so came back asfast as you could."

  "You are wrong," said Henry. "I have been telling sister Mildred how tobob for eels. Did you know that an eel will never pass a streak ofmoonlight for fear of being found out by the watchers?"

  "Indeed I did not."

  "Well, sister Mildred is wiser than you are; and as I have taught youthat, I will go to bed."

  Tyrrel was again left to resume his meditations, and to hatch his plotsfor invading the peace of the Dove Cote, on his pillow. To thatsleepless pillow he now betook himself.