University of Virginia Library

CONCLUSION.

During the same Christmas holidays, when the cheerful fires burned bright,
and the serene and happy faces around them beamed brighter still, and when
the snow storm had blown over and the sun poured his cheerful rays over the
bright winter scene—on such a day, a plain but elegant carriage and four
stood before the modest and vine-clad dwelling of Dr. Evylin; and sundry
other vehicles of different kinds, were packed with travelling trunks—and
servants, male and female, were marshalled in the rear. The one first described
was, as yet empty, and various groups of idlers stood round the gate
to catch a glimpse of those whom madam rumor assigned as its intended occupants.

As the hour hand pointed to a certain figure on the dial plate, and the last
tones of the bell died away, the Old Doctor and his daughter rose simultaneously
and were locked in each other's embrace. Lee stood by, and any one, (if
not by his dress, at least by his bright face,) might have told that he was the
happy man. Ellen shed tears, as she saw the gittering drops falling fast
from her father's eyes, and as she felt his trembling frame locked in the last
embrace. Lee brought the old gentleman's cocked hat, and handed him his
gloves, and assisted him in wrapping up his feeble frame in a fur-lined cloak,
after which all three entered the carriage and drove to the church.

When they arrived at the door two more bridal parties already awaited
their arrival. We need scarcely say that they consisted of Moore and Kate,
and Hall and Eugenia. There was a serene melancholy upon the faces of
most of those present—especially on those of the brides. Even Kate looked
subdued and rather apprehensive, not that she doubted the man at all, to whom
she was about to plight her faith, but the ceremony was so solemn—the
change so important—the new relations about to be assumed for weal, or wo,
so enduring. These were far more oppressive to her at the altar, than to
Ellen, because the latter had longer and more maturely deliberated upon
them. Eugenia was the most melancholy of the three, but it was pleasing,
and had more relation to things past, than to those future. As Ellen walked
up the aisle, hand in hand with her lover, and her father immediately in the
rear, she really looked charming in her simple white dress, and her slightly
flushed cheeks. Some one in the gallery uttered a sort of exclamation of
applause. Lee looked over his shoulder and discovered Jarvis screwed up into
one corner near the organ, and making a feint with his coon-skin cap, as much
as to say that he would wave it over his head and shout if he dared. Lee
placed his finger on his lip to enjoin silence, which the scout answered by
placing his hand over his mouth. Few observed these things but the actors.

Kate's toilet had been more elaborately and expensively made than Ellen's,
but it was still elegantly simple. A single necklace was the only costly ornament
of jewelry which she wore, and it her mother had worn before her on a
similar occasion. The Rev. Dr. Blair was already at the altar with his book
open before him; all the parties, except Eugenia and Hall, were more to him
like his own children than ordinary parishioners, and the good old man's eye
betrayed his deep sympathy with the parties, and his solemn appreciation of
the importance of the change which was about to pass over so many of his
former pupils. The Governor gave away his own daughter as well as his
young kinswoman, and the old Doctor gave away Ellen.

The bridal ceremony concluded, the whole party drove to the palace where
a cold collation was served up for them preparatory to their departure to their
several places of destination. Lee and Hall with their brides, were to spend
the Chrismas holidays at the country establishment of the former, and old
Doctor Evylin had been persuaded to acompany them for the visit only.

Kate and Moore determined to spend their honey-moon at Temple Farm,
partly because their happiest days of courtship had been spent there, and
partly because it would give such unmeasured delight to their humble dependants,
old June among the number. The old fellow was now—since his
mountain adventures—quite a hero in the kitchen chimney corner, and Kate
had presented him with a new banjo, which, together with his new materials of
song, had quite set him up in business.

Time and death have both set their seals upon these marriages, and contrary
to what is usual at the announcement of such events, we can look forward
at once to their results. We know that they were eminently happy, that the
parties lived long in as much felicity as is ever vonchsafed to mortals on this
earth. With the descendants of Gen. Bernard Moore and Catherine Ann
Spotswood, we have long been intimate, and we can pronounce from a knowledge
so attained, that many of their fine qualities still adonrn, the lives and
characters of those who fill their places.

Ellen and Frank lived with the old Doctor, and fulfilled together to the
utmost those filial duties which the former had made so much the business
and pleasure of her days of single blessedness. The old man lived, to fondle
on his knee several of the descendants of his happy children, and was at last,
full of honors and full of years, buried beneath the stones of that Church,
which he had helped to build, and in which he had so long been a devout and
faithful worshipper. A tablet to his memory, erected by Gov. Spotswood,
and stating on its face the grief of his Excellency at the death of the old
man, still adorns one of the niches of the Church at Williamsburg; at least it
did but a few years ago.

Jarvis moved to the valley of Virginia and built a log cabin on the side,
where he had first fallen in love with that beautiful country. Whether he
married a Squaw or not we have no means of knowing. Those of the same
name inhabiting the same region to this day, have, however, a slight bronze
tinge to their complexion.

Governor Spotswood ruled over the affairs of Virginia for six years from the
date of the Tramontane Expedition, and after his surrendering the Gubernatorial
chair, was appointed Post Master General of His Majesty's Colonies,
and subsequently Commander-in-Chief of an expedition against the Spaniards
in Florida. He, however, died at Annapolis, Maryland, on his way to assume
that command. His mortal remains lie there to this day, unhonored we believe,
even by a tablet.

And now our story is told, and as in duty bound, we would most respectfully
make our bow to those kind readers who have followed us thus far. Before,
however, we bid them farewell, we would gossip with them a little longer—
we would fain prolong our pleasant evening talks by the fire-side, and discourse
still farther of the cocked hat gentry in the old dominion. And were we to
consult our own feelings alone, most assuredly they would be prolonged, and
our story should have engrafted upon it a sequel, or another concerning the
same old time-honored gentry, but when we cast our thoughts back over the
time of our kind readers, which we have already engrossed, we are admonished
that it is indeed time to bring our story to a close. We have now only to
effer some evidence that our story was indeed founded upon the traditions
which have descended to our times. The venerable jurist from whom the
following letter was received has so long adorned the highest judicial tribunals
in Virginia, and is, therefore, so extensively known, that it would be useless to
multiply testimony upon the point to which he alludes; if it were, we could do
so, to any reasonable extent. Many are the persons still living in Virginia,
who have seen with their own eyes these Golden Horse-Shoes. Indeed we
were some time upon the trace of one of the curious relics itself, and were
only prevented from pursuing our researches to a successful issue, by the want

of time and the distance of our present residence, from the scene of the celebrated
adventure.

To the descendants of Governor Spotswood and General Bernard Moore, we
are under many obligations for the materials with which they have so kindly
furnished us. To Colonel Spotswood of Indiana, and Charles Campbell, Esq.
editor of the Petersburg Statesman, in particular, we are greatly indebted, and
we return them our hearly thanks, and only regret that we have not been able to
do greater and more merited justice to the character of their common ancestors.

Western Virginia should erect some enduring monument to the memory of
the far-sighted statesman and gallant soldier who first discovered that noble
country.

The following is a copy of Judge Brooke's letter to the Author: