University of Virginia Library

39. CHAPTER XXXIX.

The man who writes the history of woman's love will find himself
employed in drawing out a tangled skein. It is a history of secret
emotions and vivid contrasts, which may well go nigh to baffle his
penetration and to puzzle his philosophy. There is in it a surface
of timid and gentle bashfulness concealing an underflow of strong
and heady passion: a seeming caprice that a breath may shake or
a word alarm; yet, all the while, an earnest devotion of soul which,
in its excited action, holds all danger cheap that crosses the path of
its career. The sportive, changeful, and coward nature that dallies
with affection as a jest, and wins admiration by its affrighted coyness;
that flies and would be followed; that revolts and would be
soothed, entreated, and on bended knee implored, before it is won;
that same nature will undergo the ordeal of the burning plough-share,
take all the extremes of misery and distress, brave the fury
of the elements and the wrath of man, and in every peril be a
patient comforter, when the cause that moves her is the vindication
of her love. Affection is to her what glory is to man, an impulse
that inspires the most adventurous heroism.

There had been for some days past in Mildred's mind an
anxious misgiving of misfortune to Butler, which was but ill
concealed in a quiet and reserved demeanor. The argument of
his safety seemed to have little to rest upon, and she could perceive
that it was not believed by those who uttered it. There rose upon
her thoughts imaginings or presentiments of ill, which she did not
like to dwell upon, but which she could not banish. And now
when Horse Shoe had told his tale, the incidents did not seem to
warrant the levity with which he passed them by. She was afraid
to express her doubts: and they brooded upon her mind, hatching
pain and secret grief. It was almost an instinct, therefore, that

directed her resolve, when she announced her determination to go
in person in quest of Cornwallis, and to plead Butler's cause herself
to the British general. Her soul rebelled at the gross calumny
which had been invented to bring down vengeance upon Arthur's
head; and she had no thought of thwarting the accuser's wickedness,
but by an appeal to the highest power for that redress which
an honorable soldier, in her opinion, could not refuse, even to an
enemy. As to the personal hazard, inconvenience, or difficulty of
her projected enterprise, no thought of either for a moment
occupied her. She saw but her purpose before her, and did not
pause to reckon on the means by which she was to promote it.
She reflected not on the censure of the world; nor on its ridicule;
nor on its want of sympathy for her feelings: she reflected only
on her power to serve one dearer to her than a friend, upon her
duty, and upon the agony of her doubts. If her father had been
at hand she might have appealed to him, and, perhaps,
have submitted to his counsel; but he was absent, she knew not
where, and she was convinced that no time was to be lost. “Even
now, whilst we debate,” she said, “his life may be forfeited to the
malice of the wicked men who have ensnared him.”

Her conduct in this crisis is not to be weighed in the scale
wherein the seemly and decorous observances of female propriety
are ordinarily balanced. The times, the occasion, and the peculiar
position of Mildred, take her case out of the pale of common
events, and are entitled to another standard. She will be judged
by the purity of her heart, the fervor of her attachment, and her
sense of the importance of the service she was about to confer.
And with the knowledge of these, I must leave her vindication to
the generosity of my reader.

When the morning came and breakfast was over, the horses
were brought to the door. Henry was active in all the preliminary
arrangements for the journey, and now bestirred himself with an
increased air of personal importance. Isaac, a grey-haired negro,
of a sedate, and, like all his tribe, of an abundantly thoughtful
length of visage, appeared in a suit of livery, ready booted and
spurred for his journey. A large portmanteau, containing a
supply of baggage for his mistress, was duly strapped behind his
saddle, whilst a pair of pistols were buckled upon the pummel.

Henry's horse also had all the furniture necessary to a campaign;
and the young martialist himself, notwithstanding his sister's disapproval,
was begirt with a sword-belt, from which depended a
light sabre, with which he was in the habit of exhibiting himself
in the corps of the Rangers. His bugle hung gracefully by his
side, and his carbine was already provided with a strap to sling it
across his back. Stephen Foster was lost in wonder at these
sudden preparations, of the import of which he could gain no
more intelligence from Henry than that a movement towards the
army was intended, of a portentous character.

Horse Shoe sat quietly in the porch looking on with a professional
unconcern, whilst his trusty Captain Peter, bearing a pair of
saddle-bags, now stuffed with a plethora of provisions, slouched his
head, in patient fixedness, waiting the order to move. A bevy of
domestics hung around the scene of preparation, lost in conjectures
as to the meaning of this strange array, and prosecuting an inquiry
to satisfy themselves, with fruitless perseverance.

When Mildred appeared at the door she was habited for her
journey. The housekeeper, an aged dame, stood near her.

“My travel, Mistress Morrison,” she said, addressing the matron,
and at the same time putting a letter into her hand, “I trust will
not keep me long from home. If my father should return before
I do, be careful to give him that. Mr. Foster, you will not forget
your promise,” she added, as she delivered the second letter, which,
notwithstanding her own expedition, she had prepared for Butler,
in the hope that opportunity might favor its transmission by
Stephen.

“The gold,” said Stephen, putting his hand in his pocket; “you
will want it yourself, Miss Mildred, and I can do without it.”

“Never mind that,” interrupted Mildred. “Keep your promise,
and I hope to be able to reward you more according to your
deserts.”

“Heaven and the saints protect you, Miss Mildred!” said the
housekeeper, as the lady bade her farewell. “You leave us on
some heavy errand. God grant that you come back with a gayer
face than you take away!” Then turning up her eyes, and raising
her hands, she ejaculated, “This is an awful thing, and past my
understanding!”

Mildred took leave of the rest of the group around the door,
and was soon in her saddle. This was a signal for the rest to
mount, and as Stephen Foster delivered Henry his rifle, the latter
took occasion to whisper in the hunter's ear—

“It is not unlikely, Steve, that we may meet each other again
over here in Carolina; so remember to make inquiries for us as
you go along, and tell the men I hope to join them before they
fire one shot in spite. But mum, Steve, not a word about our
route.”

Stephen shook hands with his young comrade; and Henry,
seeing that the rest of the party had already left the door and
were some distance down the hill, called out with an elated tone of
good humor—“Farewell, Mrs. Morrison, and all the rest of you!”
and putting spurs to his horse galloped off to join his sister.

The route pursued by the travellers lay due south, and during
the first three or four days of their journey they were still within
the confines of Virginia. To travel on horseback was a customary
feat, even for ladies, in those days of rough roads and scant means
of locomotion: and such a cavalcade as we have described was calculated
to excite no particular inquiry from the passer-by, beyond
that which would now be made on the appearance of any party of
pleasure upon the high-roads, in the course of a summer excursion.
Mildred experienced severe fatigue in the first stages of her journey;
but by degrees this wore off, and she was soon enabled to
endure the long day's ride with scarcely less inconvenience than
her fellow-travellers.

At that period there were but few inns in these thinly-peopled
districts, and such as were already established were small and but
meagrely provided. This deficiency was, in some degree, compensated
by the good will with which the owners of private establishments
in the country received the better class of travellers, and the
ready hospitality with which they entertained them. Henry took
upon himself to obtain information of the gentlemen's seats that
lay near the route of his journey, and to conduct the party to them
whenever his sister's comfort required better accommodation than
the common inns afforded.

As our travellers had thus far kept along that range of country
which lay immediately under the mountains, they were not annoyed

by the intense heats which, at this season, prevailed in the lowlands.
The weather, ever since their departure, had been uncommonly
fine, and as is usual in this district, the month of September Irad
brought its cool, dewy nights, whilst the early hours of the morning
were even marked by a little sharpness, almost approaching to
frost. The effect of this on Mildred was to recruit the weariness
of travel, and better enable her to encounter the noon-tide fervors
of the sun; and she had so far endured the toils of her journey
with an admirable spirit. Actual trial generally results in demonstrating
how much we are prone to exaggerate in advance the
difficulties of any undertaking. Accordingly, Mildred's present
experience strengthened her resolution to proceed, and even communicated
an unexpected increase of contentment to her feelings.

On the fifth day the party crossed the river Dan, and entered
the province of North Carolina. A small remnant of Gates's shattered
army lay at Hillsborough, at no great distance from the
frontier; and as Mildred was anxious to avoid the inquiry or molestation
to be expected in passing through a military post, she resolved
to travel by a lower route, and Horse Shoe, therefore, at
her suggestion, directed his journey towards the little village of
Tarborough.

Cornwallis, it was understood, since the battle of Camden, had
removed his head-quarters into the neighborhood of the Waxhaws,
some distance up the Catawba, where he was supposed to be yet
stationary. The whole country in the neighborhood of either
army was in a state of earnest preparation; the British commander
recruiting his forces for further and immediate operations—the
American endeavoring to reassemble his feeble and scattered auxiliaries
for defence. At the present moment, actual hostilities between
these two parties were entirely suspended, in anxious anticipation
of the rapidly approaching renewal of the struggle. It
was a breathing time, when the panting combatants, exhausted by
battle, stood sullenly eyeing each other and making ready—the one
to strike, the other to ward off another staggering blow.

The country over which Mildred was now to travel was calculated
to tax her powers of endurance to the utmost. It was a
dreary waste of barren wilderness, covered with an endless forest
of gloomy pine, through which a heavy, sandy road crept in lurid

and melancholy shade. Here and there a miserable hut occurred
to view, with a few ragged inmates, surrounded by all the signs
of squalid poverty. The principal population were only to be seen
along the banks of the rivers which penetrated into this region,
some twenty or thirty miles distant from each other. The alluvial
bottoms through which these streams found a channel to the ocean,
were the only tracts of land of sufficient fertility to afford support
to man—all between them was a sterile and gloomy forest.

Still, these regions were not deserted. Bodies of irregular troops,
ill clothed and worse armed, and generally bearing the haggard
features of disease, such as mark the population of a sickly climate,
were often encountered upon the road, directing their wearied
march towards the head-quarters of the republican army. The
rigors of the Southern summer had not yet abated; and it was
with painful steps in the deep sand, amid clouds of suffocating dust,
that these little detachments prosecuted their journey.

Mildred, so far from sinking under the weariness and increasing
hardships of her present toils, seemed to be endued with a capacity
for sustaining them much beyond anything that could have been
believed of her sex. Her courage grew with the difficulties that
beset her. She looked composedly upon the obstacles before her,
and encountered them, not only without a murmur, but even with
a cheerfulness to which she had hitherto been a stranger. The
steadiness of her onward march, her unrepining patience, and the
gentle solicitude with which she turned the thoughts of her companions
from herself, and forbade the supposition that her powers
were over-taxed, showed how deeply her feelings were engaged in
her enterprise, and how maturely her mind had taken its resolution.

“One never would have guessed,” said Horse Shoe, towards the
close of the second day after they had entered North Carolina,
“that a lady so daintily nursed as you was at home, Mistress
Mildred, could have ever borne this here roughing of it through
these piney woods. But I have made one observation, Miss
Lindsay, that no one can tell what they are fit for till they are
tried; and on the back of that I have another, that when there's a
great stir that rouses up a whole country, it don't much signify
whether they are man or woman, they all get roused alike. 'Pon

my word, ma'am, I have seen men—who think themselves sodgers
too—that would be onwilling to trust themselves at this time o'
year through such a dried up piece of pine barren as we have been
travelling over for two days past.”

“You remember the fable of the willow and the oak, Mr. Robinson,”
replied Mildred, smiling; “the storm may bring down the
sturdy tree, but the supple shrub will bend before it without
breaking.”

“I'm not much given to religious takings-on,” said the sergeant,
“but sometimes a notion comes into my head that looks a little
that way, and that is, when God appoints a thing to be done, he
gives them that's to do it all the wherewithals. Now, as Major
Butler is a good man and a brave sodger—God bless him!—it
does seem right that you, Mistress Lindsay,—who, I take on me to
understand enough of your consarns and his'n, without offence, to
say has a leaning towards the major,—I say it does seem right and
natural that you should lend a hand to help him out of tribulation;
and so you see the cause being a good cause, the Lord has given
you both wisdom and strength to do what is right.”

“We owe, sergeant, a duty to our country; and we serve God
and our country both, when we strengthen the hands of its
defenders.”

“That's a valiant speech, young lady, and it's a noble speech,”
said Horse Shoe, with an earnest emphasis. “I have often told
the major that the women of this country had as honest thoughts
about this here war, and was as warm for our cause as the men;
and some of them, perhaps, a little warmer. They could be pitted
against the women of any quarter of the aqueous globe, in bearing
and forbearing both, when it is for the good of the country.”

“Henry is asleep on his horse,” said Mildred, looking at her
brother, who now, jaded and worn with the effort of travel, was
nodding and dropping his head forward, and almost losing his seat.
“What, Henry, brother!” she added, loud enough to rouse up the
young horseman. “My trusty cavalier, are you going to fall from
your horse? Where is all that boasted glorification upon which
you were disposed to be so eloquent only a week ago? I thought
a man on horseback was naturally proud: I fear it was only on
holiday occasions you meant, Henry. Hav'n't you a word for a

sunny day and a dry journey? You lag more like a miller's boy
with his bag of meal, than a young soldier setting out on his
adventures.”

“Ah, sister,” said Henry, waking up, “this is nothing but pine
—pine—and sand, without end. There is no game in the woods
to keep a man on the look-out, except here and there a herd of
wild hogs, that snort and run from us, like a squadron of cavalry,
with their bristles set up on their backs as fierce as the back fin of
a sunfish. There is not even grass to look at: you might see a
black snake running half a mile amongst the trees. And then
there are such great patches of burnt timber, every trunk staring
right at you, as black as thunder. I'm tired of it all—I want to
see the green fields again.”

“And, in truth, brother, so do I: but not until we can bring
merry faces to look upon them. How far are we from Tarborough?”

“We should be drawing nigh to the town,” replied Horse Shoe,
“for you may see that we shall soon be out of these woods, by the
signs of open country ahead. The last squad of sodgers that
passed us, said that when we came to the farms, we shouldn't be
more than five miles from the town, and the sun isn't above an
hour high.”

“In the hope of being soon housed, then, Mr. Robinson, I may
confess to you I am somewhat weary; but a good night's rest will
put me in fair condition for to-morrow's ride again.”

After the lapse of an hour, the party were safely sheltered in a
tolerably comfortable inn at the village: and Mildred, aided by the
sedulous care of Henry, found herself well bestowed in the best
chamber of the house.