University of Virginia Library

27. CHAPTER XXVII.

In the meantime, Mr. B— had entered the room,
and, hearing the stranger's voice, placed himself at
the back of his chair, looking on with a playful smile.
He now spoke—

“Have you played out the play?” said he.

The stranger sprung to his feet in a moment, and,
facing B—, caught him by the hand, which he shook
with an energy which seemed to threaten dislocation.
The two then turned off, and left the room together.

“This is most fortunate, my dear sir,” said the
stranger; “but, pray tell me, how happens it that I
find you here?”

“Do you not perceive,” said B—, “that I have
a friend in trouble, and that I am here with him? Did
you not hear the name of Trevor just now?”

“Trevor! No—I did not distinguish the name.
What Trevor? Bernard? Is he here? In trouble?
About what? I came this far to see you both, and
not choosing to go into Virginia, was listening to the
conversation of those fellows, in hopes to find some
one among them whom I could trust to send with a
request that you would both meet me here.”

“Here we both are,” said B—, “and here Trevor
is like to remain for a while. He has been elected
to the Legislature, and they have gotten up a prosecution
against him before that iniquitous court of
high commission at Washington, to hang him, if they
can, or at least to drive him off.”

“Can you think him safe here,” asked the stranger,
“among such mercenary wretches as those we
have just left?”

“O yes! You must not judge of this people by
those muck-worms. The best of the three is a
Yankee tin-pedler, turned merchant. The other two
are the worst specimens of their respective species.
I dare say there are many more like them, but there
are fifty gentlemen of property in this county who
would stand by us; and are ready, in their individual
capacity, to aid us with purse and sword, whenever
we raise our banner.”

“But where is Trevor?” said the stranger. “I
am impatient to see him.”

“We will go to him,” said B—; “but first let me
introduce you to a young friend of ours, whom you
must receive as a friend. He is the sort of man we
should cherish, and, besides that, he has been in
trouble on your account. You must understand that
he was an officer in the army of the United States, and
incurred the mortal displeasure of his master for not
joining one of his minions in abuse of you, when the
news of your successful negotiation with the British
Government was received.

Douglas was now called into the room, and introduced
to the stranger; and the three gentlemen repaired
together to the parlor of Mr. Trevor. A
cordial greeting between the two friends, and a
sprightly conversation on various topics, ensued; but
at length the ladies left the room, and affairs of moment
came under discussion.

“I am come,” said the stranger, “to learn your
plans, and to consult of the best means of affording
such aid as we can. When, where, and how, do
you mean to move?”

“We have carried the elections,” said B—, “so
as to be sure of a majority in the Legislature, if they
can be freed from the presence of the federal army.
But, unless that can be done, our friends here, and
many others, will not be permitted to attend, and the
weaker brethren will be overawed.”

“Of course, then, you will attempt that. What
measures do you propose to take?”

“None that shall attract observation,” said B—.
“It is impossible, at this time, to draw together any
force which might not at once be overwhelmed by
the army at Richmond. We are, therefore, obliged
to lie quiet, and suffer our people to see for themselves
the advantages they are losing. They are
beginning to understand this. They perceive that
your commercial arrangements are making their
neighbors in this State rich, while they can sell
nothing that they make, and are obliged to give

double price for all they buy. The abatement of
duty in the English ports on your tobacco, and the
corresponding abatement of your impost on British
manufactures, is driving trade, money, and even
population, to the South; and nothing but separation
from the northern States can prevent our whole
tobacco country from being deserted. This, of course,
will open the eyes of the people in time, and we
hope, that when the Legislature meets, it may be
practicable to draw together, on the sudden, such a
force as may drive the enemy from Richmond, and
give time at least to adjourn to a place where they
may deliberate in safety.

“Is there any such place in the State?” asked the
stranger.

“I am not aware that there is at this moment, but
such a one must be provided for the emergency,
should it arise.”

“And what means do you propose to use for that
purpose?”

“There is a section of the State,” replied B—,
“where circumstances enable me to exert a powerful
influence, and where, from its localities, a partisan
corps might maintain itself, in spite of the enemy,
and might give so decided a disposition to the surrounding
population, as to establish perfect security
within a pretty extensive district.”

“But is there no danger,” said the southron,
“that such a corps would induce an increase of the

force at Richmond and elsewhere, and so make the
first step in your enterprise more difficult?”

“It would have that effect,” said B—, “were
not the scene of action remote from Richmond, and
unless the operations of the corps were so conducted
as to create no alarm for that place. Of course, there
should be no appearance of concert with this lower
country; and, so far from increasing apprehension
of our ulterior designs, our failure to rally to the banner
of a successful leader might disarm suspicion.”

“Then it seems that all you want is a Marion, a
Sumpter, or a Pickens?”

“We have such a one,” said B—; “and it is
well that you are here with us to aid in consecrating
him to his task. Here he stands.”

As he said this, he laid his hand, solemnly, gently
and respectfully, on the head of the astonished Douglas.

“What, I!” exclaimed he. “For God's sake, my
dear sir, what qualification have I for such service?”

“Courage, talent, address, and military education,”
said B—, with a quiet smile.

“And where should I find men willing to be commanded
by me, in an enterprize which, of course,
supposes the absence of all legal authority?”

“Suppose them provided,” said B—. “Is there
any other difficulty to be removed?”

“I should still be bound to enquire,” said Douglas,
“what good end is proposed, before I could

agree to enter on a course of conduct which nothing
but the most important considerations could justify.”

“All that you have a right to ask, and are bound
to understand clearly. You would have understood
it long before this, but that as long as one shred
remained of the tie that bound you to the army of the
United States, a delicate respect to you imposed
silence on your uncle and myself. You now require
that we show you some prevailing reason why Virginia
should detach herself from the Northern Confederacy,
and either form a separate State, which we do not
propose, or unite herself to the South, which we do.
Is not that your difficulty?”

“It is,” replied Douglas. “I have long been
sensible that there were views of the subject which
my situation had hidden from me, and have frequently
lamented (while I was grateful for) the resolute
reserve which my friends have maintained.

“You must be sensible,” said B—, “that the
southern States, including Virginia, are properly and
almost exclusively agricultural. The quality of their
soil and climate, and the peculiar character of their
laboring population, concur to make agriculture the
most profitable employment among them. Apart from
the influence of artificial causes, it is not certain that
any labor can be judiciously taken from the soil to be
applied to any other object whatever. When Lord
Chatham said that America ought not to manufacture
a hob-nail for herself, he spoke as a true and judicious

friend of the colonies. The labor necessary
to make the hob-nail, if applied to the cultivation of
the earth, might produce that for which the British
manufacturer would gladly give two hob-nails. By
coming between the manufacturer and the farmer,
and interrupting this interchange by perverse legislation,
the Government broke the tie which bound the
colonies to the mother country.

“When that tie was severed and peace established,
it was the interest of both parties that this interchange
should be restored, and put upon such a footing
as to enable each, reciprocally, to obtain for the
products of his own labor as much as possible of the
products of the labor of the other.

“Why was not this done? Because laws are not
made for the benefit of the people, but for that of
their rulers. The monopolizing spirit of the landed
aristocracy in England led to the exclusion of our
bread-stuffs, and the necessities of the British treasury
tempted to the levying of enormous revenue
from our other agricultural products. The interchange
between the farmer and manufacturer was thus interrupted.
In part it was absolutely prevented; the
profit being swallowed up by the impost, the inducement
was taken away.

“What did the American Government under these
circumstances? Did they say to Great Britain, `relax
your corn-laws; reduce your duties on tobacco;
make no discrimination between our cotton and that

from the East Indies; and we will refrain from laying
a high duty on your manufactures. You will thus
enrich your own people, and it is by no means sure
that their increased prosperity may not give you,
through the excise and other channels of revenue,
more than an equivalent for the taxes we propose to
you to withdraw.'

“Did we say this? No. And why? Because,
in the northern States, there was a manufacturing
interest to be advanced by the very course of legislation
most fatal to the South. With a dense population,
occupying a small extent of barren country,
with mountain streams tumbling into deep tide-water,
and bringing commerce to the aid of manufactures,
they wanted nothing but a monopoly of the southern
market to enable them to enrich themselves. The
alternative was before us. To invite the great
European manufacturer to reciprocate the benefits of
free trade, whereby the South might enjoy all the
advantages of its fertile soil and fine climate, or to
transfer these advantages to the North, by meeting
Great Britain on the ground of prohibition and exaction.
The latter was preferred, because to the
interest of that section, which, having the local
majority, had the power.

“Under this system, Great Britain has never
wanted a pretext for her corn-laws, and her high
duties on all our products. Thus we sell all we make,

subject to these deductions, which, in many instances,
leave much less to us than what goes into the British
treasury.

“Here, too, is the pretext to the Government of the
United States for their exactions in return. The
misfortune is, that the southern planter had to bear
both burthens. One half the price of his products
is seized by the British Government, and half the
value of what he gets for the other half is seized by
the Government of the United States.

“This they called retaliation and indemnification.
It was indemnifying an interest which had not been
injured, by the farther injury of one which had been
injured. It was impoverishing the South for the
benefit of the North, to requite the South for having
been already impoverished for the benefit of Great
Britain. Still it was `indemnifying ourselves.' Much
virtue in that word, `ourselves.' It is the language
used by the giant to the dwarf in the fable; the language
of the brazen pot to the earthen pot; the
language of all dangerous or interested friendship.

“I remember seeing an illustration of this sort of
indemnity in the case of a woman who was whipt by
her husband. She went complaining to her father,
who whipped her again, and sent her back. `Tell
your husband,' said he, `that as often as he whips
my daughter, I will whip his wife.”'

“But what remedy has been proposed for these
things?” asked Douglas.

“A remedy has been proposed and applied,” replied
B—. “The remedy of legislation for the
benefit, not of the rulers, but of the ruled.”

“But in what sense will you say that our legislation
has been for the benefit of the rulers alone?
Are we not all our own rulers?”

“Yes,” replied B—, “if you again have recourse
to the use of that comprehensive word `WE,'
which identifies things most dissimilar, and binds up,
in the same bundle, things most discordant. If the
South and North are one; if the Yankee and the
Virginian are one; if light and darkness, heat and
cold, life and death, can all be identified; then WE are
our own rulers. Just so, if the State will consent to
be identified with the Church, then WE pay tithes
with one hand, and receive them with the other.
While the Commons identify themselves with the
Crown, `WE' do but pay taxes to ourselves. And if
Virginians can be fooled into identifying themselves
with the Yankees—a fixed tax-paying minority, with
a fixed tax-receiving majority—it will still be the same
thing; and they will continue to hold a distinguished
place among the innumerable WES that have been
gulled into their own ruin ever since the world began.
It is owing to this sort of deception, played off on the
unthinking multitude, that, in the two freest countries
in the world, the most important interests are taxed
for the benefit of lesser interests. In England, a
country of manufacturers, they have been starved that

agriculture may thrive. In this, a country of farmers
and planters, they have been taxed that manufacturers
may thrive. Now I will requite Lord Chatham's
well-intentioned declaration, by saying that England
ought not to make a barrel of flour for herself. I
say, too, that if her rulers and the rulers of the people
of America were true to their trust, both sayings
would be fulfilled. She would be the work-house,
and here would be the granary of the world. What
would become of the Yankees? As I don't call
them WE, I leave them to find the answer to that
question.”