University of Virginia Library

30. CHAPTER XXX.

And so it was. I can add nothing to the language
of the poet. I can supply nothing to the imagination
of the reader. Thus Douglas and Delia parted. He
accompanied his new acquaintance to the southern
capital; he there met with men whose names live
and will live in the history of their country, and
whose memories will be honored while virtue is held
in reverence among men. From these, and especially
from the accomplished gentleman to whose friendship
he had been introduced by his uncle and Mr.
B—, he received such lights as dispelled every
shadow of doubt from his mind. The wrongs of
Virginia, her rights and her remedies, became the
subject of all his thoughts, and he burned with
impatience for the time when he might draw his
sword on her behalf, and turn to her use, as he had

expressed it, the lessons learned in the school of her
oppressors.

That time at length arrived. Returning by the
upper road which skirts the foot of the mountains,
he re-entered Virginia nearly at the spot to which
his brother had gone in quest of him. There, as he
had been taught to expect, he found Schwartz,
whose reception of him fully justified the assurances
of B—. To that gentleman he showed unbounded
devotion, delighted to speak of favors received at
his hands, and of “moving accidents by flood and
field,” which they had encountered together. Next
to B—, in his estimation, stood Mrs. Trevor; then
Delia, for whom when a child he had formed a passionate
attachment; and last, Mr. Trevor himself,
whom, after the rest, he respected and admired above
all human beings. A hint from B— that Douglas
was the husband of Delia placed him at once in the
same catalogue of worthies, and from the first moment
he devoted himself not less to his personal
service than to the advancement of the common
cause. He had already organized a small corps, the
command of which he unreservedly surrendered,
making it his constant study to recommend the new
commander to the confidence of the men.

No man could deserve it better, or was better
qualified to win it. Frank, affable, generous and
kind, his deportment was marked by that self-respectful
courtesy which has all the good effect of

dignity, without ever passing by that name. With
nothing repulsive, austere, or cold in his demeanor,
he was a man whose orders no soldier would question,
whose displeasure no gentleman would choose
to incur, whose feelings no friend, however careless,
would wound. Liberally supplied with money by
his southern friends, and instructed by Schwartz in
the judicious use of it, he took effectual measures to
prevent distress in the families of his followers. A
small sum amply satisfied their simple wants, and
his men had the satisfaction of knowing that their
families suffered nothing by their absence from their
little farms.

Beside the small embodied corps I have mentioned,
the whole population of that warlike district
were placed under a sort of organization, so that,
while they pursued their occupations of hunting or
farming, they were prepared, at any moment, to join
an expedition or to resist an attack.

Schwartz, who knew the country, inch by inch,
made Douglas acquainted with all its strengths and
all its passes, so that he soon became an expert
woodsman, and an active mountaineer. His first
care was to select a place for a stationary camp. For
this purpose he chose a position strong by nature,
which he made nearly impregnable. He next provided
horses enough to mount a part of his corps.
For these the rich herbage of the mountains afforded
abundant subsistence during the summer months.

Of ammunition there was no stint. The lead mines
were just at his back, beyond the Alleghany.
Powder is made of good quality in all that region,
and the quantity necessary for the rifle is so small,
that the rifleman may be said to carry a hundred
lives in his powder-horn. Of provisions he had
plenty, though wanting many things deemed necessary
in a regular army. But the pure air of the
mountains, and the exercise of hunting and scouting,
preserved the health of the men, without tents, or
salt, or vinegar, or vegetables of any kind. Venison
and beef, dried in the sun, or over the fire by the
process called jerking, was prepared in the season
of abundance for winter use, and proved the best
sort of food for a marauding corps. Light, compact,
and nutritious, there is no diet on which a man
can travel so far or fight so hard.

Nothing now remained but to make his enemy
feel him. Stooping from his mountain fastness, he
soon broke up all the military posts in the adjacent
counties; so that, in a few weeks, not a blue-coat
was to be seen on the south side of Staunton river.
Freed from the presence of their enemy, the people
were found ready to rise en masse. He dissuaded them
from doing more than to put themselves in readiness
for action, to furnish him needed supplies, for which
he paid fairly, and to give him notice of the approach
of the enemy. For this purpose he established a sort
of half military organization, and had it in his power

to increase his little force to five times its number in
a few days. His strength being thus adapted to any
occasion which could be expected to offer, after
sweeping away the enemy from the south side of the
river, he proceeded to break up the posts in the
counties on the northern bank. In the end, though
the enemy were nominally in possession of all the
country between James river and Roanoke, they held
no post higher than Lynchburg, nor any farther
south than Farmville. Above this last place, their
scouts and foraging parties showed themselves occasionally,
but never ventured to leave the banks of
James river for more than a single night.

At Lynchburg, not long before the time at which
our story commences, two companies had been
posted. As Douglas had never shown a force of
more than a hundred men, no fear of an attack on
that point was entertained. But suddenly collecting
a number of auxiliaries, he struck at them, drove
them from their post, enriched his men with every
thing that the laws of war permitted him to seize,
and retreated to his strong-hold in the mountains.
The supplies of arms, ammunition, clothing, and
blankets, thus procured, put him in condition to
increase his corps, if necessary. Thus, at the time
of which we speak, having little more than a hundred
men embodied, he could have marched five
times that number to Richmond; and, for any service
near at hand, could have commanded a yet larger

force. Though unprovided with many of the conveniences
of military life, they were not deficient in
essentials. There was “not a bit of feather in his
host,” nor drum, nor trumpet, nor banner. But there
were stout hearts, and strong hands, and fleet limbs,
and good rifles, and knives and tomahawks; and that
system and harmony which spring from a sense of
danger, a high purpose, and confidence in a leader.
To the listening ear, a whisper speaks louder than a
trumpet to the heedless. To the trusting heart, the
chieftain's voice supersedes the spirit-stirring drum.

While Douglas thus maintained his position among
the mountains, it became a sort of Cave of Adullam.
His little corps was a nucleus to which the discontented
and persecuted gathered continually. His
embodied force was increased, while the organization
of the neighboring population became more
perfect, their confidence firmer, their zeal more
ardent. So effectually had he broken the power of
the Central Government in that quarter, that it had
been deemed expedient to throw a much larger force
into Lynchburg, to curb his progress in that direction,
and to restrain the disaffected in the counties
along the north bank of James river. Could he have
co-operated with the friends of Virginia there, it was
not clear that the flame might not spread on and on,
in the direction of Washington, until the very seat
of empire might be unsafe. Hence a regiment had
been detached from the army at Richmond, and

another from the North, originally destined for that
place, was turned aside to Lynchburg. Aware of
these movements, Douglas had no doubt that the
purpose of such an assemblage of force was not
merely preventive. He saw that attempts would be
made to recover the ground which the enemy had
lost on the south side of James river; and that, by
remaining strictly on the defensive, he might be
forced to withdraw his embodied force to their mountain
strong-hold, and not only lose the aid of his
irregulars, but give them up to the vengeance of the
enemy. Under these circumstances, attack was the
most effectual form of defence, and boldness was
true prudence.

The time, too, was at hand for the decisive movement,
in the lower counties, for the relief of Richmond.
The desired diversion had been effected,
and Douglas found himself capable of bringing into
the field a force, the presence of which would be no
inconsiderable aid to that about to assemble below.
To strike at his enemy therefore, to overwhelm him,
if possible, and, if not, to elude him and fall down
to the assistance of B—, seemed to him the surest
plan for preserving the safety and independence even
of the mountain region. If successful, every desirable
end would be accomplished. Even should he
fail, his duty to the faithful yeomanry and peasantry
of that devoted section, was rather to draw the
enemy away after him toward Richmond, than by

falling directly back, or even by remaining where
he was, to invite them to overrun the country which
had afforded him such zealous and efficient co-operation.

Influenced by these considerations, Douglas had
despatched Schwartz to lay them before B—, and
receive his instructions. He had long ago recognized
him as the person of whom his aunt had said that
“the destiny of Virginia depended on him.” He
had received at his hands the sort of authority which
he wielded, now indeed by his own personal influence
and character, but originally as the trusted
representative of B—. He had no mind to shake off
that character. He had seen that, by means not
exactly understood, that gentleman commanded
resources, both at home and abroad, which enabled
him to meditate plans, in which all the operations of
Douglas's corps, however brilliant, were but circumstances
of less importance in themselves than in
their relations.

Schwartz was the sole medium of communication
between the two. With nothing in his appearance
to attract attention—nothing in his manners or
common style of conversation betokening powers
superior to those of any other peasant—his intelligence
and fidelity supplied the place of letters. He
understood every thing, and forgot nothing that was
said to him. He therefore carried no papers, and
passed unsuspected through the country, amusing

with the most harmless gossip, all he chanced to fall
in with. He was a man who knew how to have
business any where, and at any moment; and he
passed along more like a sparrow hopping from twig
to twig, pecking at a berry here and a leaf there, and
never seeming to have an ulterior object, than with
the strong-winged flight which indicates a distant
and important destination.

In one of Arthur's visits to Lucia, (his betrothal
to whom was no longer a secret in her father's
family,) he was made acquainted with the history of
Douglas's marriage. He was also entrusted with the
important information that the gallant leader, with
whose exploits the country rung, and whom his
imagination had endued with almost superhuman
powers, was his own best beloved brother. He was
instantly on fire to join him, and Schwartz was
instructed to convey to him the necessary intelligence;
and, if possible, to fall in with him on the
way. But he had been turned aside by objects of
higher moment on his return, and Arthur had got
ahead of him. Having ascertained this fact in the
county of Charlotte, where their roads came together,
Schwartz travelled hard to overtake him; left his
tired horse at the entrance of the defile, and, following
on foot, came up with him as we have seen.