University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.

Among those who had been most prompt to take
this view of the subject, and most vehement in recommending
it, was a younger brother of Mr. Trevor.
In all, but the great essentials of moral worth, this
gentleman was the very reverse of his brother. The
difference was, perhaps, mainly attributable to the
character of his intellect. Quick in conception, and
clear in his views, he was strong in his convictions,
and habitually satisfied with his conclusions. This,
added to a hasty temper, gave him the appearance
and character of a man rash, inconsiderate, and precipitate,
always in advance of the progress of public
opinion, and too impatient to wait for it. His ill
success in life seemed to justify this construction.
Though eminently gifted by nature, and possessing
all the advantages of education, he had never occupied
any of those stations in which distinction is to
be gained. In his private affairs, he had been alike
unprosperous. Though his habits were not expensive,
his patrimony had been but little increased by
his own exertions. He had married a lady of handsome

property, but had added little to it. With only
two daughters, he had not the means of endowing
them with more than a decent competency; while
his elder brother, with a family of a dozen children,
had educated the whole, had provided handsomely
for such as had set out in life, and retained the wherewithal
to give the rest nearly as much as the children
of the younger could expect. In short, the career of
Mr. Hugh Trevor had been one of uninterrupted prosperity.
In all his undertakings he had been successful.
Wealth had flowed into his coffers, and honors
had been showered on his head. “When the eye
saw him, then it blessed him.” Men pointed him
out to their children, and said to them: “Copy his
example, and follow in his steps.”

The life of Bernard, the younger brother, had been
passed in comparative obscurity. Beloved by a few,
but misunderstood by many, his existence was unknown
to the multitude, and unheeded by most who
were aware of it. They, indeed, who knew him
well, saw in him qualities which, under discreet regulation,
might have won for him distinction and
affluence. None knew him better, and none saw this
more clearly, than his elder brother. No man gave
him more credit for talent and honor, or less for prudence
and common sense. A habit of doubting the
correctness of his opinions, and condemning his
measures, had thus taken possession of the mind of
Mr. Hugh Trevor: and, as the quick and intuitive

Bernard was commonly the first to come to a conclusion,
the knowledge of that created, in the other, a
predisposition to arrive at a different result. In proportion
as the one was clear, so did the other doubt.
When the former was ardent, the latter was always
cold; and in all matters in which they had a common
interest, the cautious foresight of Hugh never
failed to see a lion in the path which Bernard wished
to pursue. They were the opposite poles of the same
needle. The clear convictions of the latter on the
subject of secession, had shaken the faith of the
former in his own, and had finally driven him to the
conclusion already intimated, “that union, on any
terms, was better than disunion, under any circumstances.”

The same habit of thinking had retarded the
change, which the events of the last three years had
been working in the mind of Mr. Hugh Trevor. His
native candor and modesty made it easy for him to
believe that he had been wrong, and, being convinced
of error, to admit it. But a corollary from this admission
would be, that the inconsiderate and imprudent
Bernard had, all the time, been right. Of the
correctness of such an admission Mr. Trevor felt an
habitual diffidence, that made him among the last to
avow a change of opinion which, perhaps, commenced
in no mind sooner than in his. But the
change was now complete, and it brought to the
conscientious old gentleman a conviction that on

him, above all men, it was incumbent to spare no
means in his power to remove the mischiefs of which
he felt his own supineness to have been in part the
cause.

He was now a private man; but he had sons. To
have given a direction to their political course, might
not have been difficult. But, in the act of repenting
an acknowledged error, how could he presume so far
on his new convictions, as to endeavor to bind them
on the minds of others? Was it even right to use
any portion of his paternal influence for the purpose
of giving to the future course of his children's lives
such a tendency as might lead them into error, to
the disappointment of their hopes, and perhaps to
crime? The answer to these questions led to a determination
to leave them to their own thoughts,
guided by such lights as circumstances might throw
upon these important subjects.

It happened unfortunately, that, about the time of
Mr. Van Buren's accession to the presidency, his
eldest son had just reached that time of life when it
is necessary to choose a profession. Without any
particular purpose of devoting him to the army, he
had been educated at West Point. The favor of
President Jackson had offered this advantage, which,
by the father of so large a family, was not to declined.
But the young man acquired a taste for military life,
and, as there was no man in Virginia whom the new
President was more desirous to bind to his service

than Mr. Hugh Trevor, his wishes had been ascertained,
and the ready advancement of his son was the
consequence. The promotion of Owen Trevor had
accordingly been hastened by all means consistent
with the rules of the service. Even these were sometimes
violated in his favor. In one instance, he had
been elevated over the head of a senior officer of acknowledged
merit. The impatience of this gentleman,
which tempted him to offer his resignation, had
been soothed by a staff appointment, accompanied by
an understanding that he should not, unnecessarily,
be placed under the immediate command of young
Trevor. The latter, at the date of which we speak,
had risen to the command of a regiment, which was
now encamped in the neighborhood of Washington,
in daily expectation of being ordered on active duty.

Colonel Owen Trevor had received his first impressions,
on political subjects, at a time when circumstances
made his father anxious to establish in his
mind a conviction that union was the one thing
needful. To the maintenance of this he had taught
him to devote himself, and, overlooking his allegiance
to his native State, to consider himself as the sworn
soldier of the Federal Government. It was certainly
not the wish of Mr. Trevor to teach his son to regard
Virginia merely as a municipal division of a
great consolidated empire. But while he taught him
to act on precepts which seemed drawn from such

premises, it was natural that the young man should
adopt them.

He did adopt them. He had learned to deride the
idea of State sovereignty; and his long residence in
the North had given him a disgust at all that is peculiar
in the manners, habits, institutions, and character
of Virginia. Among his boon companions
he had been accustomed to express these sentiments;
and, being repeated at court, they had made
him a favorite there. He had been treated by the
President with distinguished attention. He seemed
honored, too, with the personal friendship of that favorite
son, whom he had elevated to the chief command
of the army. Him he had consecrated to the
purple; proposing to cast on him the mantle of his
authority, so as to unite, in the person of his
chosen successor, the whole military and civil power
of the empire.

It was impossible that a young man, like Col. Trevor,
should fail to feel himself flattered by such notice.
He had been thought, when a boy, to be warm-hearted
and generous, and his devotion to his patrons,
which was unbounded, was placed to the account of
gratitude by his friends. The President, on his part,
was anxiously watching for an opportunity to reward
this personal zeal, which is so strong a recommendation
to the favor of the great. It was intimated to
Col. Trevor that nothing was wanting to ensure him
speedy promotion to the rank of brigadier, but some

act of service which might be magnified, by a pensioned
press, into a pretext for advancing him beyond
his equals in rank. Apprised of this, he burned
for active employment, and earnestly begged to be
marched to the theatre of war.

This theatre was Virginia. But he had long since
ceased to attribute any political personality to the
State, and it was a matter of no consequence to him
that the enemies, against whom he was to act, had
been born or resided there. Personally they were
strangers to him; and he only knew them as men
denying the supremacy of the Federal Government,
and hostile to the President and his intended successor.

One person, indeed, he might possibly meet in arms,
whom he would gladly avoid. His younger brother,
Douglas Trevor, had been, like himself, educated at
West Point, had entered the army, and served some
years. Having spent a winter at home, it was suspected
that he had become infected with the treasonable
heresies of southern politicans. He had resigned
his commission and travelled into South Carolina.
The effect of this journey on his opinions was not a
matter of doubt. Letters had been received from
him, by his brother and several young officers of his
own regiment, avowing a total change of sentiment.
These letters left no doubt, that should Virginia declare
for secession, or even in case of collison between
the Southern League and the old United States,

he would be found fighting against the latter. The
avowal of such sentiments and purposes had so excited
the displeasure of the Colonel, that he had cut
short the correspondence by begging that he might
never again be reminded that he was the brother of a
traitor. His letter, to this effect, being laid before
the commander-in-chief, had given the most decisive
proof of the zeal of one brother and the defection
of the other.

How this had been brought about, Colonel Trevor
knew not. He was not aware of any alteration in
his father's sentiments; and, indeed, Douglas himself
had not been so, at the time when he was awakened
to a sense of his country's wrongs and his own duty.
The change in his mind had been wrought by other
means; for his father was, at that time, doubting,
and, with him, to doubt was to be profoundly silent.