University of Virginia Library

16. CHAPTER XVI.

“There is something in this business,” said the
President, after a silence of a few minutes, “which
I do not well understand. I was not prepared to
find Lieutenant Trevor so ready to resign, and still
less to receive his letter of resignation through the
hands of his father, without one word of expostulation
to his son, or to me. He does not even intimate
any the least regret at the event. What can this
mean?”

“It does not at all surprise me,” said Mr. Baker.
“Hugh Trevor was always a visionary and uncertain
man; and his influence over his sons is such, that I
should consider the manifest defection of Lieutenant
Trevor as a sure proof of the estrangement of the
father.”

“I thought,” said the President, “that he had
been always remarkable for his steadiness and
fidelity.”

“In one sense he is so,” replied Baker. “But
his steadiness is of the wrong sort. He is one of
those men who professes to be governed, and, I dare
say, is governed by principles. But his principles
are so numerous, and so hedge him around and beset
him on every side, that they have kept him standing
still the greater part of his life. When he moves, it
would take an expert mathematician to calculate the
result of all the compound forces which act upon
him, and to decide certainly what course he might
take.”

“How happens it, then,” asked the President,
“that I have always found him so loyal and faithful
in his devotion to me?”

“Because he identified your Excellency in his
own mind with the Union, to which he determined
to sacrifice every thing else. But now that disunion
has come, and the question is whether Virginia shall
adhere to the North or join the South, he has a new
problem to work, and how he may work it, no man
can anticipate. Hence I say he is uncertain.”

“But does he think nothing of the advancement
of his family?”

“It seems not, in this instance. That is what I
meant when I said that his principles were too many.
Your Excellency knows,” continued the honorable
gentleman, with a contortion of the mouth meant for
a smile, and which, but for the loss of his teeth, might
have produced a grin, “that the cardinal number of

standard principles is the only one which can be
counted on.”

“Have you then any information,” asked the President,
“which leads you to suspect him of disaffection?”

“None,” replied Baker; “I do but speak from
my knowledge of the man. I do not think him
capable of that gratitude for the many favors he and
his family have received which should bind him indissolubly
to your Excellency's service.”

“It is well, at least,” said the President, “that
one of his sons, on whom most of those favors have
been lavished, is made of different materials. The
principles of Colonel Trevor are exactly of the right
sort; or, as you would say, my dear sir, they are of
just the right number. Could I obtain any information
of the father's movements, which might give me
just cause to doubt him, I would take occasion to
show the difference I make between the faithful and
the unstable. I would refuse to receive this young
man's resignation, and order a court-martial immediately.
I mistake if the father would not be glad
to extricate him from the difficulty, by renouncing
some of these fantastic notions which he dignifies
with the name of principles.”

“I beseech your Excellency,” said Baker, forgetting
his envious spleen against the virtuous and upright
friend of his early youth, in his alarm at the
mention of the court-martial; “I beseech your

Excellency not to understand me as preferring any
charge against Mr. Hugh Trevor. He is an excellent
man, who well deserves all the favors he has
received, and will, doubtless, merit many more. I
pray that what I have said may not at all influence
you to any harsh measures against him or his.”

The tact of the President at once detected the revulsion
of Baker's feelings, and the cause. Indeed,
he well knew both the men. He was aware that all
that had been said of Mr. Trevor was essentially
true. He had, therefore, the more highly prized his
friendship, as one of the brightest jewels in his
crown. He had taught his advocates and minions to
point to him as one, whose support it was known
would not be given to any man but from a sense of
duty. He was himself not so dead to virtue as not
to respect it in another; and his favorable dispositions
toward Mr. Trevor, and the benefits bestowed
on his family, had more of respect and gratitude than
commonly mingled in his feelings or actions. Of
Baker, he had rightly formed a different estimate.
He found him in the shambles, and had bought and
used him. To Baker, too, Mr. Trevor appeared
only as one, in whose life there was a “daily
beauty that made his ugly;” and he had seen, with
malignant envy, the honors and emoluments for which
he had toiled through all the drudgery of a partisan,
freely bestowed on the unasking and unpretending
merit of a rival. Gladly would he have improved

the distrust, which he saw had entered into the mind
of the President, had he not been warned that the
first effect of it might be to press an enquiry which
must eventuate in the irreparable dishonor of his own
son.

While he sat meditating on these things, and subduing
his malice to his fears and his interest, the
door-bell sounded; the single stroke from the clock-case
echoed the sound; the door opened; and a
new character appeared on the stage.

No person whose name appears in this history
better deserves a particular description than he who
now entered. Fortunately, I am saved the necessity
of going into it, by having it in my power to refer
the reader to a most graphic delineation of his exact
prototype in person, mind, manners, and principles.

In Oliver Dain, or Oliver le Diable, as he was
called, the favorite instrument of the crimes of that
remorseless tyrant Louis XI., he had found his
great exemplar. The picture of that worthy, as
drawn by Sir Walter Scott, in Quentin Durward, is
the most exact likeness of one man ever taken for
another. It is not even worth while to change the
costume; for although he did not appear with a
barber's apron girded around his waist, and the
basin in his hands, it was impossible to look upon
him without seeing that his undoubted talents, and
the high stations he had filled, still left him fit to be
employed in the most abject and menial services.

This happy compound of meanness, malignity,
treachery, and talent, was welcomed by the President
with a nod and smile at once careless and gracious.
At the sight of him, Mr. Baker made haste
to rise, and bustled forward to meet and salute him
with an air, in which, if there was less of servility,
there was more of the eagerness of adulation than he
had displayed toward the President himself. The
earnest enquiries of Mr. Baker after his health, &c.
&c. were answered with the fawning air of one who
feels himself much obliged by the notice of a superior,
and he then turned to the President as if waiting
his commands. These were communicated by putting
into his hands the letters of Mr. Hugh Trevor
and his son, which he was requested to read.

While he read, the President, turning to Mr. Baker,
said: “While I thought of ordering a court-martial
on the case of Lieutenant Trevor, I deemed it advisable
to have all his military transactions looked into,
intending, if any thing were amiss, to make it the
subject of a distinct charge.” Then, turning to the
other, he added: “You have, I presume, acquainted
yourself with the state of the young man's accounts.”

“I have, sir,” was the reply. “They have been
all settled punctually.”

“Then there is nothing to prevent the acceptance
of his resignation?”

“Nothing of that sort, certainly, sir. But has

your Excellency observed the date of this letter of
his? You may see that he does not date from his
father's house. I happen to know this place, Truro,
to be the residence of that pestilent traitor, his uncle.
Now, if the charge be well founded, I submit to
your Excellency whether the offender should be permitted
to escape prosecution by resigning. If it be
not exactly capable of being substantiated, yet his
readiness to resign on so slight an intimation renders
his disaffection at least probable, and his date
renders it nearly certain. Might it not then be advisable
to retain the hold we have upon him? The
court-martial being once ordered, additional charges
might be preferred; and I much mistake the temper
of the country where he is, if he does not furnish
matter for additional charges before the month of
April passes by.”

“Why the month of April?” asked the President.

“Because then the elections come on; and there
is little doubt that exertions will be made to obtain a
majority in the Legislature of men disposed to secede,
and join the southern confederacy. In that
county, in particular, I am well advised that such
exertions will be made. A hen-hearted fellow has
been put forward as the candidate of the malcontents,
who can be easily driven from the canvass by
his personal fears. Let the affair once take that
shape, and immediately the fantastic notions of what

southern men call chivalry, which infest the brain of
this old drawcansir, will push him forward as a candidate.
I had made some arrangements which, with
your Excellency's approbation, I had proposed to
carry into effect for accomplishing this result, in the
hope of bringing him into collision with the law of
treason, and so getting rid at once of a dangerous
enemy. Now, if this young man's resignation be
rejected, and a court-martial be ordered, the part he
will act in the affair can hardly fail to be such as to
make his a ball-cartridge case.”

“Your plan is exceedingly well aimed,” said the
President, “but on farther reflection, my good friend
Mr. Baker is led by feelings of delicacy to wish to
withdraw his charges. I am loth to deny any thing
to one who merits so much at my hands, but still
there are difficulties in the way which will not permit
us to pursue that course. The acceptance of
this resignation will effectually remove them, and indirectly
gratify the wish of Mr. Baker. Now, what
do you advise?”

In the act of asking this question, the President
shifted his position so suddenly as to call the minion's
attention to the motion. He looked up and saw his
master's face averted from Mr. Baker, and thought
he read there an intimation that he should press his
former objection. This he therefore did, expressing
his reluctance to give advice unfavorable to
the wishes of one so much respected as Mr. Baker,

and highly complimenting the delicacy of his
scruples.

“But, suppose,” asked the President, “we press
the passage of the law authorizing a court to sit
here for the trial, by a jury of this District, of offences
committed in Virginia. In that case, should our
young cock crow too loud, we might find means to
cut his comb without a court-martial.”

“That Congress will pass such a law cannot be
doubted,” said the other, “were it not vain to do
so, when it seems to be understood that none of the
judges would be willing to execute it. I am tired of
hearing of constitutional scruples.”

“I am bound to respect them,” replied the President,
meekly. “But I really do not see the grounds
for them in such a case as this. I beg pardon, Judge
Baker. I know it is against rule to ask a judge's
opinion out of court. But I beg you to enlighten
me so far as to explain to me what are the scruples
which the bench are supposed to feel on this subject.
I make the enquiry, because I am anxious to accept
this young fellow's resignation, if, in doing so, I
shall not lose the means of punishing the offences
which there is too much reason to think he medidates.
To try him in Virginia would be vain. Indeed,
I doubt whether your court could sit there in
safety.”

“I fear it could not,” replied the Judge, “and
have therefore no difficulty in saying, that the necessity

of the case should overrule all constitutional
scruples. I have no delicacy in answering your
Excellency's question out of court. It is merely an
enquiry, which I hope is superfluous, whether I
would do my duty. I trust it is not doubted that I
would; and should I be honored with your Excellency's
commands in that behalf, I should hold myself
bound to execute them. To speak more precisely:
should the court be established, and I appointed to
preside in it, I should cheerfully do so.”

“That then removes all difficulty,” said the President.
“The young man's resignation, therefore,
will be accepted, and measures must be taken to distribute
troops through the disaffected counties in
such numbers as may either control the display of
the malcontent spirit at the polls, or invite it to show
itself in such a shape as shall bring it within the
scope of your authority, and the compass of a
halter.”

Some desultory conversation now arose on various
topics, more and more remote from public affairs.
On these Mr. Baker would have been glad to descant,
and perhaps to hear the thoughts of the President
and his minister. But all his attempts to detain
them from talking exclusively of lighter matters
were effectually baffled by the address of the former.
All this was so managed as to wear out the evening,
without giving the gentleman the least reason

to suspect that he was in the way, or that the great
men who had seemed to admit him to their confidence,
placed themselves under the least constaint
in his presence. At length he took his leave.