University of Virginia Library

XXXVIII.
“PARTISAN RANCOUR.”

Judge Adair had been recaptured, and we
found him awaiting us on the hill above the Chapel,
his daughter on horseback beside him.

The old cavalier's weakness seemed suddenly to
have left him. He sat his horse as erect as the Cid
Campeador himself, his gray hairs streaming upon
his shoulders, his eyes flashing with joy.

“Thanks! thanks!” he exclaimed, as the Rangers
came up. And he grasped the hand of Landon,
of Arden, mine, and those of the men.

“Don't mind my house,” he said, looking toward
Chapeldale, which was now a great mass of roaring
and crackling flames; “it is nothing. I do not regret
it, as you have given such a good account of
the rascals who insulted me. I have plenty of
friends near Millwood; they will give me a resting-place
for my gray hairs, and take care of Ellen!”

And the light of superb courage flashed grandly
from the old cavalier's fiery eyes as he uttered the
words.

Landon hastened, however, with his men to the

mansion, and the Rangers exerted themselves to rescue
as many valuables as possible from the flames.
These were few, however. The house was a sea of
flame. Two hours afterwards the walls alone were
standing; and the hospitable mansion of Chapeldale
was a mass of blackened ruin, — a thing of the past.

Landon was sitting his horse, looking gloomily at
the ruin.

“Look,” he said, “this is the way they make
war on us in the Valley. We are wild beasts to be
hunted down, and smoked out of our dens. The
torch is to accomplish what the sword cannot; they
cannot whip our soldiers; they burn out and starve
our women and children, and if we murmur we are
told that we are — rebels! Let a writer hereafter
describe this scene, Surry, and he will not be
believed. `Partisan rancour! Sectional hatred!'
the North will cry; and not one in a thousand will
credit him. But you see. Here is the terrible fact
staring you straight in the face. This country is to
be desolated, in order that our troops cannot operate
in it. `A crow flying over the region shall be compelled
to carry his rations!' they declare. Well,
they desolate the poor Valley by burning out women
and children, and, for fear that the crow may find
food, they destroy that too. Let them starve, those
women and children! Are they not rebels? See
that dangerous one!”

And Landon pointed to Miss Adair, who was leaning
on the shoulder of her old negro mammy, and
trying to stifle her sobs. Beside her stood Judge
Adair, still erect and defiant.

“They are right!” said Landon; “there is only
one way to conquer such a race as that, — it is to
starve or exterminate them!”

They were starved, reader. Ask the Army of
Northern Virginia.