MILDRED TURNS HER STEPS HOMEWARDS.
I have seen a generous and brave boy defied to some enterprise of
terror,--such as, peradventure, to clamber in the dark night, alone, up
many a winding bout of stair-case to the garret,--and he has undertaken
the achievement, although sore afraid of goblins, and gone forth upon
his adventure with a lusty step and with a bold tardiness, whistling or
singing on his way--his eyes and ears all the time fearfully open to all
household sights and sounds, now magnified out of their natural
proportions; and when he had reached the furthest term of his travel, I
have known him to turn quickly about and come down three steps at a
leap, feeling all the way as if some spectre tracked his flight and hung
upon his rear. Calling up such a venture to my mind, I am enabled, by
comparison with the speed and anxiety of the boy, to show my reader with
what emotions Mildred, her mission being done, now turned herself upon
her homeward route. The excitement occasioned by her knowledge of the
critical circumstances of Butler, and the pain she had suffered in the
belief that upon the courageous performance of her duty depended even
his life, had nerved her resolution to the perilous and hardy exploit in
which we have seen her. But now, when matters had taken such a suddenly
auspicious turn, and she was assured of her lover's safety, not even the
abrupt joy which poured in upon her heart was sufficient to stifle her
sense of uneasiness at her present exposed condition, and she eagerly
prepared to betake herself back to the Dove Cote.
The scenes around her had wrought upon her nerves; and, although she was
singularly fortunate in the courtesy which she had experienced from all
into whose hands she had fallen, yet the rude licentiousness of the
camp, and the revolting acts of barbarity which were ever present to her
observation, appalled and distressed her. Besides, she now saw the
fixed purpose with which Cornwallis was preparing to march forward in
his course of invasion, and thought with alarm upon the probable event
of soon having the theatre of war transferred to the neighborhood of her
native woods.
Robinson's advice seconded her own alacrity. It was to hasten, with all
despatch, in advance of the invading army; and as this body was now
about taking up its line of march, no time was to be lost. Accordingly,
but a brief delay took place after Cornwallis and his suite had departed
from head-quarters, before our party set forward, accompanied by the
small guard of cavalry that had been ordered to attend them. The troops
were just wheeling into column on the ground where they had been lately
reviewed, when Mildred and her attendants galloped past, and took the
high road leading to the town of Charlotte, in North Carolina, towards
which it was understood the invaders were about to direct their journey.
In less than an hour afterwards they had left behind them the line of
baggage wagons and the small military parties of the vanguard, and found
themselves rapidly hastening towards a district occupied by the friends
of independence.
The sergeant had now occasion for his utmost circumspection. In pursuing
the destined route of the invasion, he had reason to expect an early
encounter with some of the many corps of observation, which the opposite
party were certain to put upon the duty of reporting the approach of
their enemy. And so it fell out; for, towards the middle of the day,
whilst the travellers were quietly plying their journey through the
forest, the discharge of a pistol announced the presence of a hostile
body of men; and almost instantly afterwards a small handful of Whig
cavalry were seen hovering upon the road, at the distance of some three
or four hundred paces in front. Robinson no sooner recognised this squad
than he took the lady's handkerchief and hoisted it on a rod, as a flag
of truce, and, at the same moment, directed the escort to retreat,
apprising them that their presence was no longer necessary, as he had
now an opportunity to deliver his charge into the hands of friends. The
British horsemen, accordingly, took their leave; and, in the next
moment, Horse Shoe surrendered to a patrole, who announced themselves to
be a part of the command of Colonel Davie, of the North Carolina
militia--a gallant partisan, then well known to fame, and whose after
exploits fill up no inconsiderable page of American history.
It does not enter into the purpose of my story to detain my reader with
a minute account of Mildred's homeward journey; but having now
transferred her to the protection of a friendly banner, it will suffice
to say that she arrived the same evening at Charlotte, where she spent
the night in the midst of the active, warlike preparations which were in
progress to receive Cornwallis.
It was towards sunset on the following day, when, wearied with the toil
of a long and rapid journey, our travellers arrived in front of a
retired farm-house, on the road leading through the upper districts of
North Carolina. The cultivation around this dwelling showed both good
husbandry and a good soil, and there was an appearance of comfort and
repose which was an unusual sight in a country so much alarmed and
ravaged by war, as that over which the wayfarers had lately journeyed.
The house stood some short distance apart from the road, and in the
porch was seated an elderly man of a respectable appearance, to whom a
young girl was, at this moment, administering a draught of water from a
small, hooped, wooden vessel which she held in her hand.
"I am parched with thirst," said Mildred, "pray get me some of that
water."
"The place looks so well, ma'am," replied the sergeant, "that I think we
could not do better than make a stop here for the night. Good day,
neighbor! What is the name of the river I see across yon field, and
where mought we be, just at this time?"
"It is the Yadkin," answered the man, "and this county, I believe, is
Iredell--though I speak only by guess, for I am but a stranger in these
parts."
"The lady would be obligated," said Horse Shoe, "for a drop of that
water; and, if it was agreeable, she mought likewise be pleased to put
up here for the night."
"The people of the house are kind and worthy," replied the old man, "and
not likely to refuse a favor. Mary, take a cup to the lady."
The girl obeyed; and, coming up to the party with the vessel in her
hand, she suddenly started as her eye fell upon Horse Shoe, and her pale
and wan countenance was seen bathed in tears.
"Mr. Robinson!" she exclaimed, with a faltering voice; "you don't know
me?--me, Mary Musgrove. Father, it is our friend, Horse Shoe Robinson!"
Then placing the vessel upon the ground, she ran to the sergeant's side,
as he sat upon his horse, and leaning her head against his saddle, she
wept bitterly, sobbing out: "It is me, Mary Musgrove. John--our
John--that you loved--he is dead--he is dead!"
In an instant Allen Musgrove was at the gate, where he greeted the
sergeant with the affection of an old friend.
This recognition of the miller and his daughter at once confirmed the
sergeant in his determination to end his day's journey at this spot. In
a few moments Mildred and her companions were introduced into the
farm-house, where they were heartily welcomed by the in-dwellers,
consisting of a sturdy, cheerful tiller of the soil, and a motherly
dame, whose brood of children around her showed her to be the mistress
of the family.
The scene that ensued after the party were seated in the house was, for
some time, painfully affecting. Poor Mary, overcome by the associations
called up to her mind at the sight of the sergeant, took a seat near
him, and silently gazed in his face, visibly laboring under a strong
desire to express her feelings in words, but at the same time stricken
mute by the intensity of her emotions.
After a long suspense, which was broken only by her sobs, she was
enabled to utter a few disjointed sentences, in which she recalled to
the sergeant the friendship that had existed between him and John
Ramsay; and there was something peculiarly touching in the melancholy
tone with which, in accordance with the habits inculcated by her
religious education, and most probably in the words of her father's
frequent admonitions, she attributed the calamity that had befallen her
to the kindly chastisement of heaven, to endure which she devoutly, and
with a sigh that showed the bitterness of her suffering, prayed for
patience and submission. Allen Musgrove, at this juncture, interposed
with some topics of consolation suitable to the complexion of the
maiden's mind, and soon succeeded in drying up her tears, and restoring
her, at least, to the possession of a tranquil and apparently a resigned
spirit.
When this was done, he gave a narrative of the events relating to the
escape of Butler and his subsequent recapture at the funeral of John
Ramsay, to which, it may be imagined, Mildred and Henry listened with
the most absorbed attention.
This tale of the recapture of Butler, so unexpected, and communicated at
a moment when Mildred's heart beat high with the joyful hopes of
speedily seeing her lover again in safety, now struck upon her ear with
the alarm that seizes upon a voyager who, fearing no hidden reef or
unknown shoal, hears the keel of his ship in mid ocean crash against a
solid rock. It seemed at once to break down the illusion which she had
cherished with such fond affection. For the remainder of the evening the
intercourse of the party was anxious and thoughtful, and betrayed the
unhappy impression which the intelligence just communicated had made
upon the feelings of Mildred and her brother. Musgrove, after the
travellers had been refreshed by food, and invigorated by the kind and
hearty hospitality of the good man under whose roof they were sheltered,
proceeded to give the sergeant a history of what had lately befallen in
the neighborhood of the Ennoree. Some days after the escape of Butler,
the miller's own family had drawn upon themselves the odium of the
ruling authority. His mill and his habitation had been reduced to ashes
by a party of Tories who had made an incursion into this district, with
no other view than to wreak their vengeance against suspected persons.
In the same inroad, the family of David Ramsay had once more been
assailed, and all that was spared from the first conflagration was
destroyed in the second. Many other houses through this region had met
the same fate. The expedition had been conducted by Wemyss, who, it is
said, carried in his pocket a list of dwellings to which the torch was
to be applied, and who, on accomplishing each item of his diabolical
mission--so still runs the tradition--would note the consummated work by
striking out the memorandum from his tablets.
In this general ravage, the desolated families fled like hunted game
through the woods, and betook themselves with a disordered haste to the
more friendly provinces northward. Musgrove had sent his wife and
younger children, almost immediately after the assault upon him, to the
care of a relative in Virginia, whither they had been conducted some
days previous to the date of his present meeting with Horse Shoe by
Christopher Shaw; whilst he and Mary had remained behind, for a short
space, to render assistance to the family of Ramsay, to whom they felt
themselves affined almost as closely as if the expected alliance by
marriage had taken place. When this duty was discharged, and Ramsay's
family were provided with a place of refuge, Musgrove had set forward
with his daughter to rejoin his wife and children in their new asylum.
It was upon this journey that they had now been accidentally overtaken
by our travellers.
The disclosure of the motives of Mildred's expedition to Mary and her
father, as may be supposed, warmed up their feelings to a most
affectionate sympathy in her troubles. They had often heard of Butler's
attachment to a lady in Virginia, and were aware of her name, from the
incidents that had occurred at the trial of Butler, and from the nature
of Horse Shoe's mission to Virginia. Mary had nursed in her mind a
fanciful and zealous interest in behalf of the lady who was supposed to
have engrossed Butler's affections, from the earnest devotion which she
had witnessed in his demeanor, first at Adair's, and often afterwards
during his captivity. The effect of this preconceived favor now showed
itself in her behavior to Mildred; and, in the gentle play which it gave
to her kindly sentiments, a most happy change was wrought in her present
feelings. She at once warmly and fervently attached herself to Mildred,
and won her way into our lady's esteem by the most amiable assiduities.
In these offices of love, the poignancy of her own grief began to give
way to the natural sweetness of her temper, and they were observed, in
the same degree, to enliven Mildred's feelings. Mary hung fondly about
her new acquaintance, proffered her most minute attentions of comfort,
spoke often of the generous qualities of Butler, and breathed many a
sincere prayer for future happiness to him and those he loved.
As Mildred pondered over the new aspect which the tidings of this
evening had given to her condition, her inclination and duty both
prompted her to the resolve to make an effort to join Butler, instead of
returning to the Dove Cote. She was apprised by Musgrove that the
prisoner had been conducted to Ferguson, who, she was told, was at this
time stationed in the neighborhood of Gilbert-town, not a hundred miles
from her present position. She had ventured far in his services, and she
could not, now that she had so nearly approached him, consent to
abandon the effort of reaching the spot of his captivity. She thought
with alarm over the dangers that might await him in consequence of his
previous escape, and this alarm was increased by her remembrance of the
tone of bitter resentment with which Cornwallis, in a moment of
unguarded feeling, had referred to the event in her late conference with
that officer. Above all, it was her duty--such was her view of the
matter--and whatever might befal, he was the lord of her heart, and all
dangers and difficulties, now as heretofore, should be cast aside in her
determination to administer to his safety or comfort. Her decision was
made, and she so announced it to her companions.
Neither the sergeant nor Henry made the opposition to this resolve that
might have been expected. To Horse Shoe it was a matter of indifference
upon what service he might be ordered; his thoughts ran in no other
current than to obey the order, and make the most thrifty and careful
provision for its safe execution. To Henry that was always a pleasant
suggestion which was calculated to bring him more into the field of
adventure. Allen Musgrove, on this occasion, added an opinion which
rather favored the enterprise.
"It was not much out of the way," he said, "to go as far as Burk Court
House, where, at least, the lady was likely to learn something of the
plans of Ferguson, and she might either wait there, or take such
direction afterwards as her friends should advise."
Mary begged that whatever route Mildred thought proper to pursue, she
might be allowed to accompany her; and this request was so much to the
liking of Mildred, that she earnestly implored the miller's consent to
the plan. With some reluctance Musgrove acquiesced; and, feeling thus
doubly interested in the fortunes of the party, he finally determined
himself to attend them in their present enterprise.
These matters being settled, the wearied travellers parted for the
night, happy, at least, in having found the weight of their personal
afflictions relieved by the cheerfulness with which the burden was
divided.