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Hansford:

A TALE OF BACON'S REBELLION.




BY ST. GEORGE TUCKER.




    Rebellion! foul dishonouring word--
      Whose wrongful blight so oft has stained
    The holiest cause that, tongue or sword
      Of mortal ever lost or gained.
    How many a spirit, born to bless,
      Hath sank beneath that withering name;
    Whom but a day's, an hour's success,
      Had wafted to eternal fame!
                                      MOORE.




RICHMOND, VA.:
PUBLISHED BY GEORGE M. WEST
BOSTON: PHILLIPS, SAMPSON & CO.
1857.




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857,
BY GEORGE M. WEST,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Virginia.




PREFACE.


It is the design of the author, in the following pages, to illustrate
the period of our colonial history, to which the story relates, and to
show that this early struggle for freedom was the morning harbinger of
that blessed light, which has since shone more and more unto the perfect
day.

Most of the characters introduced have their existence in real
history--Hansford lived, acted and died in the manner here narrated, and
a heart as pure and true as Virginia Temple's mourned his early doom.

In one of those quaint old tracts, which the indefatigable antiquary,
Peter Force, has rescued from oblivion, it is stated that Thomas
Hansford, although a son of Mars, did sometimes worship at the shrine of
Venus. It was his unwillingness to separate forever from the object of
his love that led to his arrest, while lurking near her residence in
Gloucester. From the meagre materials furnished by history of the
celebrated rebellion of Nathaniel Bacon the following story has been
woven.

It were an object to be desired, both to author and to reader, that the
fate of Thomas Hansford had been different. This could not be but by a
direct violation of history. Yet the lesson taught in this simple story,
it is hoped, is not without its uses to humanity. Though vice may
triumph for a season, and virtue fail to meet its appropriate reward,
yet nothing can confer on the first, nor snatch from the last, that
substantial happiness which is ever afforded to the mind conscious of
rectitude. The self-conviction which stings the vicious mind would make
a diadem a crown of thorns. The _mens sibi conscia recti_ can make a
gallows as triumphant as a throne. Such is the moral which the author
designs to convey. If a darker punishment awaits the guilty, or a purer
reward is in reserve for the virtuous, we must look for them to that
righteous Judge, whose hand wields at once the sceptre of mercy and the
sword of justice.

And now having prepared this brief preface, to stand like a portico
before his simple edifice, the author would cordially and respectfully
make his bow, and invite his guests to enter. If his little volume is
read, he will be amply repaid; if approved, he will be richly rewarded.




HANSFORD.




CHAPTER 1.

    "The rose of England bloomed on Gertrude's cheek;
    What though these shades had seen her birth? Her sire
    A Briton's independence taught to seek
    Far western worlds."
                        _Gertrude of Wyoming._


Among those who had been driven, by the disturbances in England, to seek
a more quiet home in the wilds of Virginia, was a gentleman of the name
of Temple. An Englishman by birth, he was an unwilling spectator of the
revolution which erected the dynasty of Cromwell upon the ruins of the
British monarchy. He had never been able to divest his mind of that
loyal veneration in which Charles Stuart was held by so many of his
subjects, whose better judgments, if consulted, would have prompted them
to unite with the revolutionists. But it was a strong principle with
that noble party, who have borne in history the distinguished name of
Cavaliers, rarely to consult the dictates of reason in questions of
ancient prejudice. They preferred rather to err blindly with the long
line of their loyal forbears in submission to tyranny, than to subvert
the ancient principles of government in the attainment of freedom. They
saw no difference between the knife of the surgeon and the sword of the
destroyer--between the wholesome medicine, administered to heal, and the
deadly poison, given to destroy.

Nor are these strong prejudices without their value in the
administration of government, while they are absolutely essential to the
guidance of a revolution. They <DW44> and moderate those excesses which
they cannot entirely control, and even though unable to avoid the
_descensus Averni_, they render that easy descent less fatal and
destructive. Nor is there anything in the history of revolutions more
beautiful than this steady adherence to ancient principles--this
faithful devotion to a fallen prince, when all others have forsaken him
and fled. While man is capable of enjoying the blessings of freedom, the
memory of Hampden will be cherished and revered; and yet there is
something scarcely less attractive in the disinterested loyalty, the
gener