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                      THE CAVALIERS OF VIRGINIA,

                     OR, THE RECLUSE OF JAMESTOWN.

               AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE OF THE OLD DOMINION.

                        BY WILLIAM A. CARUTHERS

               THE AUTHOR OF "THE KENTUCKIAN IN NEW-YORK."


    IN TWO VOLUMES.
    VOL. I.

    NEW-YORK:
    PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS,
    NO. 82 CLIFF-STREET,
    AND SOLD BY THE PRINCIPAL BOOKSELLERS THROUGHOUT
    THE UNITED STATES.
    1834.


Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1834, by HARPER &
BROTHERS, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern
District of New-York.




THE CAVALIERS OF VIRGINIA.




CHAPTER I.


The romance of history pertains to no human annals more strikingly than
to the early settlement of Virginia. The mind of the reader at once
reverts to the names of Raleigh, Smith, and Pocahontas. The traveller's
memory pictures in a moment the ivy-mantled ruin of old Jamestown.

About the year 16--, the city of Jamestown, then the capital of
Virginia, was by no means an unapt representation of the British
metropolis; both being torn by contending factions, and alternately
subjected to the sway of the Roundheads and Royalists.

First came the Cavaliers who fled hither after the decapitation of their
royal master and the dispersion of his army, many of whom became
permanent settlers in the town or colony, and ever afterwards influenced
the character of the state.

These were the first founders of the aristocracy which prevails in
Virginia to this day; these were the immediate ancestors of that
generous, fox-hunting, wine-drinking, duelling and reckless race of men,
which gives so distinct a character to Virginians wherever they may be
found.

A whole generation of these Cavaliers had grown up in the colony during
the interregnum, and, throughout that long period, were tolerated by
those in authority as a class of probationers. The Restoration was no
sooner announced, however, than they changed places with their late
superiors in authority. That stout old Cavalier and former governor, Sir
William Berkley (who had retired to the shades of Accomack,) was now
called by the unanimous voice of the people, to reascend the vice-regal
chair.

Soon after his second installation came another class of refugees, in
the persons of Cromwell's veteran soldiers themselves, a few of whom
fled hither on account of the distance from the court and the magnitude
of their offences against the reigning powers. It will readily be
perceived even by those not conversant with the primitive history of the
Ancient Dominion, that these heterogeneous materials of Roundheads and
Cavaliers were not the best calculated in the world to amalgamate in the
social circles.

Our story commences a short time after the death of Cromwell and his
son, and the restoration of Charles the Second to the throne of his
fathers.

The city of Jamestown was situated upon an island in the Powhatan, about
twenty leagues from where that noble river empties its waters into those
of the Chesapeake Bay.

This island is long, flat on its surface, and presents a semicircular
margin to the view of one approaching from the southeast; indeed it can
scarcely be seen that it is an island from the side facing the
river--the little branch which separates it from the main land having
doubtless worn its way around by a long and gradual process.

At the period of which we write, the city presented a very imposing and
romantic appearance, the landscape on that side of the river being
shaded in the back ground by the deep green foliage of impenetrable
forests standing in bold relief for many a mile against the sky. Near
the centre of the stream, and nearly opposite the one just mentioned,
stands another piece of land surrounded by water, known to this day by
the very unromantic name of Hog Island, and looking for all the world
like a nest for pirates, so impenetrable are the trees, undergrowth, and
shrubbery with which it is thickly covered.

To prevent the sudden incursions of the treacherous savage, the city was
surrounded with a wall or palisade, from the outside of which, at the
northwestern end, was thrown a wooden bridge, so as to connect the first
mentioned island with the main land. A single street ran nearly parallel
with the river, extending over the upper half of the island and divided
in the centre by the public square. On this were situated the Governor's
mansion, state house, church, and other public buildings. Near where the
line was broken by the space just mentioned, stood two spacious
tenements, facing each other from opposite sides of the street. These
were the rival hotels of the ancient city; and, after the fashion of
that day, both had towering signposts erected before their respective
doors, shaped something like a gibbet, upon which swung monotonously in
the wind two huge painted sign-boards. These stood confronting each
other like two angry rivals--one bearing the insignia of the Berkley
arms, by which name it was designated,--and the other the Cross Keys,
from which it also received its cognomen. The Berkley Arms was the
rendezvous of all the Cavaliers of the colony, both old and young, and
but a short time preceding the date of our story, was honoured as the
place of assembly for the House of Burgesses.

The opposite and rival establishment received its patronage from the
independent or republican faction.

It was late in the month of May, and towards the hour of twilight; the
sun was just sinking behind the long line of blue hills which form the
southwestern bank of the Powhatan, and the red horizontal rays fell
along the rich volume of swelling waters dividing the city of Jamestown
from the hills beyond with a line of dazzling yet not oppressive
brilliance.

As the rich tints upon the water gradually faded away, their place was
supplied in some small degree from large lanterns which now might be
seen running half way up the signposts of the two hotels before
mentioned, together with many lights of less magnitude visible in the
windows of the same establishments and the various other houses within
reflecting distance of the scene. The melancholy monotony of the
rippling and murmuring waters against the long graduated beach now also
began to give place to louder and more turbulent sounds, as the <DW64>s
collected from their work to gossip in the streets--Indians put off from
the shore in their canoes, or the young Cavaliers collected in the
Berkley Arms to discuss the news of the day or perhaps a few bottles of
the landlord's best. On this occasion the long, well-scrubbed oaken
table in the centre of the "News Room" was graced by the presence of
some half dozen of the principal youths of the city. In the centre of
the table stood the half-emptied bottle, and by each guest a full bumper
of wine, and all were eager to be heard as the wine brightened their
ideas and the company received fresh accessions from without.

"Oh, here comes one who can give us some news from the Governor's," said
the speaker _pro tempore_, as a handsome and high-born youth of
twenty-one entered the room with a proud step and haughty mien, and
seated himself at the table as a matter of course, calling for and
filling up a wine glass, and leisurely and carelessly throwing his cap
upon the seat and his arm over the back of the next vacant chair, as he
replied--"No, I bring no news from the Governor's, but I mistake the
signs of the times if we do not soon hear news in this quarter."

All eyes were now turned upon the youth as he tossed off his wine. He
was generally known among his companions by the familiar name of Frank
Beverly, and was a distant kinsman and adopted son of the Governor, Sir
William Berkley. News was no sooner mentioned than our host, turning a
chair upon its balance, and resting his chin upon his hand, was all
attention.

"What is it, Frank?" inquired Philip Ludwell, his most intimate friend
and companion.

"Some mischief is brewing at the Cross Keys to-night," replied Frank, as
the landlord moved up his chair nearer to the table, more than ever on
the _qui vive_, when the Cross Keys became the subject of discussion.

"There is no one in the Tap of the Keys, as I can see from here," said
another of the party, "and there is no light in any other portion of the
house except the apartments of the family."

"They hide their lights under a bushel," continued Frank, with an
affected nasal twang and a smile of contempt. Taking his nearest
companion by the lappel of his doublet, and drawing him gently to where
the rival establishment was visible through the door--"Do you not see a
line of light just perceptible along the margin of the upper window? and
if you will observe steadily for a moment, you will see numerous dim
shadows of moving figures upon the almost impenetrable curtain which is
drawn over it."

"Master Beverly is right, by old Noll's nose," said the landlord, as
they all grouped together to catch a glimpse of the objects mentioned.

"You may well swear by Noll's nose in this case," returned Frank, "for
unless I am much mistaken, those motions and gestures proceed from some
of his late followers; indeed I know it. I was accidentally coming up
the alley-way between the Keys and the next house, when I saw four or
five of them cross the fence into the yard, and from thence enter the
house by the back door."

"That's true, I'll swear," said the host, "for there they are, some
dozen of them at least, and I'm a Rumper if a soul has darkened his
front door this night. But couldn't you, Master Beverly, or one of the
other young gentry, just step to the stout Sir William's, and make an
affidavy to the facts? My word for it, he'd soon be down upon 'em with a
fiery facias or a capias, or some such or another invention of the law."

The youths all burst into a loud cachinnation at the zeal of the
landlord to unmask his rival, and reseating themselves, called for
another bottle, which our friend of the Arms was not slow to produce, by
way of covering his retreat and hiding his disinterested zeal. As they
all refilled their glasses, Frank waved his hand for silence. "Has any
gentleman here seen Mr. Nathaniel Bacon very lately?"

"I have not--I have not," replied each of the party, and the
interrogator then continued, "I would give the best pair of spurs that
ever graced a Cavalier's heels to know whether his long absence has had
any thing to do with the getting up of yonder dark conclave?"

Whether any of the party were Bacon's immediate friends, or whether they
suspected Frank's motives in the case, we shall not undertake to
determine at present; but certain it is they were all silent on the
point except his intimate friend Ludwell, who replied--"By St. George,
Beverly, I believe you are jealous of Bacon on account of the favourable
light in which he is said to stand in the eyes of your fair little
mistress."

"If I thought that Virginia Fairfax would entertain a moment's
consideration for a person of such doubtful parentage and more doubtful
principles as Mr. Nathaniel Bacon, the ill-advised protege of her
father, I would forswear her for ever, and dash this glass against the
floor, with which I now invite you all to join me in pledging her,--What
say you? Will you join me, one and all?" All rose at the invitation, and
while standing with glasses suspended midway to their lips, Ludwell
added the name of "the pretty Harriet Harrison." It was drunk with three
times three, and then the landlord was brought up by the collar of his
jerken between two of the liveliest of the party, and made to tell the
reckoning upon the table with his well-worn chalk. Having settled the
score, they proceeded to decant full half the remaining bottle into one
of his own pint flagons, seized from his shelves for that purpose. "Mine
host" made sundry equivocal contortions of the countenance, and
practised by anticipation several downward motions of the muscles of
deglutition, and then swallowed the enormous potation without a groan.

"There now," said Ludwell, "bear it always in your remembrance that a
like fate awaits you, whenever your wine bears evidence of having passed
rather far into the state of acetous fermentation." As the party were
now leaving the room in pairs, linked arm in arm, "Stop! stop!" cried
Beverly; "I have one proposition to make before we separate. It is this.
You know that there is to be a grand celebration the day after
to-morrow, which is the anniversary of the restoration. The whole to
conclude with a ball at the Governor's, to which I feel myself
authorized to say that you will all be invited. Now I propose that we
all go at different hours to-morrow and engage the hand of the fair
Virginia for the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth sets. So
that when Mr. Nathaniel Bacon returns, as he assuredly will, to claim
her hand, to which he seems to think he has a prescriptive right, he
will find no less than six different successful competitors. What say
you, gentlemen?"

The proposition was instantly acceded to by all the party, and then the
landlord of the Arms was left to digest the pint of his own sour wine in
solitude, as he leaned his overgrown person against the casings of the
door and watched the youths as they departed one by one in different
directions to their respective places of abode.

"Natty Bacon is a goodly youth, however," he muttered in soliloquy; "ha,
ha, ha; but he shall know of the plot if I can only clap eyes on him
before they see the young lady. Let me see; can it be possible that
Natty can have any thing to do with yonder dark meeting of Noll's men?
I'll not believe it; he is too good a youth to meddle with such a
canting, snivelling set as are congregated there. He always pays his
reckoning like any gentleman's son of them all; and a gentleman's son
I'll warrant he is, for all that no one knows his father but Mr. Gideon
Fairfax."

The Cromwellians alluded to, who were supposed by the youths to be
assembled at the Cross Keys, were a few of the late Protector's veteran
soldiers, and were the most desperate, reckless and restless of the
republicans who, as has been already mentioned, had fled to Jamestown
after the restoration. These soldiers were unfitted for any kind of
business, and generally lived upon the precarious hospitality of those
of their own party who had settled themselves as industrious citizens of
the new community.

The names of the leaders of these veteran soldiers and furious bigots
were Berkinhead, Worley, Goodenough and Proudfit; and of these the
reader will hear more anon.




CHAPTER II.


Late in the afternoon of the day succeeding the one designated in the
last chapter, towards the southwestern extremity of the beach and
outside of the palisade, a young and gentle creature, of most surpassing
loveliness, moved thoughtfully along the sandy shore, every now and then
casting a wistful glance over the water, and as often heaving a gentle
sigh, as a shade of girlish disappointment settled upon her blooming
face. Her dress was simple, tasteful, and exquisitely appropriate to her
style of beauty. She had apparently scarce passed her sixteenth
birthday; and of course her figure was not yet rounded out to its full
perfection of female loveliness. So much of her neck as was visible
above a rather high and close cut dress, was of that pure, chaste and
lovely white which gives such an air of heavenly innocence to the
budding girl of that delightful age. The face although exceeding the
neck in the height, variety and richness of its colouring, was not
disfigured by a single freckle, scar or blemish. The features were
generally well proportioned and suited to each other, the lips full and
gently pouting, with a margin of as luxurious tinting as that with which
nature ever adorned the first budding rose of spring, and when parted,
as they often were, by the most gentle and _naive_ laughter, displayed
a set of teeth beautifully white and regular. Yet one could scarcely
fasten the eye upon them for the admiration excited by the exquisite
expression of the dimpled mouth, ever varying, and as it seemed, more
lovely with each succeeding change. The motion of her eyes was so rapid
that it was difficult to ascertain their colour; but certain it is they
were soft and brilliant, the latter effect produced in no small degree
by long fair dewy lashes which rose and fell over the picture, as lights
and shadows fall from the pencil of an inspired painter.

The fair flaxen ringlets fell beneath the small gipsey hat in short
thick curls, and were clustered around her brow, so as to form the most
natural and appropriate shade imaginable to a forehead of polished
ivory. She was about the medium height, symmetrically proportioned, with
an exquisitely turned ankle and little foot, which _now_ bounded over
the beach with an impatience only surpassed by her own impetuous
thoughts, as her eyes became intently riveted upon a moving speck upon
the distant waters. The wild and startled expression, excited in the
first moment of surprise, might now be seen merging into one of perfect
satisfaction, as the distant object began to grow into distinct outlines
at every plunge of the buoyant waves; her heart heaving its own little
current to her face in perfect unison with their boisterous movements.

A beautifully painted canoe soon ran its curled and fantastic head right
under the bank upon which she stood, and in the next moment a gallant
and manly youth leaped upon the shore by her side, and taking her
unresisting hand, gently removed the gipsey hat so as to bring into view
a certain crimsoning of the neck and half averted face. Nathaniel Bacon,
the youth just landed, was about twenty-one, and altogether presented an
appearance of the most attractive and commanding character. He wore a
green hunting jerken, buttoned close up to his throat so as to show off
to the best advantage a broad and manly chest. Upon his head was a broad
brimmed unstiffened castor, falling over his shoulders behind, and
looped up in front by a curiously wrought broach.

A small brass hunting horn swung beneath one shoulder, while to the
other was suspended a short cut and thrust sword. In his hand he bore a
fishing rod and tackle.

Few as evidently were his years, much painful thought had already
shadowed his handsome and commanding features with a somewhat precocious
maturity. It was obviously, however, not the natural temperament of the
man which now shone out in his features, after the subsiding of the
first glow of delighted feeling visible for an instant as he watched the
heightened bloom on the countenance of the maiden.

"You were not irreconcilably offended then at my rash and disrespectful
behaviour to your father at our last meeting?"

"Certainly not irreconcilably so, Nathaniel, if offended at all; but I
will confess to you candidly, that I was hurt and mortified, as much on
your own, as on my father's account."

"You are always kind, considerate and forgiving, Virginia, and it
behooves me in presence of so much gentleness, to ease my conscience in
some measure by a confession. You have sometimes, but I have never,
forgotten that I was thrown upon your father's hospitality an orphan and
an outcast. This fact constantly dwells upon my mind, and sometimes
harrows up my feelings to such a degree that I am scarcely conscious of
my words or actions. It was so on the occasion alluded to. I forgot your
presence, the respect due to your father and my benefactor, as well as
what was due to myself. I had been endeavouring to revive some of the
drunken reminiscences of that eccentric fellow who sits in the canoe
there, but they tended only to inflame my ardent desire to know
something more of myself. Certainly some allowances must be made for me,
Virginia, under the mortifying circumstances in which I am placed. I
thought your father could and ought to relieve this cruel suspense!"

"He will if he can, Nathaniel; and that he does not do so immediately,
is the best evidence to my mind either that he knows nothing on the
subject, or that some powerful reason exists why he should not disclose
his knowledge at present. Come, then, return with me to our house; my
father will take no notice of your absence or its cause, unless to jest
with you upon your want of success in your fishing expedition, which it
seems was the ostensible motive of your absence."

"It was my purpose to return, but I had not so amiably settled the how
and the when; indeed the objects I had in view were so urgent that I
determined to brave even your father's continued anger in order to
obtain an interview with you."

"With me, Nathaniel!"

"Ay, with you, Virginia! You know that