The Cavaliers of Virginia, vol. 2 of 2: or, The Recluse of Jamestown; An historical romance of the Old DominionCaruthers, William Alexander
History
The Cavaliers of Virginia, vol. 2 of 2: or, The Recluse of Jamestown; An historical romance of the Old Dominion
Caruthers, William Alexander
Virginia -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Fiction
Virginia was a sad and silent spectator of the imposing pageant. She
stood at her window facing one of the cross streets, through which their
march was directed, and examined the devices of banner after banner, as
they moved along in martial pomp, to the soul-inspiring music of the
drums and trumpets. No sympathizing emotions or half embodied
supplications to the Ruler of Nations for the safety of their persons or
the success of their arms burst from her lips. She saw the proud and
self-satisfied Beverly curvetting by on his equally proud steed; she
even saw him gayly wave his towering plumes in recognition of her
presence without an answering nod or a single indication of approval.
Her heart and hopes followed the standard of the youthful Captain who
commanded the force which these were summoned to scatter and destroy.
Long after the last ensign had passed from her sight, and the music was
heard only in faint and distant echoes as it swelled and died away upon
the air, she stood in the same spot, her eyes apparently still occupied
with passing objects. It was not so--she was endeavouring to look into
futurity. She pictured in her imagination the army of the Cavaliers,
under Bacon, struggling in the murderous ambuscade of the concentrated
savage tribes in front, and mercilessly cut down by their own countrymen
in the rear. She saw the stern and uncompromising Sir William and his
veteran compeers, brandishing their sabres over the heads of the younger
Cavaliers, and Beverly and Bacon engaged in the deadly contest of
personal rivalry and political hatred. Notwithstanding the disadvantages
of the latter's position, youthful hopes and a sanguine temperament,
awarded the victory to the cause which she believed the just one. She
had already, as by miracle, escaped a fate which she considered far more
to be deplored than death, and resolved to trust her own cause, and that
in which it was involved, to him who rules the destinies of battles. She
remembered, with feelings of adoration, that he had said that the race
was not always to the swift nor the battle to the strong.
CHAPTER VII.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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