Horse-Shoe Robinson: A Tale of the Tory Ascendency

by John Pendleton Kennedy

Lindsay's story, since we last parted from him, may be briefly told. He and Tyrrel had journeyed into the low country of Virginia, to meet the friends of the royal government. These had wavered, and were not to be brought together. A delay ensued, during which Tyrrel had prevailed upon Lindsay to extend his journey into North Carolina; whence, after an ineffectual effort to bring the Tory party to some decisive step, they both returned to the Dove Cote, having been nearly three weeks absent.

Upon their arrival, the afflicting intelligence met Lindsay of the departure of Mildred and her brother for the seat of war, Mildred's letter was delivered to him; and its contents almost struck him dumb. It related the story of Arthur Butler's misfortunes, and announced, that, for nearly a year past, Mildred had been the wedded wife of the captive officer. The marriage had been solemnized in the preceding autumn, in a hasty moment, as Butler travelled south to join the army. The only witnesses were Mistress Dimock, under whose roof it had occurred, Henry Lindsay, and the clergyman. The motives that induced this marriage were explained: both Mildred and Arthur hoped, by this irremediable step, to reconcile Lindsay to the event, and to turn his mind from its unhappy broodings: the increased exasperation of his feelings, during the succeeding period, prevented the disclosure which Mildred had again and again essayed to make. The recent dangers which had beset Arthur Butler, had determined her to fly to his rescue. As his wife she felt it to be her duty, and she had, accordingly, resolved to encounter the peril of the journey.

For a day or two after the perusal of this letter, Lindsay fell into a deep melancholy. His presentiments seemed to have been fatally realized, and his hopes suddenly destroyed. From this despondency, Tyrrel's assiduous artifice aroused him. He proposed to Lindsay the pursuit of his children, in the hope of thus luring him into Cornwallis's camp, and connecting him with the fortunes of the war. The chances of life, he reasoned, were against Butler, if indeed, as Tyrrel had ground to hope, that officer were not already the victim of the snares that had been laid for him.

Upon this advice, Lindsay had set out for Cornwallis's head-quarters, where he arrived within a week after the interview of Mildred and Henry with the British chief.

Whilst he delayed here, he received the tidings that his daughter had abandoned her homeward journey, and turned aside in quest of Butler. This determined him to continue his pursuit. Tyrrel still accompanied him; and the two travellers having arrived at the moment of the attack upon King's mountain, Lindsay was persuaded by his companion to make the rash adventure which, we have already seen, had been the cause of his present misfortune.

It is not my purpose to attempt a description of the scene in the cottage, where Arthur Butler and his wife, and Henry, first saw Lindsay stretched upon a rude pallet, and suffering the anguish of a dangerous wound. It is sufficient to say that, in the midst of the deep grief of the bystanders, Lindsay was composed and tranquil, like one who thought it vain to struggle with fate. "I have foreseen this day, and felt its coming," he muttered, in a low and broken voice; "it has happened as it was ordained. I have unwisely struggled against my doom. There, take it," he added, as he stretched forth his hand to Butler, and in tones scarcely audible breathed out, "God bless you, my children! I forgive you."

During the night fever ensued, and with it came delirium. The patient acquired strength from his disease, and raved wildly, in a strain familiar to his waking superstition. The same vision of fate and destiny haunted his imagination; and he almost frightened his daughter from beside his couch, with the fervid eloquence of his madness.

The cottage was situated near half a mile from the encampment of the army. Towards daylight, Lindsay had sunk into a slumber, and the attendant surgeon began to entertain hopes that the patient might successfully struggle with his malady. Mildred and Mary Musgrove kept watch in the apartment, whilst Butler, with Horse Shoe Robinson and Allen Musgrove, remained anxiously awake in the adjoining room. Henry Lindsay, wearied with the toils of the preceding day, and old Isaac the negro, not so much from the provocation of previous labor as from constitutional torpor, lay stretched in deep sleep upon the floor.

Such was the state of things when, near sunrise, a distant murmur reached the ears of those who were awake in the cottage. These sounds attracted the notice of Horse Shoe, who immediately afterwards stole out of the apartment and repaired to the camp. During his walk thither the uproar became more distinct, and shouts were heard from a crowd of soldiers who were discovered in a confused and agitated mass in the valley, at some distance from the encampment. The sergeant hastened to this spot, and, upon his arrival, was struck with the shocking sight of the bodies of some eight or ten of the Tory prisoners suspended to the limbs of a large tree.

The repose of the night had not allayed the thirst of revenge amongst the Whigs. On the contrary, the opportunity of conference and deliberation had only given a more fatal certainty to their purpose. The recent executions which had been permitted in Cornwallis's camp, after the battle of Camden, no less than the atrocities lately practised by some of the Tories who were now amongst the captured, suggested the idea of a signal retribution. The obnoxious individuals were dragged forth from their ranks at early dawn, and summary punishment was inflicted by the excited soldiery in the manner which we have described, in spite of all remonstrance or command.