# Duty and Inclination/Chapter 21

CHAPTER XXI.
"Whereto we 're bound? Alack or we must lose
The country."
However agreeable the town of W—— proved as a winter residence, yet it by no means afforded the advantages sought for in summer, when nature, blooming in vegetation and sweets, invites to the more peaceable and retired walks in life. A continuation of company and midnight parties had become irksome even to weariness; no sooner, therefore, had the winter months, with their gay festivities and amusements, passed away, than, anxious to diversify a mode of existence so little congenial to their sober tastes and former domestic habits, the General and his Lady hastened to resume their summer quarters at the Fort of D——. Thither then they resorted in the month of May, when the spring breezes are everywhere the most delightful and refreshing, but doubly so when inhaled from so elevated a position as the Fort.
​ The summer passed away joyous and pleasant as the former had been, and season succeeded to season, until three years had elapsed in uninterrupted prosperity and tranquillity. Contented with the department he held, and bounding his ambition to the sphere in which he then moved, De Brooke neither sought nor desired higher honours; happy in quiet possession of that station, the advantages of which were the more endeared to him as it had succeeded to so many trying afflictions.
Having obtained, by a timely application to Government, the object most agreeable to him, a renewal of his command, the General was the more gratified as it gave him a degree of assurance in the bright anticipations he indulged relative to the future welfare of his little family, independent of aid derived from his father.
In such reflections the past turmoils of his life were often forgotten, whilst he looked forward to years of increasing happiness. But of the deceitfulness at best of all earthly hopes, those of the General, erected on the same sandy foundation, proved an example.
Such were the views which the present peaceful and even tenor of General De Brooke's existence suggested during his three years' residence at the ​garrison, where he had then taken up his almost constant abode.
It was one afternoon, when all nature seemed to slumber in a still and deep repose, when scarce a sound was heard to vibrate, even from the foaming spray of Ocean as it laved the flinty rock, or even amongst the haunts of the soldiers, or more rude and undisciplined recruits;—foreboding fears, impending destiny, seemed to hang upon the silence—prophetic seemed the pause! Suddenly an express arrives—the drawbridge is thrown down—the gates are opened, and Captain Curtis, acting aid-de-camp to the General, spurring his courser white with foam, encrusted with dust, bounding forward at full gallop as he rode, dismounted at the door of his General, urging the necessity of an immediate interview. He was ushered breathless into the drawing-room, where Mrs. De Brooke, beguiled by the calm serenity of the evening, had sat later than usual at her tea-table. Captain Curtis, politely declining her offered cup, retired with the General, and entered at once upon the business which had caused his return to the Fort at so sudden and unexpected an hour.
Captain Curtis had been for a short time profiting by a leave of absence to reside with his family ​at the town of W——, where terminated the district under the General's command. But a short time previous to his leaving his native town, he had privately received information of a conspiracy, of a nature calculated to endanger the peace and safety of the country, which he had every reason to believe was actually at the present moment in a state of rebellion. His authority was unquestionable, and supported by facts of a most convincing kind, that ere tomorrow's sun the Irish peasants would be in arms, and to an incalculable amount: under such fearful tidings he had therefore conceived it incumbent upon him to lose no time in the communication of it,—thence hoping that, by the adoption of timely measures, the insurrection might be quelled, and consequently the blood of those ill-judged, desperate people spared.
Giving due and deep attention to what he heard, the General expressed amazement that the rebels had so well concerted their plans, that, like a mine ready to explode, the insurrection had been kept buried in silence and secrecy until the favourable moment had arrived,—or, like hidden embers, smothered, yet gathering strength till ready, as appeared the rebellious spirit at present, to burst into open flame.
​ "Infatuated and deluded people!" exclaimed he; "ever groaning under fancied wrongs, and sighing after imaginary blessings, ye cannot rest satisfied to enjoy the bounties which the hand of Providence has so amply lavished on your country. Arbitrary and coercive measures, therefore, must be resorted to; and I, contrary to my feelings and wishes, yet having your true interests at heart, am constrained to take up arms against you."
In a case so critical and dangerous, what other steps should he pursue? The fate of thousands, or even that of the country, might rest upon his decision: the consideration was awful. By sending an armed detachment against the rebels, he might check in its beginning their insurgent measures; but, on the other hand, a defeat, which their numbers rendered no improbable result, would aggravate the ill.
His aid-de-camp stated, as his firm persuasion, that the sending a body of troops to encounter the rebels could not but be attended with the happiest effects; that when brought into action against regular troops, an undisciplined force, such as they could bring into the field, must speedily surrender or be dispersed. Flattered by the profound attention with which he had been listened to, he continued to deliver himself in animated language.
​ "Let us gather laurels, General," said he, "by gaining an instantaneous and therefore decisive victory over this lawless band; let us strike a panic into the enemy, and Ireland, so long disturbed, will be restored to peace."
Captain Curtis, in the meridian of his years, of a sober judgment and undoubted discretion, led the General to give an over-weight to his opinions. Thus actuated, urged and impatient of delay, the General rose from his seat with looks of fire that spoke his martial zeal in the cause.
"To business," said he; "our time is precious! Apprise the officers commanding their respective detachments of my intention; call them instantly before me, that I may issue my orders preparatory to their march—Captain Blackwood of the artillery, Major Harrold of the line."
Scarcely an interval elapsed, when they were in the presence of their General, who conferred with them upon the necessity of marching without delay, to anticipate the views of the enemy: between their respective divisions of artillery and line, a body of three hundred men could be raised to act as a skirmishing party or advanced guard, in order to reconnoitre the strength of the enemy. Giving his orders to Major Harrold in particular, as the commander, the General, with the strictest ​junctions, warned him not to make any rash attack, but to await his coming in person; for such was his design,—intending, at the head of a second detachment, consisting of a larger number of troops that were quartered in the vicinity, as soon as night favoured the circumspection of his movements, to take the enemy by surprise at the first break of day.
This being arranged, Major Harrold, having promised faithful obedience, accompanied by his officers, descended to the parade, there to employ himself with the utmost dispatch in the muster of his men, who in less than an hour were under arms, and in readiness, previous to their departure, to be passed in review by their General.
It is true that the Fort, being but thinly armed, in sending thus forth the most effective of its forces, the garrison during the interval would be comparatively divested of power; but naturally impetuous, excited also by zeal in the country's cause, the General, under such urgent circumstances, felt that active measures were necessary to be adopted, and hoped, by one decisive blow, to extinguish the flames of rebellion. Thus animated himself, he exhorted the subalterns, and even the privates, with these words: "Go, my gallant friends; tomorrow we return victorious!" Then ​turning to Major Harrold, he for the last time repeated his instructions, peremptorily forbidding him to advance further than the Killaway Hill, but there to rally his forces and await his arrival, as being, not a point of view very favourable for making observations, but a most desirable position to be occupied; and from whence, ere the rebels had time to extend themselves, by their joint attack they would be instantly routed, as it was not to be supposed that so undisciplined a horde, however numerous, could stand against the assault of the brave men he had the honour to command.
So saying, the word being given, and the drawbridge let down, the General saw them depart.
Sorrowful and alone, Mrs. De Brooke had observed from her window the active preparations which had been making, and which, notwithstanding a few minutes' interview, employed in words of comfort and re-assurance from her husband, in spite of the courage she had summoned to her aid, sent an involuntary chill to her heart. In fearful expectation of the future, she looked with anxiety for his re-appearance. The General soon returned, but it was to employ himself in writing an express to collect the several companies of the foot regiment quartered within his district but a few miles distant,—ordering the officer in command to march ​with all diligence for the Fort, where he himself awaited their arrival, and was in readiness to head them, that with so considerable a reinforcement, in addition to those he had sent forward to reconnoitre, he might be enabled to make a successful attack upon the enemy.
These important orders were dispatched; and after an anxious interval of two hours, when evening had spread her sombre hues upon the earth, the stillness that had succeeded to the previous bustle was interrupted on a sudden by the arrival of the forces, and all was again in immediate motion; again the rattling of the artillery, the clash of arms, struck like a discordant knell upon the ears of Mrs. De Brooke. By an order from the General, the troops had halted beyond the drawbridge, where, every arrangement being made, accompanied by his aid-de-camp, he hastened to join them, giving but one parting embrace to his afflicted wife. With straining eyes she strove to catch the last parting glimpse of him who was all the world to her, but he had fled; he had turned the corner of the magazine, well stored with ammunition, and whose doors were now closing, having been opened to deal out the means of warfare.
The words "Tomorrow we shall meet again!" left on Mrs. De Brooke's ear their echo; they ​had been the last words of her husband. The night closed in, and she retired to her chamber, but not to rest; a sad presentiment and a thousand terrific images took possession of her, and when weary nature at last gave way, and she sunk asleep, it was but to start from her pillow, awakened by some torturing dream. "How awfully passes this night!" thought she; "Heaven grant it may only seem so from the effects of my own distempered fancy!"
Having pursued his course through this rebellious country, during the dead of night, the General, with his forces, arrived at the spot determined upon at the foot of the Killaway Hill, where he had given orders to Major Harrold to await his coming. But alas! to his astonishment, no trace of troops was there. The first suggestion occurring to the General was, that they had met with some forcible detention on their march; or they might have mistaken their route, notwithstanding the repeated explanations he had given.
But what flashed across his mind with the most poignant apprehension was, the thought that they might have proceeded further, encouraged on their march by an apparent tranquillity, until too far advanced to retreat, and that a rash engagement had followed! Thus impressed, in all the impetuosity of his character and disappointed zeal in ​the cause in which he had engaged, the General poured forth the most passionate invectives.
"I am betrayed!" exclaimed he; "my honour is compromised! I, who have always served my King with credit—what is life to me? I have never shrunk from danger, nor shall I now from death, let it come but with glory! Nothing remains, from the disobedience of my orders by Major Harrold, but to advance, let what will be the result!"
The General proceeded a few paces, and then called to his men to halt; he listened, anxious to catch some sound that might re-assure him that all was as it should be; the sound of steps, foretelling the approach of men, was all he heard; the night he considered would soon give place to the rising morn, when his troops must necessarily be in action, and might require some previous rest ere encountering the enemy.
Thus reflecting, he decided they should halt for the space of one hour; when, dismounting, he gave his horse to his orderly, and entered with his aid-de-camp a small farm-house, being officiously invited to do so by the owner, who, instantly upon the drawing near of the troops, had appeared on the look-out.
Under the most painful solicitude, the General asked him hastily whether a military force had ​passed his house; with a seeming air of stupid indifference the man answered in the negative, and then quickly placed refreshments, such as came within his reach, before his guests, urging them to partake with a zeal even greater than common hospitality demanded: his importunities, however, were in vain.
Captain Curtis, who had fixed a penetrating eye on his host, did not let pass unobserved the constrained look and air accompanying his words and actions, nor the sullen shade that passed his brow on their refusing his offered fare.
Unable to prevail on them to taste anything, the farmer next solicited them to repose, "having upstairs a room", he said, "at their service, containing a couple of beds."
"That I cannot accept under the present circumstances" said the General; "but, booted and spurred as I am, I will sit here on this bench within doors, provided that you," addressing himself to his aid-de-camp, "keep watch without, and give me the signal the moment the detachment appears in sight. May Heaven grant that the man speaks truth! delay in such a case is more to be desired than precipitation; ere one hour revolves I shall know better on what to decide. I am thirsty," added he, "and will even quaff of ​this pure beverage," pouring water from an earthen pitcher that stood on the table.
The glass was raised to his lips; but before he tasted its contents it was grasped from his hand.
"'Tis poisoned, General; beware!" whispered his aid-de-camp; "we are under the roof, or I am greatly mistaken, of a most notorious rebel. Examine the jug; it contains a sediment truly suspicious."
Not wishing to entertain private discourse, under the persuasion that it would be better to avoid showing mistrust, the General, turning hastily aside, fixed a searching eye on his host, in whose aspect nought appeared that might in any way dispel his doubts; but seeing no reason, whilst in expectation of the arrival of the troops, under Major Harrold, against taking a short repose, he followed his conductor into an adjoining room.
Accoutred as he was, with hat and sword, he sat himself down, the host having closed the door after him on retiring. Harassed in mind by the non-arrival of the troops, his thoughts were far too busily engaged to slumber; every moment irksome to him, he was on the point of suddenly rising, had not his impatience been diverted for an interval by the movements of his host. Feigning sleep, which his recumbent posture favoured, he had seen his ​door gently opened, and twice had the man thrust in his head, and peeped behind the wide opening made by its worn-out hinges, or skulked near to where he sat, stretched on the bench, his body supported by the wall; at last, starting up, the General's glance of fire fell upon that face of low cunning and mischievous expression.
"Villain!" exclaimed he, "what brings you here?"
"No offence, plase your honour; I came but to see if your honour slept."
"My aid-de-camp—my attendants!—where are they?" furiously rejoined the General.
"Without, an plase your honour; they be about kaping a look-out, as your honour desired."
"Whatever your design was, scoundrel, in breaking in upon me," said the General, "you may suppose it to be hidden in your own dark breast, but"—he hesitated ere he proceeded, thinking it better to make his way out of the house, rather than give aggravation to the villain's murderous designs.
Descending therefore the broken staircase, he flung open the outer door, when he was joined by those he sought, and to whom he instantly communicated his conviction that the rebel from whose hands he had just escaped had deceived him.
"The hour of halting has not yet expired," ​exclaimed he; "but we must hence, for that Major Harrold has advanced, contrary to my orders, so strongly enforced, there can be no longer doubt; perhaps he has even entered upon the attack; and no alternative remains but to hasten our march, that we may yet arrive in time to afford him assistance."
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
PRINTED BY RICHARD AND JOHN E. TAYLOR, RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET.