CHAPTER XXV.
DOMESTIC HAPPINESS, IN SPITE OF ADVERSE CIRCUMSTANCES.
When Colburne reached Port Hudson, it had capitulated; the stars andstripes were flying in place of the stars and bars. With a smile oftriumph he climbed the steep path which zig-zagged up the almostprecipitous breast--earth changing into stone--of the gigantic bluffwhich formed the river front of the fortress. At the summit was aplateau of nearly three-quarters of a mile in diameter, verdant withturf and groves, and pleasantly rolling in surface. He had never beenhere before; he and twelve thousand others had tried to come here on the27th of May, but had failed; and he paused to take a long look at thespot and its surroundings. Not a sign of fortification was visible,except five or six small semi-lunes of earth at different points alongthe edge of the bluff, behind which were mounted as many monstrous guns,some smooth-bore, some rifled. Solid shot from these giants had sunk theMississippi, and crippled all of Farragut's fleet but two in hisaudacious rush up the river. Shells from them had flown clean over thebluff, and sought out the farthest camps of Banks's army, bursting witha sonorous, hollow thunder which seemed to shake earth and atmosphere.On the land side the long lines of earthworks which had so steadily andbloodily repulsed our columns were all below the line of sight, hiddenby the undulations of the ground, or by the forest. The turf was tornand pitted by the bombardments; two-hundred-pound shells, thrown by thelong rifles of the fleet, lay here and there, some in fragments, someunexploded; the church, the store, and half a dozen houses, whichconstituted the village, were more or less shattered. The bullets of theUnion sharpshooters had reached as far as here, and had even gone quiteover and fallen into the Mississippi. A gaunt, dirty woman told Colburnethat on the spot where he stood a soldier of the garrison had beenkilled by a chance rifle-ball while drinking a glass of beer. Leavinghis cicerone, he joined a party of officers who were lounging in theshade of a tree, and inquired for the residence of Colonel Carter.
"Here you are," answered a lieutenant, pointing to the nearest house."Can I do any thing for you, Captain? I am his aid. I wouldn't adviseyou to call on him unless you have something very particular to say.Every body has been celebrating the surrender, and the Colonel isn'texactly in a state for business."
Colburne hesitated; but he had letters from Carter's wife andfather-in-law, and of course he must see him, drunk or sober. At thatmoment he heard a voice that he recognized; a voice that had demandedand obtained what he had not dared to ask for--a voice that, as he wellknew, _she_ longed for as the sweetest of earth's music.
"Hi! hi!" said the Colonel, making his appearance upon the unpainted,warped, paralytic verandah of his dwelling. Through the low-cut windowfrom which he issued could be seen a sloppy table, with bottles andglasses, and the laughing faces of two bold-browed, slatternly girls,the one seventeen, the other twenty. He had on an old dressing-gown,fastened around his waist with a sword-belt, and his trousers hung looseabout the heels of a pair of dirty slippers. His face was flushed andhis eyes bloodshot; he was winking, leering, and slightly unsteady.Colburne slunk behind a tree, humiliated for his sake, and ready to raveor weep as he thought of the young wife to whom this man's mere name wasa comfort.
"Hi! hi!" repeated Carter. "Where are all these fellows?"
The aid advanced and saluted. "Do you want any one, Colonel?"
"No, no. Don't want any one. What for? Celebrate it alone. Man enoughfor it."
Presently catching the eye of another officer, he again chuckled, "Hi!hi!"
The person thus addressed approached and saluted.
"I say," observed the Colonel, "I got letters last night addressedGeneral Carter--Brigadier-General John T. Carter. What do you think ofthat?"
"I hope it means promotion," said the officer. "Colonel, do you think weshall go into quarters?"
"No, no; no go into quarters; no go into quarters for us. Playedout--quarters. In ole, ole times, after fought a big battle, used tostop--look out good quarters, and stop. But now nix cum rouse the stop."
Back he reeled through the window, to sit down to his whiskey and water,amidst the laughter and rather scornful blandishments of the Secessionlasses.
Nevertheless I must see him, decided Colburne. "Ask Colonel Carter," hesaid to an orderly, "if he can receive Captain Colburne, who bringsletters and messages from Mrs. Carter."
In a minute the man returned, saluted and said, "The Colonel sends hiscompliments and asks you to walk in, sir."
When Colburne entered Carter's presence he found him somewhat sobered inmanner; and although the bottles and glasses were still on the table,the bold-faced girls had disappeared.
"Captain, sit down. Take glass plain whiskey," were the Colonel's firstwords. "Good for your arm--good for every thing. Glad you got offwithout a--cut-off."
He would have used the word amputation, only he knew that his tonguecould not manage it.
"Thank you, Colonel. Here are two letters, sir, from Mrs. Carter and theDoctor. Just as I was leaving, when it was too late to write, Mrs.Carter charged me to say to you that her father had decided to go atonce to New Orleans, so that your letters must be directed to herthere."
"I understand," answered Carter slowly and with the solemnity ofenforced sobriety. "Thank you."
He broke open his wife's letter and glanced hurriedly through it.
"Captain, I'm 'bliged to you," he said. "You've saved my wife fromim-prisn--ment. She's 'bliged to you. You're noble fellah. I chargemyself with your pro--mosh'n."
It was so painful to see him struggle in that humiliating manner toappear sober, that Colburne cut short the interview by pretexting anecessity of reporting immediately to his regiment.
"Come to-morrow," said Carter. "All right to-morrow. Business to-morrow.To-day--celebrash'n."
The Colonel, although not aware of the fact, was far advanced in the wayof the drunkard. He had long since passed the period when it wasnecessary to stimulate his appetite for spirituous liquors by sugar,lemon-peel, bitters and other condiments. He had lived through the eraof fancy drinks, and entered the cycle of confirmed plain whiskey. Atthe New Orleans bars he did not call for the fascinating mixtures forwhich those establishments are famous; he ran his mind's eye wearilyover the milk-punches, claret-punches, sherry-cobblers, apple-toddies,tom-and-jerries, brandy-slings, and gin-cocktails; then said in aslightly hoarse _basso profondo_, "Give me some plain whiskey." He hadswallowed a great deal of strong drink during the siege, and since thesurrender he had not known a sober waking moment. His appetite was poor,especially at breakfast. His face was constantly flushed, his body hadan appearance of being bloated, and his hands were tremulous.Nevertheless, obedient to a delusion common to men of his habits, he didnot consider himself a hard drinker. He acknowledged that he gotintoxicated at times and thoroughly, but he thought not more frequentlyor thoroughly than the average of good fellows. He was kept incountenance by a great host of comrade inebriates in the old service andin the new, in the navy as well as in the army, in high civilianposition and at the front, in short throughout almost every grade andclass of American society. He could point to men whose talents andpublic virtues the nation honors, and say, "They get as drunk as I do,and as often." He could point to such cases on this side of the waterand on the other. Does anybody remember the orgies of the _viri clari etvenerabili_, who gathered at Boston to celebrate the obsequies of JohnQuincy Adams, and at Charleston to lament over the remains of John C.Calhoun? Does anybody remember the dinner speeches on board of SirCharles Napier's flagship, just before the Baltic fleet set out forCronstadt? Latterly this vice has increased upon us in America, thanksto the reaction against the Maine liquor law, thanks to the war. Perhapsit is for the best; perhaps it is a good thing that hundreds of leadingAmericans and hundreds of thousands of led Americans should bedrunkards; it may be, in some incomprehensible manner, for the interestof humanity. To my unenlightened mind the contrary seems probable; but Iam liable to error, and sober at this moment of writing: a pint ofwhiskey might illuminate me
to see behind the veil. It is wonderful tome, a member of the guzzling Anglo-Saxon race, that the abstemious Latinnations have not yet got the better of us. Nothing can account for it,unless it is that spiritual, and intellectual, and political tyrannymore than counterbalance the advantages of temperance. Boozing JohnBull and Jonathan have kept an upper hand because their geographicalconditions have enabled them to remain free; and on their impregnableislands and separated quarters of the globe they have besottedthemselves for centuries with political impunity.
Next day, as Carter had promised, he was able to attend to business. Hisfirst act was to issue an order assigning Captain Colburne to his staffas "Acting Assistant Adjutant-General, to be obeyed and respectedaccordingly." When the young officer reported for duty he found theColonel sober, but stern and gloomy with the woful struggle against hismaniacal appetite, and shaky in body with the result of the bygonedebauch.
"Captain," said he, "I wish you would do me the favor to join my mess. Iwant a temperance man. No more whiskey for one while!--By the way, I oweyou so much I never can repay you for saving my wife from those savages.If admiration is any reward, you have it. My wife and her father bothoverflow with your praises."
Colburne bowed and replied that he had done no more than his duty as anofficer and a gentleman.
"I am glad it was you who did it," replied the Colonel. "I don't knowany other person to whom I would so willingly be under such anobligation."
It was certainly rather handsome in Carter that he should cheerfullypermit his wife to feel admiration and gratitude towards so handsome ayoung man as Colburne.
"That infernal poltroon of a Gazaway!" he broke out presently. "I oughtto have cashiered him long ago. I'll have him court-martialed and shot.By the way, he was perfectly well when you saw him, wasn't he?"
"I should think so. He looked like a champion of the heavy weights. Themere reflection of his biceps was enough to break a looking-glass."
"I thought he had run away from the service altogether. He came up tothe regiment once during the siege. The officers kicked him out, and hedisappeared. Got in at some hospital, it seems--By (this and that) threequarters of the hospitals are a disgrace to the service. They areasylums for shirks and cowards. I wish you would make it your firstbusiness to inform yourself of all Gazaway's sneakings--misbehavior inpresence of the enemy, you understand--violation of the fifty-secondarticle of war--and draw up charges against him. I want charges thatwill shoot him."
Here I may as well anticipate the history of the Major. When the chargesagainst him were forwarded, he got wind of them, and, making a personalappeal to high authority, pleaded hard for leave to resign on asurgeon's certificate of physical disability. The request was grantedfor some mysterious reason, probably of political origin; and thisvulgar poltroon left the army, and the department with no officialstigma on his character. On reaching Barataria he appealed to hisfaithful old herd of followers and assailed Colonel Carter and CaptainColburne as a couple of aristocrats who would not let a working man holda commission.
Two days subsequent to Colburne's arrival at Port Hudson the brigadesailed to Fort Winthrop and from thence followed the trail of theretreating Texans as far as Thibodeaux, where Carter established hishead-quarters. A week later, when the rebels were all across theAtchafalaya and quiet once more prevailed in the Lafourche Interieur, hesent to New Orleans for his wife, and established her in a prettycottage, with orange trees and a garden, in the outskirts of the littleFrench American city. The Doctor's plantation house had been burned, hisagricultural implements destroyed, and his cattle eaten or driven awayby the rebels, who put a devout zeal into the task of laying waste everyspot which had been desecrated by the labor of manumitted bondsmen. Hisgrand experiment of reorganizing southern industry being thus knocked onthe head, he had applied for and obtained his old position in thehospital. Lillie wept at parting from him, but nevertheless flew to livewith her husband.
The months which she passed at Thibodeaux were the happiest that she hadever known. The Colonel did not drink; was with her every moment that hecould spare from his duties; was strongly loving and noisily cheerful,like a doting dragoon as he was; abounded with attentions and presents,bouquets from the garden, and dresses from New Orleans; was uneasy tomake her comfortable, and exhibit his affection. The whole brigade knewher, and delighted to look at her, drilling badly in consequence ofinattention when she cantered by on horseback. The sentinels, when notwatched by the lieutenant of the guard, gratified themselves and amusedher with the courteous pleasantry of presenting arms as she passed. Suchofficers as were aristocratic enough or otherwise fortunate enough toobtain a bowing acquaintance, still more to be invited to her receptionsand dinner parties, flattered her by their evident admiration anddevotion. A second lieutenant who once had a chance to shorten herstirrup leather, alluded to it vain-gloriously for weeks afterward, andreceived the nickname from his envious comrades of "Acting AssistantFlunkey General, Second Brigade, First Division, Nineteenth Army Corps."It made no difference with the happy youth; he had shortened the stirrupof the being who was every body's admiration; and from his pedestal ofgood fortune he smiled serenely at detraction. Lillie was the queen, thegoddess, the only queen and goddess, of the Lafourche Interieur. In thewhole district there was no other lady, except the wives of twocaptains, who occupied a much lower heaven, and some bitterSecessionists, who kept aloof from the army, and were besides wofullyscant in their graces and wardrobe. The adulation which she received didnot come from the highest human source, but it was unmixed, unshared,whole-souled, constant. She thought it was the most delightful thingconceivable to keep house, to be married, to be the wife of ColonelCarter. If she had been twenty-five or thirty years old, a veteran ofsociety, I should be inclined to laugh at her for the child-likepleasure she took in her conditions and surroundings; but only twenty,hardly ever at a party, married without a wedding, married less than sixmonths, I sympathise with her, rejoice with her, in her unaccustomedintoxication of happiness. It was curious to see how slowly she gotaccustomed to her husband. For some time it seemed to her amazing andalmost incredible that any man should call himself by such a title, andclaim the familiarity and the rights which it implied. She frequentlyblushed at encountering him, as if he were still a lover. If she met thebold gaze of his wide-open brown eyes, she trembled with an inwardthrill, and wanted to say, "Please don't look at me so!" He couldtyrannize over her with his eyes; he could make her come to him and tryto hide from them by nestling her head on his shoulder; he used towonder at his power, and gratify his vanity as well as his affection, byusing it.
An officer of the staff, who believed in the marvels of the so-calledpsychologists, observed the emotion awakened in the wife by thehusband's gaze, and mentioned it to Colburne as a proof of the actualityof magnetico-spiritualistic influence. The Captain was not convinced,and felt a strong desire to box the officer's ears. What right had thefellow to make the movements and inclinations of that woman's soul anobject of curiosity and a topic of conversation? He offered no reply tothe remark, and glared in a way which astonished the other, who had thewant of delicacy common to men of one idea. Colburne divined Mrs. Cartertoo well to adopt the magnetic theory. Judging her nature out of thedepths of his own, he believed that love was the true and all-sufficientexplanation of her nervousness under the gaze of her husband. It was apainful belief: firstly, for the very natural reason that he was nothimself the cause of the emotion; secondly, because he feared that theColonel might be a blight to the delicate affection which clasped himwith its tendrils.
His relations with both were the most familiar, the frankest, thekindest. When Carter could not ride out with his wife, he detailedColburne for the agreeable duty. When Mrs. Carter made a visit toheadquarters, and did not find the Colonel there, she asked for theadjutant-general. The friend sent the lady bouquets by the hands of thehusband. Carter knew to some extent how Colburne adored Lillie, but hehad a fine confidence in the purity and humility of the adoration, andhe tru
sted her to him as he would have trusted her to her father. TheCaptain was not a member of the family: the cottage was too far from hisofficial duties to allow of that; but he dined there every Sunday, andcalled there every other evening. Ravenel's letters to one or the other,were the common property of both. If Lillie did not hear from her fathertwice a week, and therefore became anxious about him, because it was theyellow fever season, or because of the broad fact that man is mortal,she applied to Colburne as well as to her husband for comfortingsuggestions and assurances. In company with some chance fourth, thesethree had the gayest evenings of whist and euchre. Lillie never lookedat her cards without exciting the laughter of the two men, by declaringthat she hadn't a thing in her hand--positively not a singlething--couldn't take a trick--not one. She talked perpetually, told whathonors she held, stole glances at her opponent's hand, screamed withdelight when she won, and in short violated all the venerable rules ofwhist. She forgot the run of the cards, trumped her partner's trick, leddiamonds when he had trashed on hearts, led the queen when she held aceand king. To her trumps she held on firmly, never showing them till thelast moment, and scolding her partner if he called them out. Sheinvariably claimed the deal at the close of each hand, thereby gettingit oftener than she had a right to it. But she might do what shepleased, sure that those who played with her would not complain. Wasshe not queen and goddess, Semiramis and Juno? Who would rebel, even inthe slightest particular, against the dominion of a happiness whichoverflowed in such gayety, such confidence in all around, suchunchangeable amiability?
She was in superb health of body, and spirit without a pain, or a sicklymoment, or a cloud of foreboding, or a thrill of pettishness. A physicalcalmness so deliciously placid as to remind one of that spiritual peacewhich passeth understanding, bore her gently through the summer, smilingon all beholders. Do you remember the serene angel in the first pictureof Cole's Voyage of Life, who stands at the helm of the newly launchedbark, guiding it down the gentle river? It is the mother voyaging withher child, whether before its birth or after. Just now she looked muchlike this angel, only more frolicsomely happy. Her blue eyes sparkledwith the lustre of health so perfect that the mere consciousness of alife was a pleasure. Her cheeks, usually showing more of the lily thanof the rose, were so radiant with color that it seemed as if every throbof emotion might force the blood through the delicate skin. Her arms,neck and shoulders were no longer Dianesque, but rounded, columnal,Junonian. It was this novel, this almost superwomanly health which gaveher such an efflorescence of happiness, amiability and beauty.
She had repeatedly hinted to her husband that she had a secret to tellhim. When he asked what it was she blushed, laughed at him for thequestion, and declared that he should never know it, that she had nosecret at all, that she had been joking. Then she wondered that heshould not guess it; thought it the strangest thing in the world that heshould not know it. At last she made her confession: made it to himalone, with closed doors and in darkness; she could no more have told itin the light of day than in the presence of a circle. Then for manyminutes she nestled close to him with wet cheeks and clinging arms,listening eagerly to his assurances of love and devotion, hungeringunappeaseably for them, growing to him, one with him.
After this Carter treated his wife with increased tenderness. Nothingthat she desired was too good for her, or too difficult to get. Hesought to check the constant exercise which she delighted in, andespecially her long rides on horseback; and when with a sweet, laughingwilfulness she defied his authority, he watched her with evidentanxiety. He wrote about it all to her father, and the consequence was avisit from the Doctor. This combination of natural potentates wasvictorious, and equestrianism was given up for walking and tendingflowers. At this time she had so much affection to spare that shelavished treasures of it, not only on plants, but on birds, cats, dogs,and ponies. Here Colburne drifted into the circle of her sympathies. Hewas fond of pets, especially of weak ones, for instance liking catsbetter than dogs, and liking them all the more because most peopleabused and, as he contended, misunderstood them. He had stories to tellof feline creatures who had loved him with a love like that of Jonathanfor David, passing the love of woman. There was the abnormally sensitiveTabby who pined away with grief when his mother died, and theuncomformably intelligent Tom who persisted in getting into his trunkwhen he was packing it to go to the wars.
"I am confident," he asserted, "that Puss knew I was about to leave, andwanted to be taken along."
Lillie did not question it; all love, even that of animals, seemednatural to her; she felt (not thought) that love was the teacher of thesoul.
By the way, Colburne's passion for pets had deep roots in his character.It sprang from his pitying fondness for the weak, and was closelyrelated to his sympathies with humanity. It extended to the feeblermembers of his own race, such as children and old ladies, whom, hebefriended and petted whenever he could, and who in return granted himtheir easily-won affection. For flowers, and in general for inanimatenature, he cared little; never could be induced to study botany, nor tounderstand why other people should study it; could not see any humaninterest in it. Geology he liked, because it promised, he thought, someknowledge of the early history of man, or at least of the grand cosmicalpreparation for his advent. Astronomy was also interesting to him,inasmuch as we may at some future time traverse sidereal spaces. Themost interesting star in the heavens, to his mind, was that one in thePleiades which is supposed to be the central sun of our solar andplanetary system. Around this all that he knew and all whom he lovedrevolved, even including Mrs. Carter.
I presume that this summer was the happiest period in the life of theColonel. He was in fine health, thanks to his present temperate ways,although they reduced his weight so rapidly that his wife thought he wassick, and became alarmed about him. He frequently recommended marriageto Colburne, and they had long conversations on the subject; not,however, before Mrs. Carter, whose entrance always caused the Captain todrop the subject. The Telemachus was as fully persuaded of the benefits,happiness and duty of wedded life as the Mentor, and was much the besttheorizer.
"I believe," he said, "that neither man nor woman is a complete natureby himself or herself, and that you must unite the two in one beforehumanity is perfected, and, to use an Emersonianism, comes full circle.The union is affection, and the consecration of it is marriage. Youremember Baron Munchausen's horse; how he was cut in two, and the halvesgot on very poorly without each other; and how they were reunited withmutual benefit. Now this is the history of every bachelor and singlewoman, who having miserably tried for a while to go it alone, finallycoalesce happily in one flesh."
"By Jove, Captain, you talk like a philosopher," said the Colonel. "Youought to write something. You ought to practice, too, according to yourpreaching. There is Mrs. Larue, now. No," he added seriously. "Don'ttake her. She isn't worthy of you. You deserve the best."
Colburne was a better conversationalist than Carter, except in the wayof small talk with comparative strangers, wherein the latter'sconfidence in himself, strengthened by habits of authority, gave him aneasy freedom. Indeed, when Carter was actually brilliant in society, youmight be sure he had taken five or six plain whiskeys, and that five orsix more (what a head he sported!) would make him moderately drunk. Ifmy readers will go back to the dinner at Professor Whitewood's, and theevening which followed it, and the next day's pic-nic when he was underthe influence of a whiskey fever, they will see the best that he coulddo as a talker. With regard to subjects which implied ever so littlescholarship, the Colonel accorded the Captain a facile admiration whichat first astonished the latter. Talking one day of the earth-works ofPort Hudson, Colburne observed that the Romans threw up fieldfortifications at the close of every day's march, one legion standingunder arms to protect the workmen, while another marched out and formedline of battle to cover the foragers. If the brigade commander had everknown these things, he had evidently forgotten them. He looked atColburne with undisguised astonishment, and set
him down from thatmoment as a fellow of infinite erudition. This was far from being theonly occasion on which the volunteer captain was led to notice thenarrow professional basis from which most of the officers of the oldservice talked and thought. Now and then he met a philosopher likePhelps, or a chemist like Franklin; but in general he found them aslittle versed in the ways and ideas of the world as so many oldsea-captains; and even with regard to their own profession they werenarrowly practical and technical.
Amidst all these pleasant sentiments and conversings, Carter had hisperplexities and anxieties. He was spending more than his income, andneither knew how to increase it, nor how to curtail his outlay. Besideshis colonel's pay he had no resources, unless indeed dunning letterscould be made into negotiable paper. He was not very sensitive on thesubject of these missives; and in fact he was what most people wouldconsider disgracefully callous to their influence; but he looked forwardwith alarm to a time when his credit might fail altogether, and his wifemight suffer for luxuries.
Miss Ravenel's conversion from secession to loyalty Page 28