CHAPTER XXI
Through the great heat of July, 1862, the war went on its inconclusiveway. In Westways, as elsewhere, the call of the people's President forthree hundred thousand men was felt the more thoughtfully because now itwas, of course, known that Penhallow was Colonel of the 129th Infantry;that he had made a great sacrifice of money was also known, but notunderstood, and Ann Penhallow's half-forgotten politics were againdiscussed when the village evening parliament met in front of thepost-office.
Mrs. Crocker, off duty, stood framed in the door, cooling her roundface with a palmetto fan and listening with interest to the talk ortaking part in the discussion in so positive a way as was felt to beindiscreetly feminine, but respected on account of her officialrepresentation of a husband too deaf to fulfil his duties.
The Doctor got out of his gig. "Any letters from my boy?"
"Yes, two. Wanted to send them by Billy, but he's war-wild and wouldn'tgo." The Doctor looked over his letters.
"All right, I hope," said Mrs. Crocker.
Pole in his shirt sleeves listening said, "Of course, he is allright--doctors don't fight none."
"Send your son, Pole, before you talk nonsense," said McGregor. "My boygot a ball in his leg at Malvern Hill."
"My son's going along with the Squire," returned Pole, "leaves me shortof help, and my wife's about crazy over it."
"What about Mrs. Penhallow?" said Mrs. Crocker. "I guess she's the kindthat don't show what she feels."
"Oh, money's a great comforter," returned the butcher. "What I'm to do, Idon't know."
"Well, I'm going too," said Joe Grace, "and father says I'm right."
"Oh, here's the parson," said Pole, as Rivers approached. "He's like therest of them--all for war."
"Well, Pole," said Rivers, "how are you and Mrs. Crocker? I think you aregetting thin this hot weather."
"Am I? No such good luck. We are talking war, Mr. Rivers. I do hear thatwhat with the mill-boys and country fellows there's some thirty goinginto the Colonel's regiment."
"So I hear. On Sunday I mean to talk to them after service. You might sayso."
"I will. If I had a boy, he should go," said Mrs. Crocker.
"It's easy talking when you haven't none," said Pole. "We are gettin'licked, and some day Lee will be over the border. It's just useless tospend money and cripple men."
There was a moment of silence, when Mrs. Crocker spoke. "Pole, youaren't ever sure of your legs. You were all for Buchanan, and then allfor Lincoln. Now you're uneasy on the top rail of the fence and the railain't round." The parliament broke into laughter, and with more talkdissolved after some critical wisdom about the war.
* * * * *
It was July 30th, after ten at night, the day before the final Sunday ofthe month. The Colonel of the 129th stood with Leila before a big warmap. "This fight at Malvern Hill"--he put a pin on the place--"was amistake on the part of Lee, and yet he is a master of the game. He wasterribly beaten--an aggressive general would have attacked at once."
"Would he have won, uncle?"
"I think so--but after a defeat these armies are as dangerous as acornered cat."
"But, dear Uncle Jim, what is the matter with us?--We have men, money andcourage."
"Well, this is how I see it. Neither side has a broad-minded General incommand of the whole field of war. Every day sees bits of fights,skirmishes, useless loss of life. There is on neither side any connectedscheme of war. God knows how it will end. I do not yet see the man. IfRobert Lee were in absolute command of all the effective force of theSouth, we would have trouble."
"But if he is so good a soldier, why did he make what you call a frontalattack on entrenched troops at Malvern?"
"My dear, when two men spar and neither can quite end the fight, onegets angry or over-confident and loses his head, then he does somethingwild--and pays for it."
"I see. You leave on Monday?"
"Yes--early."
"Mr. Rivers means to talk after service to the men who are enlisting."
"So he told me. I begged him to be moderate."
"He asked me for a text, uncle."
"Well!"
"I gave him the one about Caesar and God."
"What put that into your head--it does not seem suitable?"
"Oh, do you think so? Some one once mentioned it to me. I could preach onit myself, but texts grow wonderfully in his hands. They glow--oh, theyget halos about them. He ought to be in a great city."
"Oh, my dear, Mark Rivers has his limitations like all of us. He woulddie. Even here he has to be watched. McGregor told him last year that hewas suffering from the contagion of other people's wickedness withoccasional acute fits of over-conscientiousness. Rivers said it wasincomprehensible nonsense; he was almost angry."
"And yet it is true, Uncle Jim."
"I'm glad I haven't the disease. I told McGregor as much. By George! hesaid my variety of the disorder was about other folk's stupidity. Then,when I said that I didn't understand him, he laughed. He makes me furiouswhen he only laughs and won't answer--and won't explain."
"Why, uncle! I love to see him laugh. He laughs all over--he shakes. Itold him it was a mirthquake. That set him off again. Was Tom McGregorbadly hurt?"
"No, not badly."
"Will aunt go to church to-morrow?"
"No."
"I thought she would not. I should love to see you in uniform."
"Not here, my dear, but I will send you a daguerreotype."
* * * * *
When on this Sunday long remembered in Westways, the tall figure of MarkRivers rose to open the service, he saw the little church crowded, theaisles filled, and in the front pews Penhallow, his niece, and behindthem the young men who were to join his regiment. Grace had asked his ownpeople to be present, and here and there were the mothers and sisters ofthe recruits, and a few men on crutches or wasted by the fevers of theVirginia marshes. Mark Rivers read the morning service as few men knowhow to read it. He rarely needed the prayer-book--he knew it all. He gaveto it the freshness of a new message of love and helpfulness. More thanever on this Sunday Leila felt a sense of spiritual soaring, ofpersonally sharing the praises of the angel choir when, looking upwards,he said: "Therefore with angels and archangels and all the company ofheaven we laud and magnify Thy glorious name." She recalled that John hadsaid, "When Mark Rivers says 'angels and archangels' it is like the clashof silver cymbals."
He gave out at the close his favourite hymn, "Lead, Kindly Light." It waswell and sweetly sung by the girl-choir. As the music closed he rose--afigure of command, his spare frame looking larger for his robes. For asilent moment his eloquent eyes wandered over the crowd, gathering theattentive gaze of young and old, then he said: "I want to talk on thisunusual occasion for a little while, to you who are answering the call ofa man who is like a father calling his sons to a task of danger. My textis: 'Render, therefore, unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's and untoGod the things that are God's.' The wonder of the great texts is thatthey have many applications as time runs on. You know the familiar story.Payment of the tax meant obedience to the Government, to law, to order. Iwould that I had the power to make you see with me the scene. It is to meso very distinct. The Pharisees desire to tempt him, a Jew, into astatement treasonable to the Roman rule they had accepted. Was it rightfor the Jew to pay the tax which sustained this Government? He had, asyou may remember, already paid it for Peter and himself. He asks for thepenny bearing Caesar's head and answers them in the words of the text,'Render unto Caesar, therefore, the things which are Caesar's.' Hereturns the penny. I wonder where that little coin is to-day? It hasgone, but the lesson it read remains forever; nor even today is thePharisee gone with his invidious temptations. _You_ are to-day obeying agreater than Caesar. _You_ are meeting the material obligations of a dayof discouragement--and for some a day of doubt.
"The nobler applications which lie within the meaning of the latter partof the te
xt He answers more fully than was asked: 'Render unto God thethings which are God's.' What are these things which are at need to berendered to Him? What larger tax? Ease--comfort--home--the strong bodieswhich make work safe and pleasant. He asks of you the exercise of unusualqualities--the courage which looks death in the face and will not takethe bribe of safety, of life, at the cost of dishonour. Ah! not in battleis my fear for you. In the long idleness of camps will come your hours oftemptation. Think then of those at home who believe in you. It is a greatthing to have an outside conscience--wife, mother, sister. Those arehours when it is hard to render unto God what he gave.
"We are now, as I said, at a time of discouragement. There are cowardswho would yield--who would compromise--men who want peace at any cost.You answer them nobly. Here, in this sacred cause, if He asks it, werender life or the easy competencies of youth in its day of vigour."
The man paused. The strange power of the eyes spoke to them in thismoment of silence. "Oh! I said the cause was sacred--an unbroken land._He_ gave you that, just for wide-world uses. Keep it! Guard it!--withall that Union of the States meant and still means to-day. _You_ are notto blame for this necessity--war. The man who bends unpaid over themaster's cotton-field is the innocent cause of all this bloodshed. Ifthere were no slavery, there would have been no war. But let there beno hatred in the brave hearts you carry. God did not slay Saul, theearnest--I might say--the honest persecutor. He made him blind for atime. The awful charity of God is nowhere else so wonderful. Thesegallant people you are going to meet will some day see that God wasopening their eyes to better days and nobler ways. They too are honestin the belief that God is on their side. Therefore, let there be nobitterness.
"Some of you are what we call religious. Do not be ashamed of it.The hardest fighters the world has known were men who went to battlewith arms invisible to man. A word more and I have done. I have thehope--indeed the certainty--that I shall be sent to the field on errandsof mercy and helpfulness. We may meet again. And now, take with you theearnest will to render unto God what things He gave for His highest uses.Now let us offer the prayer for the volunteers our great Bishop desiresthe Church to use. Let us pray."
In unusual silence the congregation moved away, a silence shared by Leilaand her uncle. At last she said, "Uncle Jim, I wish Aunt Ann could haveheard that sermon--it could not have hurt her."
"Perhaps not."
"I wonder why she has so great a respect for him, so real a friendship.He thinks slavery the sin of sins. He has very little charity aboutit--oh, none--and Aunt Ann is as sure it is a divinely appointedrelation."
"They fought it out, my dear, in his early days at Westways, and whenthey both found that they were clad in the armour of changeless beliefsno arguments could penetrate, they gave up and took of two fine natureswhat was left for life's uses and became friends. At least, that is howMcGregor put it. He sometimes states things well."
"I see," said Leila thoughtfully, and set herself to thinking whether ifshe had radical differences of opinion with some one, she could settleinto a condition of armed neutrality. Then she wondered if war madechanges in the character of a man.
Presently she asked, "Why, Uncle Jim, are you suddenly in such haste togo?"
"There is need of haste. I could not tell Ann; I can tell you. We werenever worse off since the war began. The Governor asks me to meet himin Harrisburg. What he fears is that in September Lee will cross thePotomac, with the hope of Maryland rising. Our Governor will call outfifty thousand militia. He wants me to take a command; I shall take it,but Lee's veterans would brush our militia away like summer flies. If hefinds the Army of the Potomac before him, there may be a different story.I hope, please God, to be with it. There you have all I know, but it isfor you alone. My regiment will go to the front before the end of themonth."
"You will write to me, uncle."
"Yes, when I can. Your aunt asks me to write often, but not to writeabout the war, as if--well, no matter. But I can write to you. Goodnight--and be brave, dear--and Ann! You will watch over her?"
"Yes, surely."
* * * * *
Ann Penhallow having sorrowfully made up her mind that her husband'shonour required his return to the army saw to it with her usualefficiency that everything he might need was carefully provided. Atbed-time of that Sunday she said quietly, "Good night and good-bye,James. I do not want to be called to-morrow to say good-bye. You will beoff by six. Leila will give you your breakfast. Write often." She was toappearance cheerful and even gay, as she paused on the stairs laughing."These men," she cried, "I wonder how they do without women orderlies.At the last moment I found you had left your razors--good-night!"
The Colonel's eyes followed her slight form a little puzzled and notentirely pleased at this easy dismissal of sentiment, when he knew whathe himself would have done if she had flown the least signal of distress.He turned to Leila. "I am very much relieved, my dear, to see that youraunt is taking my departure quietly. I was afraid of another breakdown,and I could not have stayed a day longer."
Leila who had watched this parting with some anxiety said, "I was alittle uneasy myself, but really Aunt Ann was great." She could havemade the well-loved Colonel miserable by translating for him into thetongue of man the language of the actress on the stairs. "I wonder,"she reflected, "if all men are that blind, or only the heroic orunimaginative."
* * * * *
Colonel Penhallow was detained by consultations with the Governor and byregimental work until near the close of August, when his command washurried forward to join McClellan's army. He followed it a day later. Hewrote long notes to his wife almost daily and then in September after thebattle of Antietam more freely to Leila:--
"DEAR LEILA: You will be surprised to hear from me as at Washington onthis September 19th. I overtook my command at noon, in Philadelphia,where the regiment was being well fed in the big building known as theCooper Shop. I was pleased with the look of the men, who have been longdrilled in camp. After the meal I went outside and mounted Dixy, who wasas rebellious as if he knew he was on the side to which his name didnot belong. A soldier was vainly trying to mount my mare. He lost histemper and struck her. I saw a black man interfering, and rode forwardseeing there was some trouble. By George! it was Josiah. I shook handswith him and said, 'Where did you come from? He said, 'Saw your name,sir, in the paper and just quit my work. I'm goin' along with you--I'myour servant. I've been thinkin' this long while I'd go back to Westways,but I've been doin' well here, and I just kep' a puttin' it off. I'mgoin' with you.' I said, 'All right, get on that horse.' He patted theuneasy mare and in a moment was in the saddle and I a well pleased man.Tell your aunt I am well cared for.
"We were hurried forward, and I had the pleasure of seeing my men behavewell when we stormed South Mountain--a very gallant affair. Joe Grace washurt, but not badly, and was left behind. As to the killed, none are fromWestways. At Antietam we were with the reserve, which I thought shouldhave been used and was not. It was an attack on an interior line as seemsalways to be our luck. McClellan will follow Lee, of course. My regimentis to be with the Sixth Corps, but I was ordered by the Secretary of Warto report to him in Washington. It is disgusting! But orders are orders.The Lieutenant-Colonel will have my place, and I hope to get back soon.Josiah was caught in the thick of the fight at Fox Gap. He was scared asort of green. He will get over it--I know the signs. It was purenervousness. His explanation was very perfect, 'I just laid down flatbecause I was afraid of gittin' this servant of yours killed.' We grinnedmutual approval of the excuse.
"Yours ever,
"JAMES PENHALLOW."
"P.S. You will have found this letter very unsatisfactory, but the factis that only people of ample leisure make good correspondents. But nowto sum up: Yesterday I saw Stanton, had a glimpse of Swallow, saw Mr.Lincoln, and had an adventure so out of the common that it was likeone of the stories of adventure in which Jack used to delight. Now Icannot--
should not tell it--but some day--yes. Send this P.S., bit ofgood news, on its way. Read it first."
"Well, that is exasperating? Surely men are most unsatisfactory letterwriters. No woman with an interesting subject could be so uninteresting.John is as bad or worse."
She found enclosed a postscript slip for Mr. Grace.
"DEAR SIR: That boy of yours is not badly hurt. He behaved withintelligent courage when for a moment a part of our charging linehesitated. I was proud of him; I have made him a Corporal.
"Yours truly,
"JAMES PENHALLOW."
The order to report to the former counsel of his firm, Secretary Stanton,brought an unhappy Colonel to the War Department. He sent in his card,and was asked to follow an orderly. As he was about to enter the privateoffice of the War Minister, to his amazement Swallow came out. With acurt good morning, Penhallow went by him. The great Secretary rose togreet him, saying, "You are very welcome, Penhallow--never more welcome."
"You look worn out, Stanton," said the Colonel.
"No, not yet; but, my God! Penhallow, my life is one to kill thetoughest. What with army mishaps, inefficiency, contractors backed byCongressmen--all the scum that war brings to the top. Do you know whyI sent for you?"
"No. It was an order--I ask no questions. I am at your service."
"You were disappointed, of course."
"Yes, I was."
"Well, there were two reasons. One is frankly this. Your firm has acontract for field artillery--and now you are in the service."
"I see! It is not now my firm. I gave up my partnership."
"So I saw, but who of these hungry contractors will believe that you gaveup--a fortune--to enter the army! The facts are either not well known orhave been misstated."
"Very likely. I gave up what you speak of as a fortune as you gave up agreat income at the bar, and for the same reason I withdrew all mycapital. Even the rental of my mills will go to the Sanitary Commission.I could not leave a doubt or the least cause for suspicion."
"I was sure of you, but this has been a well-nursed scandal, due to aninfluential lot of disappointed contractors who would have controlled thegiving of that contract had I not come into office. I shall kill it dead.Trust that to me."
"Thank you, Stanton, I could have stood it."
"Yes, but you do not know, my dear Penhallow, what Washington is atpresent. Well, let it go. It is now my business. Do you know this Mr.Swallow?"
"Know him? Yes--a usurious scamp of a lawyer, who to our relief has leftWestways. Do not trust him. I presume that I owe this talk about me tohim."
"Well, yes, to him and his associates."
"What does he want now?"
"What he will not get. Let him go. I said I had two reasons for orderingyou here. One I have stated. I want some one I can entirely trust, notmerely for honesty and loyalty, but also because of business competence.All manner of work for the Government is going on here and elsewhere. Iwant some one to report on it from time to time. It will keep you herethis winter. You do not like it?"
"No, but it was an order."
"Yes, I am sorry to take you for a time out of active service, buttrust me this war will last long. This winter I want you for a varietyof inspection work here or elsewhere. It will be mere business, dull,unexciting, with unending watchfulness, and advisory technical helpand advice. I want not only personal character--I can get that, butnot easily the combination of technical training and business capacity."He unrolled a bundle of papers. "There for example, Colonel, are plansfor a new form of ambulance and pontoon wagons ready for approval. Iwant a report on both." He went on to speak of the ambulances withamazing knowledge of the details of their build. Penhallow watchedthis earnest, overtasked man, and began to comprehend the vastness ofhis daily toil, the weight of his mighty load of care. As he talked,cards were brought in, messages sent or received, telegrams--the talkwas dropped--resumed--and the Colonel simply listened. At last theSecretary said, "That will do for to-day. You have room No. 27, and suchclerks and orderlies as you may need. You will find on your table thesespecifications--and more--others. And now, how is your beautiful GreyPine and its mistress and Leila? You will assure them of my undiminishedaffection. And John--where is he?"
"With General Grant, but where just now I cannot say."
As he spoke, the door opened and an officer announced--"The President."The ungainly length of Lincoln appeared. A quiet smile lingered on thelarge-featured face, with some humorous appreciation of the WarSecretary's evident annoyance at this abrupt visit. Mr. Stanton'sgreeting as he rose was as the Colonel thought coldly civil.
"My friend, Colonel Penhallow, sir."
"Glad to see you," said Lincoln, and then with a certain simplicityexplained, "You see, Colonel, sometimes I run away out of the back ofthe White House--just to get free of the guards. Don't look so bothered,Stanton. I'm too fine a failure for any one to want to kill me. Anynews?"
"None," said the secretary, as he stood not too well pleased; "ColonelPenhallow is to be in my office on inspection duty."
"Indeed! Glad to see you." The huge hand closed on Penhallow's withinnocent use of its power. "Name sounds familiar. Yes--there was a cadetof your name last year. Your son, I suppose?"
"No, my nephew--in the engineers with General Grant."
"Tell him I asked for him--handsome fellow. Anything I can do for him?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Anything I can do for you?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Don't let Stanton kill you. He ought to have a brevet, Stanton. He isthe only man in Washington don't want anything." Even the weary face ofthe Secretary smiled under his heavy beard. "Just stepped in to dividegrowls with you. Come with me, Colonel, or Stanton will have a brigade ofofficers to escort me. Wait for me at the outer door--I'll join you."
Penhallow pleased and amused, went out taking with him the sense ofpuzzle felt by so many over this unusual personage. At the main entrancethe Colonel came on Swallow.
"A word with you," he said very quietly. "You have been lying about me tothe Secretary and elsewhere. Be careful. I am sometimes short of temper.You have hurt yourself, not me, and you will get no contracts here."
"Well, we will see about that," said Swallow, and was about to say morewhen the President appeared.
"Come, Colonel," he said. Swallow fell back and Penhallow walked away asmen touched their hats. For a block or more Lincoln did not speak, andrespecting his silence the soldier was as silent. Then, with his amazingfrankness, Lincoln spoke.
"Does the Emancipation Proclamation please you?"
"As a war measure, yes."
"And not otherwise?"
"It is none of my business to criticize my Commander-in-Chief."
"Well, I won't make it an order, but I wish McClellan was of your way ofthinking." Again there was silence. Penhallow was astonished at thisoutspoken statement, being aware as few men were of the fact that theGeneral in question had been disinclined to announce the emancipationmessage to the army until he found that his corps commanders were notcordially with him in opinion.
As they stopped at the gate of the railing around the White House,Lincoln said, "When you don't want anything, come and see me--or if youdo." Then, becoming grave, he asked, "What effect will my proclamation ofemancipation have in the South? It takes effect in January, you know." Itwas like Lincoln. He asked this question of all manner of people. "I wantto know," he added, as Penhallow hesitated.
"I am not in a position, sir, to have any opinion about how the Rebelswill be affected by it."
"Oh, Confederates! Colonel--not Rebels. Calling names only hurts, anddon't ever help. Better to be amiable about labels."
"It was a slip of the tongue, Mr. President. I usually say Confederates."
"Quite right--tongue very slippery organ. Reckon my small truantholiday's over. Everybody generally is letting me know what effect thatemancipation-thunder will have." A strangely tender smile grew upon thelarge features. "You see, Colonel, you a
nd I are the only ignorant peoplein Washington. Good-bye."
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