An Original Belle

by Edward Payson Roe

  THE month of September, 1862, was a period of strong excitementand profound anxiety on both sides of the vague and shifting linewhich divided the loyal North from the misguided but courageousSouth. During the latter part of August Gen. Pope had beenoverwhelmed with disaster, and what was left of his heroic armywas driven within the fortifications erected for the defence ofWashington. Apparently the South had unbounded cause for exultation.But a few weeks before their capital had been besieged by an immensearmy, while a little to the north, upon the Rappahannock, restedanother Union army which, under a leader like Stonewall Jackson,would have been formidable enough in itself to tax Lee's skill andstrength to the utmost. Except in the immediate vicinity of thecapital and Fortress Monroe scarcely a National soldier had beenleft in Virginia. The Confederates might proudly claim that thegeneralship of Lee and the audacity of Jackson had swept the Northerninvaders from the State.

  Even more important than the prestige and glory won was the factthat the Virginian farmers were permitted to gather their cropsunmolested. The rich harvests of the Shenandoah Valley and otherregions, that had been and should have been occupied by Nationaltroops, were allowed to replenish the Confederate granaries. Therewere rejoicings and renewed confidence in Southern homes, and smilesof triumph on the faces of sympathizers abroad and throughout theNorth.

  But the astute leaders of the Rebellion were well aware that theend had not yet come, and that, unless some bold, paralyzing blowwas struck, the struggle was but fairly begun. In response to therequest for more men new armies were springing up at the North. Thecontinent shook under the tread of hosts mustering with the sternpurpose that the old flag should cover every inch of the heritageleft by our fathers.

  Therefore, Lee was not permitted to remain on the defensive a moment,but was ordered to cross the Potomac in the rear of Washington,threatening that city and Baltimore. It was supposed that the adventof a Southern army into Maryland would create such an enthusiasticuprising that thinned ranks would be recruited, and the Statebrought into close relation with the Confederate Government. Theseexpectations were not realized. The majority sympathized withBarbara Frietchie,

  "Bravest of all in Frederick town,"

  rather than with their self-styled deliverers; and Lee lost moreby desertion from his own ranks than he gained in volunteers. Inthis same town of Frederick, by strange carelessness on the partof the rebels, was left an order which revealed to McClellan Lee'splans and the positions which his divided army were to occupy duringthe next few days. Rarely has history recorded such opportunitiesas were thus accidentally given to the Union commander.

  The ensuing events proved that McClellan's great need was not thereinforcements for which he so constantly clamored, but decisionand energy of character. Had he possessed these qualities he couldhave won for himself, from the fortuitous order which fell into hishands, a wreath of unfading laurel, and perhaps have saved almostcountless lives of his fellow-countrymen. As it was, if he hadonly advanced his army a little faster, the twelve thousand Unionsoldiers, surrendered by the incompetent and pusillanimous Gen.Miles, would have been saved from the horrors of captivity andsecured as a valuable reinforcement. To the very last, fortuneappeared bent on giving him opportunity. The partial success wonon the 17th of September, at the battle of Antietam, might easilyhave been made a glorious victory if McClellan had had the vigorto put in enough troops, especially including Burnside's corps,earlier in the day. Again, on the morning of the 18th, he had onlyto take the initiative, as did Grant after the first day's fightingat Shiloh, and Lee could scarcely have crossed the Potomac with acorporal's guard. But, as usual, he hesitated, and the enemy thatrobbed him of one of the highest places in history was not theConfederate general or his army, but a personal trait,--indecision.In the dawn of the 19th he sent out his cavalry to reconnoitre, andlearned that his antagonist was safe in Virginia. Fortune, weariedat last, finally turned her back upon her favorite. The desperateand bloody battle resulted in little else than the ebb of thetide of war southward. Northern people, it is true, breathed morefreely. Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington were safe for thepresent, but this seemed a meagre reward for millions of treasureand tens of thousands of lives, especially when the capture of Richmondand the end of the Rebellion had been so confidently promised.

  If every village and hamlet in the land was profoundly stirred bythese events, it can well be understood that the commercial centreof New York throbbed like an irritated nerve under the telegraphwires concentring there from the scenes of action. Every possibleinterest, every variety of feeling, was touched in its vast andheterogeneous population, and the social atmosphere was electricalwith excitement.

  From her very constitution, now that she had begun to comprehendthe nature of the times, Marian Vosburgh could not breathe this airin tranquillity. She was, by birthright, a spirited, warm-heartedgirl, possessing all a woman's disposition towards partisanship.Everything during the past few months had tended to awaken a deepinterest in the struggle, and passing events intensified it. Notonly in the daily press did she eagerly follow the campaign, butfrom her father she learned much that was unknown to the generalpublic. To a girl of mind the great drama in itself could not failto become absorbing, but when it is remembered that those who hadthe strongest hold upon her heart were imperilled actors in thetragedy, the feeling with which she watched the shifting scenesmay in some degree be appreciated. She often saw her father's browclouded with deep anxiety, and dreaded that each new day mightbring orders which would again take him into danger.

  While the letters of her loyal friend, Lane, veiled all that washard and repulsive in his service, she knew that the days of drilland equipment would soon be over, and that the new regiment mustparticipate in the dangers of active duty. This was equally true ofStrahan and Blauvelt. She laughed heartily over their illustratedjournal, which, in the main, gave the comic side of their life. Butshe never laid it aside without a sigh, for she read much betweenthe lines, and knew that the hour of battle was rapidly approaching.Thus far they had been within the fortifications at Washington,for the authorities had learned the folly of sending undisciplinedrecruits to the front.

  At last, when the beautiful month of October was ended, and Lee'sshattered army was rested and reorganized, McClellan once morecrossed the Potomac. Among the reinforcements sent to him were theregiments of which Lane and Strahan were members. The letters ofher friends proved that they welcomed the change and with all theardor of brave, loyal men looked forward to meeting the enemy. Inheart and thought she went with them, but a sense of their dangerfell, like a shadow, across her spirit. She appeared years olderthan the thoughtless girl for whom passing pleasure and excitementhad been the chief motives of life; but in the strengthening linesof her face a womanly beauty was developing which caused evenstrangers to turn and glance after her.

  If Merwyn still retained some hold upon her thoughts and curiosity,so much could scarcely be said of her sympathy. He had disappearedfrom the moment when she had harshly dismissed him, and she wasbeginning to feel that she had been none too severe, and to believethat his final words had been spoken merely from impulse. If hewere amusing himself abroad, Marian, in her intense loyalty, woulddespise him; if he were permitting himself to be identified withhis mother's circle of Southern sympathizers, the young girl'scontempt would be tinged with detestation. He had approached hertoo nearly, and humiliated her too deeply, to be readily forgottenor forgiven. His passionate outbreak at last had been so intenseas to awaken strong echoes in her woman's soul. If return to acommonplace fashionable life was to be the only result of the past,she would scarcely ever think of him without an angry sparkle inher eyes.

  After she had learned that her friends were in the field andtherefore exposed to the dangers of battle at any time, she hadsoliloquized, bitterly: "He promised to 'measure everything by thebreadth of my woman's soul.' What does he know about a true woman'ssoul? He has undoubtedly found his selfish nature and his pursemore convenient gauges of the wo
rld. Well, he knows of one girlwho cannot be bought."

  Her unfavorable impression was confirmed one cold November morning.Passing down Madison Avenue, her casual attention was attracted bythe opening of a door on the opposite side of the street. She onlypermitted her swift glance to take in the fact that it was Merwynwho descended the steps and entered an elegant coupe driven bya man in a plain livery. After the vehicle had been whirled away,curiosity prompted her to retrace her steps that she might lookmore closely at the residence of the man who had asked her to behis wife. It was evidently one of the finest and most substantialhouses on the avenue.

  A frown contracted the young girl's brow as she muttered: "Heaspired to my hand,--he, who fares sumptuously in that brown-stonepalace while such men as Mr. Lane are fortunate to have a canvasroof over their heads. He had the narrowness of mind to half-despiseArthur Strahan, who left equal luxury to face every danger andhardship. Thank Heaven I planted some memories in his snobbishsoul!"

  Thereafter she avoided that locality.

  In the evening, with words scarcely less bitter, she mentioned toher father the fact that she had seen Merwyn and his home.

  Mr. Vosburgh smiled and said, "You have evidently lost all compunctionsin regard to your treatment of the young fellow."

  "I have, indeed. The battle of Antietam alone would place a RedSea between me and any young American who can now live a life ofselfish luxury. Think how thousands of our brave men will sleepthis stormy night on the cold, rain-soaked ground, and then thinkof his cold-blooded indifference to it all!"

  "Why think of him at all, Marian?" her father asked, with a quizzicalsmile.

  The color deepened slightly in her face as she replied: "Whyshouldn't I think of him to some extent? He has crossed my path inno ordinary way. His attentions at first were humiliating, and heawakened an antipathy such as I never felt towards any one before.He tried to belittle you, my friends, and the cause to which youare devoted. Then, when I told him the truth about himself, heappeared to have manhood enough to comprehend it. His words made methink of a man desperately wounded, and my sympathies were touched,and I felt that I had been unduly severe and all that. In fact, Iwas overwrought, ill, morbid, conscience-stricken as I rememberedmy own past life, and he appeared to feel what I said so awfullythat I couldn't forget it. I had silly dreams and hopes that hewould assert his manhood and take a loyal part in the struggle.But what has been his course? So far as I can judge, it has beenin keeping with his past. Settling down to a life of ease andmoney-making here would be little better, in my estimation, thanamusing himself abroad. It would be simply another phase of followinghis own mood and inclinations; and I shall look upon his outburstand appeal as hysterical rather than passionate and sincere."

  Mr. Vosburgh listened, with a half-amused expression, to his daughter'sindignant and impetuous words, but only remarked, quietly, "Supposeyou find that you have judged Mr. Merwyn unjustly?"

  "I don't think I have done so. At any rate, one can only judge fromwhat one knows."

  "Stick to that. Your present impressions and feelings do you credit,and I am glad that your friends' loyal devotion counts for morein your esteem than Merwyn's wealth. Still, in view of your schemeof life to make the most and best of men of brains and force, I donot think you have given the young nabob time and opportunity toreveal himself fully. He may have recently returned from England,and, since his mother was determined to reside abroad, it was hisduty to establish her well before returning. You evidently havenot dismissed him from your thoughts. Since that is true, do notcondemn him utterly until you see what he does. What if he againseeks your society?"

  "Well, I don't know, papa. As I feel to-night I never wish to seehim again."

  "I'm not sure of that, little girl. You are angry and vindictive.If he were a nonentity you would be indifferent."

  "Astute papa! That very fact perplexes me. But haven't I explainedwhy I cannot help thinking of him to some extent?"

  "No, not even to yourself."

  Marian bit her lip with something like vexation, then said,reproachfully, "Papa, you can't think that I care for him?"

  "Oh, no,--not in the sense indicated by your tone. But your sillydreams and hopes, as you characterize them, have taken a strongerhold upon you than you realize. You are disappointed as well asangry. You have entertained the thought that he might do something,or become more in harmony with the last words he spoke to you."

  "Well, he hasn't."

  "You have not yet given him sufficient time, perhaps. I shall notseek to influence you in the matter, but the question still presentsitself: What if he again seeks your society and shows a dispositionto make good his words?"

  "I shall not show him," replied Marian, proudly, "greater favorthan such friends as Mr. Lane and Mr. Strahan required. Withoutbeing influenced by me, they decided to take part in the war. Afterthey had taken the step which did so much credit to their manlycourage and loyalty, they came and told me of it. If Mr. Merwynshould show equal spirit and patriotism and be very humble in viewof the past, I should, of course, feel differently towards him. Ifhe don't--" and the girl shook her head ominously.

  Her father laughed heartily. "Why!" he exclaimed; "I doubt whetherin all the sunny South there is such a little fire-eater as we havehere."

  "No, papa, no," cried Marian, with suddenly moistening eyes. "Iregret the war beyond all power of expression. I could not ask,much less urge, any one to go, and my heart trembles and shrinkswhen I think of danger threatening those I love. But I honor--Ialmost worship--courage, loyalty, patriotism. Do you think I canever love any one as I do you? Yet I believe you would go to Richmondto-morrow if you were so ordered. I ask nothing of this Merwyn, orof any one; but he who asks my friendship must at least be braveand loyal enough to go where my father would lead. Even if I loved aman, even if I were married, I would rather that the one _I_ loveddid all a man's duty, though my heart was broken and my life blightedin consequence, than to have him seeking safety and comfort in someeminently prudent, temporizing course."

  Mr. Vosburgh put his arm around his daughter, as he looked, for amoment, into her tear-dimmed eyes, then kissed her good-night, andsaid, quietly, "I understand you, Marian."

  "But, papa!" she exclaimed, in sudden remorsefulness, "you won'ttake any risks that you can honorably escape?"

  "I promise you I won't go out to-night in search of the nearestrecruiting sergeant," replied her father, with a reassuring laugh.

  CHAPTER XIX.

  PROBATION PROMISED.