The Broken Sword; Or, A Pictorial Page in Reconstruction

by D. Worthington

  CHAPTER IX.

  THE BROKEN CRUSE.

  The lights were burning with a soft glow one night in the mansion whenthe announcement was made by Clarissa that a gentleman stood without,desiring an audience with the old master. The gentleman introducedhimself as Mr. Summers (half apologetically), a reconstructed rebel.There was a moment's pause in which, by the shimmer of the lightedlamps, Colonel Seymour saw that the visitor was quite an elderly man,without beard and with soft white hair. His address was easy andinsinuating. He was neatly clad in black cloth, and impressed ColonelSeymour as being a man of affairs. Together they entered the library,the Colonel observing that he conducted all business transactions inthat particular room just now. Considering the unusual hour at which thevisitor had arrived, in connection with the unpleasant incidents of aquite eventful day, there was nothing reassuring in the visit: the timeswere critical, to say the least, and his own situation so entirelydefenceless, that he felt as if "vigilance was truly the price ofliberty." So he addressed the stranger in a manner quite emphatic--

  "May I enquire, sir, to what circumstance I am indebted for the honor ofthis visit?"

  "Why, certainly, sir," replied the bland stranger. "But will you permitme first to ask after your health and that of your family? How are you,sir?"

  "My family--that is my wife--is quite unwell, sir. She has been aninvalid for many weeks, and I fear there is no possible hope of herrecovery," said the Colonel.

  "Ah, that distresses me greatly; perhaps her condition is not so bad asyou fear. May I ask after your health, sir?"

  The Colonel hesitated for a moment, and then observed, deliberately,"Physically, I am quite well, sir."

  "Did I not see you, sir, when we were re-crossing the Potomac on our madflight from Gettysburg at the lower ford?" enquired the stranger.

  "Mad flight!" echoed the veteran with ill-concealed wrath. "Have yousuch a conception of the orderly retreat of our great army without theloss of a gun and without the capture of a man, as to characterize it asa mad flight? Were you a Confederate soldier, sir, and do you insult myintelligence, my loyalty, yea, my bravery, sir, by this challengedinquiry?"

  "My dear sir, if the statement pains you I will recall it instantly.Pray excuse me. I was Major of the 7th Virginia Cavalry, and as the armyhalted at the ford I saw an officer, a Colonel, who was badly woundedand who with great difficulty sat his horse on that occasion. I now seethat the officer whom I then saw is the gentleman I now address, and Iheartily crave your pardon for the rash expression."

  "Very well, then," replied the Colonel. "We are Confederate soldiersagain, and will make our future assaults upon the enemy, if you please,and not upon Lee's army, that whipped the enemy at Gettysburg; yes, sir,whipped them and fell back, sir, because our base of supplies wasmenaced by the flooding of the Potomac, sir," fairly hissed the old manin great excitement.

  "My dear sir, why this excessive warmth?" cried the stranger; "I am surewe understand each other; but, my dear sir, the war is over--why makeimaginary assaults upon an imaginary enemy? We are entirely in accord.We entered the army because we then believed we were right, and--"

  "Knew it, sir, knew it, and know it now, sir, know it now, sir,"fiercely interrupted the Colonel.

  "Will you allow me to ask, my dear sir, do you recall those events withany degree of pleasure?" asked the stranger.

  "Yes, and no. When I realize that then and now, the enemy with unboundedresources was eternally casting into the vat of pernicious fermentationevery act, thought and suggestion that was doubtful in interpretation,and brewing a concoction as nauseous as the black vomit of the redharlot herself, and eructating it upon us--the recollection is painful;but when I remember that every sword thrust into their vitals was theact of a patriot, I delight to recall events that crowned the old Southwith undying glory."

  "Allow me one other observation, if you please," asked the stranger in atentative way. "Admittedly the South was right, but, my dear sir, do youthink it possible that men like yourself who gallantly fought for acause they sincerely believed to be just may not impress theirindividuality upon an era that promises so much for the betterment ofour condition as a people?"

  "Barely possible, I imagine," replied the Colonel.

  "Are you inclined to favor a proposition that has in contemplation theelection of negroes to office."

  "No sir; such a proposition, in my opinion, would be so abhorrent to ourideals of sovereignty that I should consider myself a traitor to theSouth and her people. Should I endorse such a proposition, it would bean act of self degradation."

  "But, my dear sir," argued the stranger, "you will pardon me if I shouldsay that every man must look out for his own safety. Patriotism to agreat extent, is a matter of sentiment, and a great man once said 'It isthe last refuge of a scoundrel.' You of course will not yield to such aninterpretation, nor would I ask you to do so, but, sir, we must let thedead past bury its dead. We must live in the present, and we must asskilled architects build for future generations a superstructure thatshall challenge the admiration of men yet unborn."

  "That is to say, if I understand you," interrupted the Colonel, "youpropose to inoculate the South with the poison of your infamousreconstruction policy, to engraft upon our institutions a new anddangerous character, and besides other atrocious enormities to establishthe spoils principle--its temptation to licentiousness--the watchword toanimate your corrupt followers to a savage and unscrupulous warfare,sparing neither sex nor age, practicing every species of fraud andhypocrisy, confounding right and wrong, and robbing the innocent andvirtuous of their only treasure, their manhood and womanhood. What isyour proposition, sir," he exclaimed vehemently, "but a proclamation tothe venal and depraved to rally to the standard of a chief, who, likethe leader of an army of bandits, points to our God-forsaken country,and says to your plunderers, 'This shall be the reward of victory.' Thisis no exageration, sir; disguise it as you may, your proposition leadsto brigandage and ruin."

  "But, my dear sir," replied the stranger, "you have so disarmed me byyour arguments that I fear my mission to you will be without avail--willyou allow me to proceed, sir? We deplore the fact, sir, that our mostvirtuous men are still braving the dangers they might, with a littlecircumspection avoid; still plunging headlong, as it were into greatheated furnaces whose doors are open to receive them."

  "How would you advise, sir, that we can protect ourselves, so we willnot be utterly consumed, but only roasted here and there" asked theColonel epigrammatically.

  "Ah, you trifle with serious matters" replied the white haired stranger."There is one way, sir, and one way only--adopt this, sir, and thecountry will honor you with its blandishments. Take the tide at itsflood, and co-operate patriotically with those who are enforcing manhoodsuffrage without respect to educational or property qualifications, andthe suffrages of the adult freemen, white and black, will be cast foryou for congress."

  "Ah, a tempting bait," exclaimed the Colonel, "but it has a rancidnegroish scent, and the hook is too sharp--too sharp sir. Do you intendto do this thing?" continued the Colonel interrogatively.

  "Assuredly, sir," the stranger replied, with might and main.

  "Then sir," shouted the indignant man, "this interview ends now."

  "One more word," pleaded the stranger, "and I have done--please bearwith me a moment. The Central Executive Committee, of which I am amember, feeling their great need of your invaluable services havecommissioned me to make known to you their earnest desire, that you willaccept a nomination, from the party, for Congress upon the reformplatform."

  "You mean your ultra radical platform," suggested the Colonel.

  "No, not exactly that," replied the stranger, "they desire further, ifhowever you will not accept, that you will submit your views upon theperplexing subject of negro or manhood suffrage."

  "And you are sure your committee will act upon suggestions from me?" heasked.

  "I am quite sure they will," answered Mr. Summers.

  "Then, s
ir, please ask your committee, as a special request from John W.Seymour, to put the negroes to work upon the farms; and thecarpet-baggers out of the state, and hang the scalawags by the neckuntil they are dead, dead, dead, sir."

  "Tut, tut, tut," exclaimed the old man excitedly, "you are besideyourself. Remember, my dear sir, that you are sowing the wind, and byand by strangers will reap the whirlwind. Good night, Colonel Seymour,I hope you will think better of the matter.

  As the white haired stranger passed out of the door, Clarissa, who wasclosing it after him, enquired of her old master, "Mars Jon, what nicefarderly ole man was dat ole gemmen? he peared lak he wus mitysorrowful. Iseed him put his handkercher to his face lak he mout beweepin; what did yer say to him, ole marser, dat upsot him so bad?"

  "Without deigning a reply Col. Seymour enquired of Clarissa what theshouting and halloing at her house last night meant?"

  "Did yer heer dat racket Mars Jon? I spected yer wus asleep. Twantnuffin epceps Ned und Joshaway er cuttin up der shines. Dem niggers beento town und cum bak drunk as horgs in de mash tub und sed how dat deyhad jined de milintery cumpny, und was agwine to clur up de po whitetrash in de kentry, fo und aft; when yer hurd dem dey wus er hollern toEllik how dat de boss sed dat dey mout go to de town und draw de lanund de mule und de penshun, dat dey wus agwine to git dern nex Saddy.Lans sake, ole Marser, I specks we's agwine to have orful times in diskentry--de niggers turned loose lak blaten sheepses er shullikin und apilfern erbout ebery which a way. Ole fokses used to say dat when de tipeend ob de moon wus rite red lak, dat yer mout look out fur wars undyurthshaks too, und I seed dat ur site las nite 'twixt midnite und dayund it fotched what de ole fokses sed rite back to my member'nce. I'dhate powerful to see any udder bellion in dis lan, dat I would. Not efday is ergwine to shoot steerkyarts und wheel-barrers clean froo ourfederick sojers, lak dey dun de last time. Grate king, Mars Jon, whatsorter ammynishun did dem dare yankeys shoot outen dare kannons ennyhow?Frum de way our po sojers wuz tore to pieces, dey put me in membrunce ofambylances, und powerful big wuns at dat; Grate king! I natally heersdare po flesh er sizzing dis minnit. Is you sho ole marser dat de goodLord is ergwine to fetch all dem arms und legs und heds togedder, eendfur eend at de resurreckshun, so our sojers is ergwine to know pineplank which is dere'n, und dey drifted disserway und datterway in decornfields of Manassy und Chuckkermorger und de Bulls Run? Grate king!"

  Contemporaneously with the coming of the troubles that were well nighoverwhelming the old veteran and his beautiful daughter, the death ofthe wife and mother came as it were the knell of doom--the giving awayof the last arch in the compact fabric of human life, the snapping ofthe last filament in the web of destiny--the leaking of the last drop ofoil from the broken cruse. With her, the heart could be nerved toextraordinary endeavor; with her, ever so many bright colors could bepainted upon the angry horizon; with her, the sunset heavens woulddiffuse a glamour, all radiant and glorious, as if the angels werekissing its banners into crimson and with deft fingers were garnishingthe leaky clouds with prismatic hues; with her, the little birds uponsportive pinions would syllable their songs into the dialect of love.But she was passing away--passing away like the shadowy vapor thatclings for a moment to the mountain's crest, like the resplendent starthat shimmers more beautifully as it is dipping its disc below thewestern verge, and bids us good night--like the breath of the crushedflower that exhales its aroma for a moment, and is gone. Passing awayfrom a home that is darkened by shadows, passing away from the heartsthat are consumed into dead white ashes.

  What black stygian waters were rushing vehemently against the frettedcasements of these poor souls. Ties that are sundering here are bindinginto a glorious sheaf loves and affections up yonder, as imperishable asGod's great throne. Passing away from the frigid griefs that are soon toenviron old Ingleside, when the blood in its channels is to pause in itscirculation, when a negro, vile and savage lacerates the dear, dear faceof her beautiful daughter, and her precious blood follows the thorns.Passing away before the proud head of her noble husband is bowed inignominy, when the shackles of a felon encircle arms--enslave hands thatnever struck a blow, except for his bleeding country. Passing away toplead in her own glorified person to a merciful Father to speedily unitethe three in the realm of joy, where there are no shadows and no griefs.

  Poor Alice knew as by revelation that the lifeless form before which shewas kneeling and weeping was not her mother. Oh, what a royal welcome,what a banqueting upon love there will be by and by, when the terrorsof the horrid reconstruction shall so chill her young blood that it willcease to flow, by and by, beyond the sighing and the weeping.

  Tenderly, yea reverently, the body was placed into the casket andremoved to the parlor, just under the portrait of her dear soldier boywho went to heaven from the gory field of Manassas. Friends had gatheredinto the room and the man of God read from the blessed Book, "I am theresurrection and the life." The solemn discourse was almost concludedwhen ruffianly booted feet were heard in the verandah, and a loud knockwas heard at the door. Armed, uniformed negroes had come--come like anArctic gale, chilling and freezing heart and soul--with a mandate tosnatch the living from the dead.

  Laflin himself would not have pursued the poor wretch within the barredprecincts of the sepulchre. The infidel powers of the East would havepaused when they saw this "truce of God." But there was no order ofadjournment in the message which they brought. "Forthwith" was theunequivocal command and "forthwith" was now. They had come to take thebroken-hearted man, though he clung to the casket; come to prod him withbayonets if the rigid limbs did not respond quickly to the command,"Quick time--March!"

  Once or twice, through sheer faint, the poor old man fell out of lineand against a black guard who violently pushed him into line with theimprecation--

  "D--n yu, git back inter yer place, er I'll stick my bagonet clar frooyer."

  He was arraigned before three white men and four negroes, and in thepresence of whom stood the white-haired stranger, Mr. Summers.

  The Colonel did not clearly comprehend the character of the accusationagainst him. He had been informed by no one except in a general way.Perhaps he would learn as he followed Mr. Summers in his address to thistribunal.

  "Gentlemen," said Mr. Summers, continuing his speech, "whilst it was myplain duty to report upon the case of Colonel Seymour, I do so with thehope that he may be given a day to answer; indeed, gentlemen, I praythat you may not deal harshly with this old man, who is now in the sereand yellow leaf. You say that you will require him to turn his back uponthe traditions of the past--upon the ancient landmarks; that he shallfraternize with our party, in fact become one of us, or his conditionshall be made intolerable and his life burdensome. Spare the rod,gentlemen, for his sake and for the sake of his only child."

  "What have you to say for yourself, sir," asked the chairman frigidly,addressing himself to Colonel Seymour.

  "Sir, I am an old man. One more turn of your wheel--the tightening ofthe cord ever so slight--and a life worthless and burdensome will dropat your feet. The standard of truth, virtue and patriotism has bowed itsonce lofty crest, and is now prostrate in the dust. All that wasbeautiful and lovely in this land of our fathers is sinking, rotting,dying beneath the blight and mildew of your accursed lust of power. Whyshould I survive? My life, sir, is behind me. You ask me to be yourslave. Sir, your bondage is inexorable--it is the life of an outlaw, atraitor, a felon. You ask me to be your friend, and I should consortwith thieves; I should crucify every principle of a man. You ask me tobe your candidate--my consent would be an act of stultification. Sir,against your savage principles I swear an eternal hatred and wage aninterminable war."

  The feeble old man sank back exhausted into his seat.

  "We intend," exclaimed the chairman with great deliberation, "to scarifythe old wounds of the rebels until they bleed afresh. Sixty days, sir,within which to prove your loyalty. You can retire sir."

  Thus ran the order, marked with three blood-red stars. * * *

>   "Kase de high shurruff he dun und seed what wuz ergwineter cum arter de bellion fell, und he flopped ober ter depublikins"----"Ole Mars Jon haint ergwine ter flop nowheys," repliedClarissa.]