Part 47 (1/2)
THE next day Marian received a note from Strahan saying that some bad symptoms had developed in connection with his wound, but that his physician had a.s.sured him that if he would keep absolutely quiet in body and mind for a week or two they would pa.s.s away, concluding with the words: ”I have promised mother to obey orders, and she has said that she would write you from time to time about me. I do not think I shall be very ill.”
”O dear!” exclaimed Marian to her father at dinner, ”what times these are! You barely escape one cause of deep anxiety before there is another. Now what is troubling you, that your brow also is clouded?”
”Is it not enough that your troubles trouble me?”
”There's something else, papa.”
”Well, nothing definite. The draft, you know, begins on Sat.u.r.day of this week. I shall not have any rest of mind till this ordeal is over. Outwardly all is comparatively quiet. So is a powder magazine till a spark ignites it. This unpopular measure of the draft is to be enforced while all our militia regiments are away. I know enough about what is said and thought by thousands to fear the consequences.
I wish you would spend a couple of weeks with your mother in that quiet New-England village.”
”No, papa, not till you tell me that all danger is past. How much I should have missed during the past few days if I had been away!
But for my feeling that my first duty is to you, I should have entreated for your permission to become a hospital nurse. Papa, women should make sacrifices and take risks in these times as well as men.”
”Well, a few more days will tell the story. If the draft pa.s.ses off quietly and our regiments return, I shall breathe freely once more.”
A letter was brought in, and she exclaimed, ”Captain Lane's handwriting!” She tore open the envelope and learned little more at that time than that he had escaped, reached our lines, and gone to Was.h.i.+ngton, where he was under the care of a skilful surgeon.
”In escaping, my wound broke out again, but I shall soon be able to travel, and therefore to see you.”
In order to account for Lane's absence and silence we must take up the thread of his story where Zeb had dropped it. The cavalry force of which Captain Lane formed a part retired, taking with it the prisoners and such of the wounded as could bear transportation; also the captured thief. Lane was prevented by his wound from carrying out his threat, which his position as chief officer of an independent command would have ent.i.tled him to do. The tides of war swept away to the north, and he was left with the more seriously wounded of both parties in charge of the a.s.sistant surgeon of his regiment. As the shades of evening fell, the place that had resounded with war's loud alarms, and had been the scene of so much bustle and confusion, resumed much of its old aspect of quiet and seclusion. The marks of conflict, the evidence of changes, and the new conditions under which the family would be obliged to live, were only too apparent. The gra.s.s on the lawn was trampled down, and there were new-made graves in the edge of the grove. Fences were prostrate, and partly burned. Horses and live stock had disappeared. The negro quarters were nearly empty, the majority of the slaves having followed the Union column. Confederate officers, who were welcome, honored guests but a few hours before, were on their way to Was.h.i.+ngton as prisoners. Desperately wounded and dying men were in the out-buildings, and a Union officer, the one who had led the attacking party and precipitated these events, had begun his long fight for life in the mansion itself,--a strange and unexpected guest.
Mrs. Barkdale, the mistress of the house, could scarcely rally from her nervous shock or maintain her courage, in view of the havoc made by the iron heel of war. Miss Roberta's heart was full of bitterness and impotent revolt. She had the courage and spirit of her race, but she could not endure defeat, and she chafed in seclusion and anger while her mother moaned and wept. Miss Suwanee now became the leading spirit.
”We can't help what's happened, and I don't propose to sit down and wring my hands or pace my room in useless anger. We were all for war, and now we know what war means. If I were a man I'd fight; being only a woman, I shall do what I can to retrieve our losses and make the most of what's left. After all, we have not suffered half so much as hundreds of other families. General Lee will soon give the Northerners some of their own medicine, and before the summer is over will conquer a peace, and then we shall be proud of our share in the sacrifices which so many of our people have made.”
”I wouldn't mind any sacrifice,--no, not of our home itself,--if we had won the victory,” Roberta replied. ”But to have been made the instrument of our friends' defeat! It's too cruel. And then to think that the man who wrought all this destruction, loss, and disgrace is under this very roof, and must stay for weeks, perhaps!”
”Roberta, you are unjust,” cried Suwanee. ”Captain Lane proved himself to be a gallant, considerate enemy, and you know it. What would you have him do? Play into our hands and compa.s.s his own defeat? He only did what our officers would have done. The fact that a Northern officer could be so brave and considerate was a revelation to me. We and all our property were in his power, and his course was full of courtesy toward all except the armed foes who were seeking to destroy him. The moment that even these became unarmed prisoners he treated them with great leniency. Because we had agreed to regard Northerners as cowards and boors evidently doesn't make them so.”
”You seem wonderfully taken with this Captain Lane.”
”No,” cried the girl, with one of her irresistible laughs; ”but our officer friends would have been taken with him if he had not been wounded. I'm a genuine Southern girl, so much so that I appreciate a brave foe and true gentleman. He protected us and our home as far as he could, and he shall have the best hospitality which this home can now afford. Am I not right, mamma?”
”Yes, my dear, even our self-respect would not permit us to adopt any other course.”
”You will feel as I do, Roberta, after your natural grief and anger pa.s.s;” and she left the room to see that their wounded guest had as good a supper as she could produce from diminished resources.
The surgeon, whom she met in the hall, told her that his patient was feverish and a ”little flighty” at times, but that he had expected this, adding: ”The comfort of his room and good food will bring him around in time. He will owe his life chiefly to your hospitality, Miss Barkdale, for a little thing would have turned the scale against him. Chicken broth is all that I wish him to have to-night, thanks.”
And so the process of care and nursing began. The Union colonel had left a good supply of coffee, sugar, and coa.r.s.e rations for the wounded men, and Suwanee did her best to supplement these, accomplis.h.i.+ng even more by her kindness, cheerfulness, and winsome ways than by any other means. She became, in many respects, a hospital nurse, and visited the wounded men, carrying delicacies to all alike. She wrote letters for the Confederates and read the Bible to those willing to listen. Soon all were willing, and blessed her sweet, sunny face. The wounds of some were incurable, and, although her lovely face grew pale indeed in the presence of death, she soothed their last moments with the gentlest ministrations.
There was not a man of the survivors, Union or rebel, but would have shed his last drop of blood for her. Roberta shared in these tasks, but it was not in her nature to be so impartial. Even among her own people she was less popular. Among the soldiers, on both sides, who did the actual fighting, there was not half the bitterness that existed generally among non-combatants and those Southern men who never met the enemy in fair battle; and now there was a good-natured truce between the brave Confederates and those who had perhaps wounded them, while all fought a battle with the common foe,--death. Therefore the haggard faces of all lighted up with unfeigned pleasure when ”Missy S'wanee,” as they had learned from the negroes to call her, appeared among them.
But few slaves were left on the place, and these were old and feeble ones who had not ventured upon the unknown waters of freedom. The old cook remained at her post, and an old man and woman divided their time between the house and the garden, Suwanee's light feet and quick hands relieving them of the easier labors of the mansion.
Surgeon McAllister was loud in his praises of her general goodness and her courtesy at the table, to which he was admitted; and Lane, already predisposed toward a favorable opinion, entertained for her the deepest respect and grat.i.tude, inspired more by her kindness to his men than by favors to himself. Yet these were not few, for she often prepared delicacies with her own hands and brought them to his door, while nearly every morning she arranged flowers and sent them to his table.
Thus a week pa.s.sed away. The little gathering of prostrate men, left in war's trail, was apparently forgotten except as people from the surrounding region came to gratify their curiosity.