Part 78 (1/2)
CHAPTER XXIX
THE PANIC
The morning after Betty returned to Carver Hospital from the front, a mother was pouring out her heart in a burst of patriotic joy over a wounded boy.
She thought of the lonely figure in the White House treading the wine press of a Nation's sorrow alone and asked the mother to go with her to the President, meet him and repeat what she had said. She consented at once.
For the first time Betty failed to gain admission promptly. Mr.
Stoddard, his third Secretary, was at the door.
”We must let him eat something, Miss Winter,” he whispered. ”All night the m.u.f.fled sound of his footfall came from his room. I heard it at nine, at ten, at eleven. At midnight Stanton left his door ajar and his steady tramp, tramp, tramp, came with heavier sound. The last thing I heard as I left at three was the m.u.f.fled beat upstairs. The guard told me it never stopped for a moment all night.”
Betty was surprised to see his face illumined by a cheerful smile as she entered. She gazed with awe into the deep eyes of the man whose single word could stop the war and divide the Union. She wondered if he had fought the Nation's battle alone with G.o.d through the night until his prophetic vision had seen through cloud and darkness the dawn of a new and more wonderful life.
She spoke softly:
”I've brought you a good mother who lost a son at Fredericksburg. She has a message for you.”
The tall form bent reverently and pressed her hand. A wonderful smile transfigured his rugged face as he listened:
”G.o.d help you in your trials, Mr. President, as he has helped me in mine----”
”And you lost your son at Fredericksburg?”
”Yes. It was long before I could feel reconciled. But I've been praying for you day and night since----”
”For me?”
”You must be strong and courageous, and G.o.d will bring the Nation through!”
”You say that to me, standing beside the grave of your son?”
”Yes, and beside the cot of my other boy who is here wounded from Chancellorsville. I'm proud that G.o.d gave me such sons to lay on the altar of my country. Remember, I am praying for you day and night!”
Both big hands closed over hers and he was silent a moment.
”It's all right then. I'll get new strength when I remember that such mothers are praying for me.”
He pressed Betty's hand at the door:
”Thank you, child. You bring medicine that reaches soul and body!”
The hour of despair had pa.s.sed and the President returned to his task patient, watchful, strong.
Daily the shadows deepened over the Nation's life. Blacker and denser rose the clouds. Four Northern Generals had now gone down before Lee's apparently invincible genius--McClellan, Pope, Burnside, and Hooker, and with each fall the corpses of young men were piled higher.
Again the clamor rose for the return of McClellan to command. This cry was not only heard in the crushed Army of the Potomac, it was backed by the voice of two million Democrats who had chosen the man on horseback as their leader.
It was for precisely this reason that McClellan could not be considered again for command. His party had fallen under the complete control of its Copperhead leaders who demanded the ending of the war at once and at any sacrifice of principle or of the Union.