CHAPTER XXXV.
CAPTAIN COLBURNE AS MR. COLBURNE.
During three months Colburne rested from marches, battles, fatigues,emotions. He was temporarily so worn out in body and mind that he couldnot even rally vigor enough to take an interest in any but the greatestof the majestic passing events. It is to be considered that he had beencase-hardened by war to all ordinary agitations; that exposure to cannonand musketry had so calloused him as that he could read newspapers withtranquillity. Accordingly he troubled himself very little about theworld; and it got along at an amazing rate without his assistance. Therewere no more Marengos in the Shenandoah Valley, but there was a Waterloonear Petersburg, and an Ulm near Raleigh, and an assassination of agreater than William of Orange at Washington, and over all a grand,re-united, triumphant republic.
As to the battles Colburne only read the editorial summaries andofficial reports, and did not seem to care much for "our owncorrespondent's" picturesque particulars. Give him the positions, thedispositions, the leaders, the general results, and he knew how to inferthe minutiae. To some of his civilian friends, the brother abolitionistsof former days, this calmness seemed like indifference to the victoriesof his country; and such was the eagerness and hotness of the times thatsome of them charged him with want of patriotism, sympathy with therebels, copperheadism, etc. One day he came into the Ravenel parlor witha smile on his face, but betraying in his manner something of theirritability of weakness and latent fever.
"I have heard a most astonishing thing," he said. "I have been called aCopperhead. I who fought three years, marched the skin off my feet,have been wounded, starved, broken down in field service, am aCopperhead. The man who inferred it ought to know; he has lived amongCopperheads for the last three years. He has never been in thearmy--never smelled a pinch of rebel powder. There were no Copperheadsat the front; they were all here, at the rear, where he was. He ought toknow them, and he says that I am one of them. Isn't it amazing!"
"How did he discover it?" asked the Doctor.
"We were talking about the war. This man--who has never heard a bulletwhistle, please remember--asserted that the rebel soldiers were cowards,and asked my opinion. I demurred. He insisted and grew warm. 'But,' saidI, 'don't you see that you spoil my glory? Here I have been in the fieldthree years, finding these rebels a very even match in fighting. If theyare cowards, I am a poltroon. The inference hurts me, and therefore Ideny the premise.' I think that my argument aggravated him. He repeatedpositively that the rebels were cowards, and that whoever asserted thecontrary was a southern sympathiser. 'But,' said I, 'the rebel armiesdiffer from ours chiefly in being more purely American. Is it thegreater proportion of native blood which causes the cowardice?'Thereupon I had the Copperhead brand put upon my forehead, and wasexcommunicated from the paradise of loyalty. I consider it ratherstunning. I was the only practical abolitionist in the company--the onlyman who had freed a negro, or caused the death of a slaveholder. Doctor,you too must be a Copperhead. You have suffered a good deal for thecause of freedom and country; but I don't believe that you consider therebel armies packs of cowards."
The Doctor noted the excitement of his young friend, and observed tohimself, "Remittent malarious fever."
"I get along very easily with these earnest people," he added aloud."They say more than they strictly believe, because their feelings arestronger than can be spoken. They are pretty tart; but they are merebuttermilk or lemonade compared with the nitric acid which I used tofind in Louisiana; they speak hard things, but they don't stick youunder the fifth rib with a bowie-knife. Thanks to my social training inthe South, I am able to say to a man who abuses me for my opinions,'Sir, I am profoundly grateful to you for not cutting my throat from earto ear. I shall never forget your politeness.'"
The nervous fretfulness apparent in Colburne's manner on this occasionpassed away as health and strength returned. Another phenomenon of hisrecovered vigor was that he began to show a stronger passion for thesociety of Mrs. Carter than he had exhibited when he first returned fromthe wars. On his well days he made a span with young Whitewood at thebaby wagon; only it was observable that, after a few trials, they cameto a tacit understanding to take turns in this duty; so that when onewas there, the other kept away, in a magnanimous, man fashion. Colburnefound Mrs. Carter, in the main, a much more serious person in temperthan when he bade her good-bye in Thibodeaux. The interest which thisshadow of sadness gave her in his eyes, or, perhaps I should say, theinterest with which she invested the subject of sadness in his mind, maybe inferred from the somewhat wordy fervor of the following passage,which he penned about this time in his common-place book.
"_The Dignity of Sorrow._ Grand is the heart which is ennobled, notcrushed, by sorrow; by mighty sorrows worn, not as manacles, but as acrown. Try to conceive the dignity of a soul which has suffered deeplyand borne its sufferings well, as compared with another soul which hasnot suffered at all. Remember how we respect a veteran battle-ship--amere dead mass of timber, ropes, and iron--the Hartford--after her deckshave run with blood, and been torn by shot. No spectacle of new frigatesjust from the stocks, moulded in the latest perfected form, can stir oursouls with sympathy like the sight of the battered hulk. Truly there issomething of divinity in the man of sorrows, acquainted with grief, evenwhen his body is but human, provided always that his soul has grownpurer by its trials."
At one time Colburne was somewhat anxious about Mrs. Carter lest hercharacter should become permanently sombre in consequence of lonelybrooding over her troubles. He remembered with pleasure her formergirlish gayety, and wished that it might be again her prevailingexpression.
"Do you think you see people enough?" he asked her. "I mean, asufficient variety of people. Monotony of intellectual diet is as badfor the spirit as monotony of physical nourishment for the body."
"I am sure that papa and Mr. Whitewood constitute a variety," sheanswered.
Colburne was not badly pleased with this speech, inasmuch as it seemedto convey a slight slur upon Mr. Whitewood. He was so gratified, infact, that he lost sight of the subject of the conversation until sherecalled him to it.
"Do you think I am getting musty?" she inquired.
"Of course not. But there is danger in a long-continued uniformity ofspiritual surroundings: danger of running into a habit of reverie,brooding, melancholy: danger of growing spiritually old."
"I know it. But what can a woman do? It is one of the inconveniences ofwomanhood that we can't change our surroundings--not even our hoops--atour own pleasure. We can't run out into the world and say, Amuse us."
"There are two worlds for the two sexes. A man's consists of all themillions of earth and of future time--unless he becomes a captain in theTenth Barataria--then he stays where he began. A woman's consists of thepeople whom she meets daily. But she can enlarge it; she can make itcomprehend more than papa and Mr. Whitewood."
"But not more than Ravvie," said Lillie.
As Colburne listened to this declaration he felt something likejealousy of the baby, and something like indignation at Mrs. Carter.What business had she to let herself be circumscribed by the limits ofsuch a diminutive creature? This was not the only time that Lillie shotthis single arrow in her quiver at Mr. Colburne. She talked a great dealto him about Ravvie, believing all the while that she kept a strict reinupon her maternal vanity, and did not mention the boy half as often asshe would have been justified in doing by his obesity and otherremarkable characteristics. I do not mean to intimate that the subjectabsolutely and acrimoniously annoyed our hero. On the whole her maternalfondness was a pleasant spectacle to him, especially when he drew theinference that so good a mother would be sure to make an admirable wife.Moreover his passion for pets easily flowed into an affection for thisinfant, and the child increased the feeling by his grateful response tothe young bachelor's attentions. Mrs. Carter blushed more than once tosee her baby quit her and toddle across the room and greet Colburne'sentrance.
"Ravvie, come here," she would say.
"You trouble people."
"No, no," protested Colburne, picking up the little man and setting himon his shoulder. "I like to be troubled by people who love me."
Then after a slight pause, he added audaciously, "I never have been muchtroubled in that way."
Mrs. Carter's blush deepened a shade or two at this observation. It wasone of those occasions on which a woman always says something asmal-apropos as possible; and in accordance with this instinct of hersex, she spoke of the Russian Plague, which was then a subject of gossipin the papers.
"I am so afraid Ravvie will take it," she said. "I have heard that thereis a case next door, and I am really tempted to run away with him for aweek or two."
"I wouldn't," replied Colburne. "You might run into it somewhere else.One case is not alarming. If I had forty children to be responsible for,I wouldn't break up for a single case."
"If you had forty you mightn't be so frightened as if you had only one,"remarked Mrs. Carter, seriously.
Then the Doctor came in, to declare in his cheerful way that there wasno Russian Plague in the city, and that, even if there were, it was nogreat affair of a disease among a well-fed and cleanly population.
"We are more in danger of breaking out with national vanity," said he."They are singing anthems, choruses, paeans of praise to us across thewater. All the nations of Europe are welcoming our triumph, as thedaughters of Judea went out with cymbals and harps to greet the giantkilling David. Just listen to this."
Here he unfolded the Evening Post of the day, took off his eye-glasses,put on his spectacles, and read extracts from European editorialswritten on the occasion of the fall of Richmond and surrender of Lee.
"They are more flattering than Fourth of July orations," said Colburne."I feel as though I ought to go straight down to the sea-shore and makea bow across the Atlantic. It is enough to make a spread peacock-tailsprout upon every loyal American. I am not sure but that the nextgeneration will be furnished with the article, as being absolutelynecessary to express our consciousness of admiration. On the Darwiniantheory, you know; circumstances breed species."
"The Europeans seem to have more enthusiastic views of us than we do ofourselves," observed Lillie. "I never thought of our being such a grandnation as Monsieur Laboulaye paints us. You never did, papa."
"I never had occasion to till now," said the Doctor. "As long as we werebedraggled in slavery there was not much room for honest, intelligentpride of country. It is different now. These Europeans judge us aright;we have done a stupendous thing. They are outside of the struggle, andcan survey its proportions with the eyes with which our descendants willsee it. I think I can discover a little of its grandeur. It is the fifthact in the grand drama of human liberty. First, the Christianrevelation. Second, the Protestant reformation. Third, the war ofAmerican Independence. Fourth, the French revolution. Fifth, thestruggle for the freedom of all men, without distinction of race andcolor; this Democratic struggle which confirms the masses in an equalitywith the few. We have taught a greater lesson than all of us think orunderstand. Once again we have reminded the world of Democracy, thefutility of oligarchies, the outlawry of Caesarism."
"In the long run the right conquers," moralized Colburne.
"Yes, as that pure and wise martyr to the cause of freedom, PresidentLincoln, said four years ago, right makes might. A just system of laborhas produced power, and an unjust system has produced weakness. TheNorth, living by free industry, has twenty millions of people, andwealth inexhaustible. The South, living by slavery, has twelve millions,one half of whom are paupers and secret enemies. The right alwaysconquers because it always becomes the strongest. In that sense 'thehand of God' is identical with 'the heaviest battalions.' Another thingwhich strikes me is the intensity of character which our people havedeveloped. We are no longer a mere collection of thirty millions ofbores, as Carlyle called us. There never was greater vigor or range.Look at Booth, the new Judas Iscariot. Look at Blackburn, who packed upyellow fever rags with the hope of poisoning a continent. What a sweep,what a gamut, from these satanic wretches to Abraham Lincoln! a purer,wiser and greater than Socrates, whom he reminds one of by his plainsense and homely humor. In these days--the days of Lincoln, Grant andSherman--faith in the imagination--faith in the supernatural origin ofhumanity--becomes possible. We see men who are demoniacal and men whoare divine. I can now go back to my childhood, and read Plutarch as Ithen read him, believing that wondrous men have lived because I see thatthey do live. I can now understand the Paradise Lost, for I have beheldHeaven fighting with Hell."
"The national debt will be awful," observes Lillie, after the briefpause which naturally follows the Doctor's Cynicism. "Three thousandmillions! What will my share be?"
"We will pay it off," says the Doctor, "in a series of operaticentertainments, at a hundred thousand dollars the dress seats--backseats fifty thousand."
"The southern character will be improved by the struggle," observedColburne, after another silence. "They will be sweetened by adversity,as their persimmons are by frost. Besides, it is such a calming thing tohave one's fight out! It draws off the bad blood. But what are we to doabout punishing the masses? I go for punishing only the leaders."
"Yes," coincided the Doctor. "They are the responsible criminals. It isastonishing how imperiously strong characters govern weak ones. You willoften meet with a man who absolutely enters into and possesses othermen, making them talk, act and feel as if they were himself. He putsthem on and wears them, as a soldier crab puts on and wears an emptyshell. For instance, you hear a man talking treason; you look at him andsay, 'It is that poor fool, Cracker.' But all the while it is Planter,who, being stronger minded than Cracker, dwells in him and blasphemesout of his windows. Planter is the living crab, and Cracker is the deadshell. The question comes up, 'Which shall we hang, and which shall wepardon?' I say, hang Planter, and tell Cracker to get to work. Plantergone, some better man will occupy Cracker and make him speak and livevirtuously."
But strange as it may seem, unpatriotic as it may seem, there was asubject which interested Colburne more than these great matters. It wasa woman, a widow, a mother, who, as he supposed, still mourned her deadhusband, and only loved among the living her father and her child. Howimperiously, for wise ends, we are governed by the passion of sex forsex, in spite of the superficial pleas of selfish reason and interest!What other quality, physical or moral, have we that could take the placeof this beneficently despotic instinct? Do you believe that conscience,sense of duty, philanthropy, would induce men and women to bear witheach other--to bring children into the world--to save the race fromextinction? Strike out the affection of sex for sex, and earth would be,first a hell, then a desert. God is not very far from every one of us.The nation was not more certainly guided by the hand of Providence inoverthrowing slavery, than was this man in loving this woman. I do notsuspect that any one of these reflections entered the mind of Colburne,although he was intellectually quite capable of such a small amount ofphilosophy. We never, or hardly ever think of applying generalprinciples to our own cases; and he believed, as a matter of course,that he liked Mrs. Carter simply because she was individually loveable.On other subjects he could think and talk with perfect rationality; hecould even discourse transcendentally to her concerning her own hearthistory. For instance, one day when she was sadder than usual, nervous,irritable, and in imperious need of a sympathising confidant, shealluded shyly to her sorrows, and, finding him willing to listen, addedfrankly, "Oh, I have been so unhappy!"
It is rather strange that he did not seize the opportunity and say, "Letme be your consoler." But he too was in a temporarily morbid state, hismind unpractical with fever and weakness, wandering helplessly aroundthe ideas of trouble and consolation like a moth around thebewilderment of a candle, and not able to perceive that the greatcomforter of life is action, labor, duty.
"So have multitudes," he answered. "There is some comfort in that."
"How _can_ you say so?" she asked, turning upon him in
astonishment.
"Look here," he answered. "There are ten thousand blossoms on an appletree, but not five hundred of them mature into fruit. So it is with ushuman beings: a few succeed, the rest are failures. It is a part of themethod of God. He creates many, in order that some may be sure to reachhis proposed end. He abounds in means; he has more material than heneeds; he minds nothing but his results. You and I, even if we areblighted blooms, must be content with knowing that his purposes arecertain to be fulfilled. If we fail, others will succeed, and in thatfact we can rejoice, forgetting ourselves."
"Oh! but that is very hard," said Lillie.
"Yes; it is. But what right have we to demand that we shall be happy?That is a condition that we have no right and no power to make with theCreator of the Universe. Our desire should be that we might be enabledto make others happy. I wonder that this should seem hard doctrine toyou. Women, if I understand them, are full of self-abnegation, and livethrough multitudes of self-sacrifices."
"And still it sounds hard," persisted Lillie. "I could not bear anothersacrifice."
She closed her eyes under an impulse of spiritual agony, as the thoughtoccurred to her that she might yet be called on to give up her child.
"I am sorry you have been unhappy," he said, much moved by theexpression of her face at this moment. "I have sympathised with you, oh,so much! without ever saying a word before."
She did not stop him from taking her hand, and for a few moments did notwithdraw it from his grasp. Far deeper than the philosophy, which shecould understand but not feel, these simple and common-place words, justsuch as any child might utter, stole into her heart, conveying a tearfulsense of comfort and eliciting a throb of gratitude.
But their conversation was not often of so melancholy and sentimental anature. She had more gay hours with this old friend during a few weeksthan she had had during six months previous to his arrival. She oftenlaughed when the tears were ready to start; but gradually the spirit oflaughter was expelling the spirit of tears. She was hardly sensible, Isuspect, how thoroughly he was winding himself into all her emotions,her bygone griefs, her present consolations, her pitying remembrance ofher husband, her love for her father and child, her recollections of thelast four years, so full for her of life and feeling. His presencerecalled by turns all of these things, sweeping gently, like a handtimid because of affection, over every chord of her heart. Man has greatpower over a woman when he is so gifted or so circumstanced that he cantouch that strongest part of her nature, her sentiments.
However, it must not be supposed that Mr. Colburne was at this timeplaying a very audible tune on Mrs. Carter's heart-strings, or that heeven distinctly intended to touch that delicate instrument. He was quiteaware that he must better his pecuniary condition before he couldhonorably meddle in such lofty music.
"I must go to work," he said, after he had been at home nearly threemonths. "I shall get so decayed with laziness that I sha'n't be able topick myself up. I shall cease to be respectable if I lounge any longerthan is absolutely necessary to restore my health."
"Yes, work is best," answered the Doctor. "It is our earthly glory andblessing. It is a great comfort to think that the evil spirit of no-workis pretty much exorcised from our nation. The victory of the North is atbottom the triumph of laboring men living by their own industry, overnon-laboring men who wanted to live by the industry of others. Europesees this even more plainly than we do. All over that continent theindustrious classes hail the triumph of the North as their own victory.Slavery meant in reality to create an idle nobility. Liberty hasestablished an industrious democracy. In working for our own living weare obeying the teachings of this war, the triumphant spirit of ourcountry and age. The young man who is idle now belongs to bygone andsemi-barbarous centuries; he is more of an old fogy than the narrowestminded farm-laborer or ditch-digging emigrant. What a prosperous hivethis will be now that it contains no class of drones! There was no hopeof good from slavery. It was like that side of the moon which never seesthe bright face of the Earth and whose night is always darkness, nomatter how the heavens revolve. Yes, we must all go to work. That is, wemust be useful and respectable. I am very glad for your sake that youhave studied a profession. A young man brought up in literary andscientific circles is subject to the temptation of concluding that itwill be a fine thing to have no calling but letters. He is apt to thinkthat he will make his living by his pen. Now that is all wrong; it iswrong because the pen is an uncertain means of existence; for no manshould voluntarily place himself in the condition of living from hand tomouth. Every university man, as well as every other man, should learn aprofession, or a business, or a trade. Then, when he has something solidto fall back upon, he may if he chooses try what he can do as a scholaror author."
"I shall re-open my law office," said Colburne.
"I wonder if it would be unhandsome or unfair," queried the Doctor, "ifI too should open an office and take such patients as might offer."
"I don't see it. I don't see it at all," responded Colburne.
"Nor do I, either--considering my necessities," said Ravenel, meanwhilecalculating internally how much longer his small cash capital would lastat the present rate of decrease.
Within a week after this conversation two offices were opened, and theprofessional ranks of New Boston were reinforced by one doctor and onelawyer.
"Papa, now that you have set up a sign," said Lillie, "I will trust youentirely with Ravvie."
"Yes, women always ask after a sign," observed Ravenel. "It isastonishing how much the sex believes in pretense and show. If I shouldadvertise myself--no matter how ignorant I might be--as a specialist infemale maladies, I could have all the lady invalids in New Boston forpatients. Positively I sometimes get out of patience with the sex forits streaks of silliness. I am occasionally tempted to believe that thegreatest difficulty which man has overcome in climbing the heights ofcivilization is the fact that he has had to tote women on hisshoulders."
"I thought you never used negro phrases, papa."
"I pass that one. Tote has a monosyllabic vigor about it which pleadsfor it."
"You know Mrs. Poyser says that women are fools because they were madeto match the men."
"Mrs. Poyser was a very intelligent woman--well worthy of her son, Ike,"returned the Doctor, who knew next to nothing of novels.
"Now go to your office," said Lillie, "and if Mrs. Poyser calls on you,don't give her the pills meant for Mrs. Partington. They are differentladies."
Colburne did not regret that he had been a soldier; he would not havemissed the battle of Cedar Creek alone for a thousand dollars; but hesometimes reflected that if he had remained at home during the lastthree years, he might now be in a lucrative practice. From his salary ascaptain he had been able to lay up next to nothing. Nominally it wasfifteen hundred and sixty dollars; but the income tax took out thirtydollars, and he had forfeited the monthly ten dollars allowed forresponsibility of arms, etc., during the time he was on staff duty; inaddition to which gold had been up to 290, diminishing the cash value ofhis actual pay to less than five hundred dollars. Furthermore he hadlent largely to brother officers, and in consequence of the death of theborrowers on heroic fields, had not always been repaid. Van Zandt owedhim two hundred dollars, and Carter had fallen before he could returnhim a similar sum. Nevertheless, thanks to the industry and economy of afather long since buried, the young man had a sufficient income tosupport him while he could plant the slowly growing trees of businessand profit. He could live; but could he marry? Gold was falling, and sowere prices; but even before the war one thousand dollars a year wouldnot support two; and now it certainly would be insufficient for three.He considered this question a great deal more than was necessary for aman who meant to be a bachelor; and occasionally a recollection ofWhitewood's eighty thousand gave him a pang of envy, or jealousy, orboth together.
The lucre which he so earnestly desired, not for its own stupid sake,but for the gratification of a secretly nursed purpose, began t
o flow inupon him in small but constant driblets. Some enthusiastic people gavehim their small jobs in the way of conveyancing, etc., because he hadfought three years for his country; and at least, somewhat to his alarm,a considerable case was thrust upon him, with a retaining fee which heimmediately banked as being too large for his pocket. Conscious that hislegal erudition was not great, he went to a former fellow student whoduring the past four year had burrowed himself into a good practice, andproposed that they should take the case in partnership.
"You shall be counsellor," said he, "and I will be advocate. You shallfurnish the law skeleton of the plea, and I will clothe it with appealsto the gentlemen of the jury. I used to be famous for spouting, youknow; and I think I could ask a few questions."
"I will do it for a third," said the other, who was not himself apleader.
"Good!"
It was done and the case was gained. The pecuniary profits were divided,but Colburne carried away all the popular fame, for he had spouted insuch a manner as quite to dissolve the gentlemen of the jury. The twoyoung men went into partnership on the basis afforded by their firsttransaction, and were soon in possession of a promising if not anopulent business. It began to seem possible that, at a not very distantday, Colburne might mean something if he should say, "I endow thee withmy worldly goods."
Miss Ravenel's conversion from secession to loyalty Page 38
