An Original Belle

by Edward Payson Roe

  In June, especially during the latter part of the month, Strahanand Blauvelt's letters to Marian had been brief and infrequent. Theduties of the young officers were heavy, and their fatigues great.They could give her little information forecasting the future.Indeed, General Hooker himself could not have done this, for allwas in uncertainty. Lee must be found and fought, and all that anyone knew was that the two great armies would eventually meet inthe decisive battle of the war.

  The patient, heroic army of the Potomac, often defeated, but neverconquered, was between two dangers that can be scarcely overestimated,the vast, confident hosts of Lee in Pennsylvania, and Halleck inWashington. General Hooker was hampered, interfered with, deprivedof reinforcements that were kept in idleness elsewhere, and atlast relieved of command on the eve of battle, because he askedthat 11,000 men, useless at Harper's Ferry, might be placed underhis orders. That this was a mere pretext for his removal, and anexpression of Halleck's ill-will, is proved by the fact that GeneralMeade, his successor, immediately ordered the evacuation of Harper'sFerry and was unrestrained and unrebuked. Meade, however, did notunite these 11,000 men to his army, where they might have addedmaterially to his success, but left them far in his rear, a useless,half-way measure possibly adopted to avoid displeasing Halleck.

  It would seem that Providence itself assumed the guidance of thislongsuffering Union army, that had been so often led by incompetencein the field and paralyzed by interference at Washington. Even thephilosophical historian, the Comte de Paris, admits this truth inremarkable language.

  Neither Lee nor Meade knew where they should meet, and had underconsideration various plans of action, but, writes the Frenchhistorian, "The fortune of war cut short all these discussions bybringing the two combatants into a field which neither had chosen."Again, after describing the region of Gettysburg, he concludes:"Such is the ground upon which unforeseen circumstances were aboutto bring the two armies in hostile contact. Neither Meade nor Leehad any personal knowledge of it."

  Once more, after a vivid description of the first day's battle, inwhich Buford with his cavalry division, Doubleday with the FirstCorps, and Howard with the Eleventh, checked the rebel advance, butat last, after heroic fighting, were overwhelmed and driven backin a disorder which in some brigades resembled a rout, the Comtede Paris recognizes, in the choice of position on which the Uniontroops were rallied, something beyond the will and wisdom of man.

  "A resistless impulse seems to spur it (the rebel army) on to battle.It believes itself invincible. There is scorn of its adversary;nearly all the Confederate generals have undergone the contagion.Lee himself, the grave, impassive man, will some day acknowledge thathe has allowed himself to be influenced by these common illusions.It seems that the God of Armies had designated for the Confederatesthe lists where the supreme conflict must take place: they cheerfullyaccept the alternative, without seeking for any other."

  All the world knows now that the position in the "lists" thus"designated" to the Union army was almost an equivalent for thethousands of men kept idle and useless elsewhere. To a certainextent the conditions of Fredericksburg are reversed, and theConfederates, in turn, must storm lofty ridges lined with artillery.

  Of those days of awful suspense, the 3d, 4th, and 5th of July, theFrench historian gives but a faint idea in the following words: "Inthe mean while, the North was anxiously awaiting for the resultsof the great conflict. Uneasiness and excitement were perceptibleeverywhere; terror prevailed in all those places believed to bewithin reach of the invaders. Rumors and fear exaggerated theirnumber, and the remembrance of their success caused them to bedeemed invincible."

  When, therefore, the tidings came, "The rebel army totally defeated,"with other statements of the victory too highly colored, a burdenwas lifted from loyal hearts which the young of this generationcannot gauge; but with the abounding joy and gratitude there werealso, in the breasts of hundreds of thousands, sickening fear andsuspense which must remain until the fate of loved ones was known.

  In too vivid fancy, wives and mothers saw a bloody field strewn withstill forms, and each one asked herself, "Could I go among these,might I not recognize HIS features?"

  But sorrow and fear shrink from public observation, while joy andexultation seek open expression. Before the true magnitude of thevictory at Gettysburg could be realized, came the knowledge thatthe nation's greatest soldier, General Grant, had taken Vicksburgand opened the Mississippi.

  Marian saw the deep gladness in her father's eyes and heard it inhis tones, and, while she shared in his gratitude and relief, herheart was oppressed with solicitude for her friends. To her, whohad no near kindred in the war, these young men had become almostas dear as brothers. She was conscious of their deep affection,and she felt that there could be no rejoicing for her until she wasassured of their safety. All spoke of the battle of Gettysburg asone of the most terrific combats of the world. Two of her friendsmust have been in the thick of it. She read the blood-stainedaccounts with paling cheeks, and at last saw the words, "CaptainBlauvelt, wounded; Major Strahan, wounded and missing."

  This was all. There was room for hope; there was much cause tofear the worst. From Lane there were no tidings whatever. She wasoppressed with the feeling that perhaps the frank, true eyes ofthese loyal friends might never again look into her own. With achill of unspeakable dread she asked herself what her life wouldbe without these friends. Who could ever take their place or fillthe silence made by their hushed voices?

  Since reading the details of the recent battle her irritation againstMerwyn had passed away, and she now felt for him only pity. Herown brave spirit had been awed and overwhelmed by the accounts ofthe terrific cannonade and the murderous hand-to-hand struggles.At night she would start up from vivid dreams wherein she saw thefield with thousands of ghastly faces turned towards the whitemoonlight. In her belief Merwyn was incapable of looking uponsuch scenes. Therefore why should she think of him with scorn andbitterness? She herself had never before realized how terriblethey were. Now that the dread emergency, with its imperative demandfor manhood and action, had passed, her heart became softenedand chastened with thoughts of death. She was enabled to form akinder judgment, and to believe it very possible that Merwyn, inthe consciousness of his weakness, was suffering more than many awounded man of sterner mettle.

  On the evening of the day whereon she had read the ominous wordsin regard to her friends, Merwyn's card was handed to her, and,although surprised, she went down to meet him without hesitation.His motives for this call need brief explanation.

  For a time he had given way to the deepest dejection in regard tohis own prospects. There seemed nothing for him to do but wait forthe arrival of his mother, whom he could not welcome. He still hada lingering hope that when she came and found her ambitious dreamsof Southern victory dissipated, she might be induced to give himback his freedom, and on this hope he lived. But, in the main, hewas like one stunned and paralyzed by a blow, and for a time hecould not rally. He had been almost sleepless for days from intenseexcitement and expectation, and the reaction was proportionatelygreat. At last he thought of Strahan, and telegraphed to Mrs.Strahan, at her country place, asking if she had heard from her son.Soon, after receiving a negative answer, he saw, in the long listsof casualties, the brief, vague statement that Marian had found.The thought then occurred to him that he might go to Gettysburgand search for Strahan. Anything would be better than inaction.He believed that he would have time to go and return before hismother's arrival, and, if he did not, he would leave directionsfor her reception. The prospect of doing something dispelled hisapathy, and the hope of being of service to his friend had decidedattractions, for he had now become sincerely attached to Strahan.He therefore rapidly made his preparations to depart that verynight, but decided first to see Marian, thinking it possible thatshe might have received some later intelligence. Therefore, althoughvery doubtful of his reception, he had ventured to call, hopingthat Marian's interest in her friend might secure for him a slig
htsemblance of welcome. He was relieved when she greeted him gravely,quietly, but not coldly.

  He at once stated his purpose, and asked if she had any informationthat would guide him in his search. Although she shook her headand told him that she knew nothing beyond what she had seen in thepaper, he saw with much satisfaction that her face lighted up withhope and eagerness, and that she approved of his effort. Whileexplaining his intentions he had not sat down, but now she cordiallyasked him to be seated and to give his plans more in detail.

  "I fear you will find fearful confusion and difficulty in reachingthe field," she said.

  "I have no fears," he replied. "I shall go by rail as far as possible,then hire or purchase a horse. The first list of casualties isalways made up hastily, and I have strong hopes of finding Strahanin one of the many extemporized hospitals, or, at least, of gettingsome tidings of him."

  "One thing is certain," she added, kindly,--"you have proved thatif you do find him, he will have a devoted nurse."

  "I shall do my best for him," he replied, quietly. "If he has beentaken from the field and I can learn his whereabouts, I shall followhim."

  The color caused by his first slight embarrassment had faded away,and Marian exclaimed, "Mr. Merwyn, you are either ill or have beenill."

  "Oh, no," he said, carelessly; "I have only shared in the generalexcitement and anxiety. I am satisfied that we have but barelyescaped a serious outbreak in this city."

  "I think you are right," she answered, gravely, and her thought was:"He is indeed to be pitied if a few weeks of fearful expectation havemade him so pale and haggard. It has probably cost him a tremendouseffort to remain in the city where he has so much at stake."

  After a moment's silence Merwyn resumed: "I shall soon take mytrain. Would you not like to write a few lines to Strahan? As Itold you, in effect, once before, they may prove the best possibletonic in case I find him."

  Marian, eager to comply with the suggestion, excused herself. In herabsence her father entered. He also greeted the young man kindly,and, learning of his project, volunteered some useful instructions,adding, "I can give you a few lines that may be of service."

  At last Merwyn was about to depart, and Marian, for the first time,gave him her hand and wished him "God-speed." He flushed deeply,and there was a flash of pleasure in his dark eyes as he said, ina low tone, that he would try to deserve her kindness.

  At this moment there was a ring at the door, and a card was broughtin. Marian could scarcely believe her eyes, for on it was written,"Henry Blauvelt."

  She rushed to the door and welcomed the young officer with exclamationsof delight, and then added, eagerly, "Where is Mr. Strahan?"

  "I am sorry indeed to tell you that I do not know," Blauveltreplied, sadly. Then he hastily added: "But I am sure he was notkilled, for I have searched every part of the field where he couldpossibly have fallen. I have visited the hospitals, and have spentdays and nights in inquiries. My belief now is that he was takenprisoner."

  "Then there is still hope!" exclaimed the young girl, with tearsin her eyes. "You surely believe there is still hope?"

  "I certainly believe there is much reason for hope. The rebelsleft their own seriously wounded men on the field, and took awayas prisoners only such of our men as were able to march. It is trueI saw Strahan fall just as we were driven back; but I am sure thathe was neither killed nor seriously wounded, for I went to the spotas soon as possible afterwards and he was not there, nor have Ibeen able, since, to find him or obtain tidings of him. He may havebeen knocked down by a piece of shell or a spent ball. A moment ortwo later the enemy charged over the spot where he fell, and whatwas left of our regiment was driven back some distance. From thatmoment I lost all trace of him. I believe that he has only beencaptured with many other prisoners, and that he will be exchangedin a few weeks."

  "Heaven grant that it may be so!" she breathed, fervently. "But,Mr. Blauvelt, YOU are wounded. Do not think us indifferent becausewe have asked so eagerly after Major Strahan, for you are herealive and apparently as undaunted as ever."

  "Oh, my wounds are slight. Carrying my arm in a sling gives tooserious an impression. I merely had one of the fingers of my lefthand shot away, and a scratch on my shoulder."

  "But have these wounds been dressed lately?" Mr. Vosburgh asked,gravely.

  "And have you had your rations this evening?" Marian added, withthe glimmer of a smile.

  "Thanks, yes to both questions. I arrived this afternoon, and atonce saw a good surgeon. I have not taken time to obtain a bettercostume than this old uniform, which has seen hard service."

  "Like the wearer," said Marian. "I should have been sorry indeedif you had changed it."

  "Well, I knew that you would be anxious to have even a negativeassurance of Strahan's safety."

  "And equally so to be positively assured of your own."

  "I hoped that that would be true to some extent. My dear old mother,in New Hampshire, to whom I have telegraphed, is eager to see me,and so I shall go on in the morning."

  "You must be our guest, then, to-night," said Mr. Vosburgh,decisively. "We will take no refusal, and I shall send at once tothe hotel for your luggage."

  "It is small indeed," laughed Blauvelt, flushing with pleasure,"for I came away in very light marching order."

  Marian then explained that Merwyn, who, after a brief, politegreeting from Blauvelt, had been almost forgotten, was about tostart in search of Strahan.

  "I would not lay a straw in his way, and possibly he may obtainsome clue that escaped me," said the young officer.

  "Perhaps, if you feel strong enough to tell us something of thatpart of the battle in which you were engaged, and of your search,Mr. Merwyn may receive hints which will be of service to him," Mr.Vosburgh suggested.

  "I shall be very glad to do so, and feel entirely equal to theeffort. Indeed, I have been resting and sleeping in the cars nearlyall day, and am so much better that I scarcely feel it right to beabsent from the regiment."

  They at once repaired to the library, Marian leaving word withMammy Borden that they were engaged, should there be other callers.

  CHAPTER XXXIII.

  A GLIMPSE OF WAR.