CHAPTER IX.
RALLYING ROUND THE FLAG.
There came a gloomy day to the people of New Hope,--that gloomiest ofthe year, of all the years,--that on which they received the astoundingintelligence that Fort Sumter had been attacked by the people of SouthCarolina, and that Major Anderson commanding it, with his littlecompany, had been compelled to surrender. News so startling brought allthe people into the streets. They assembled around the telegraph office,where Mr. Magnet read the despatch; how the attack had been made atdaybreak on Friday, the 12th of April, all the batteries which GeneralBeauregard had erected opening fire upon the half-starved garrison; howshot and shell were rained upon the fort, from Moultrie, from the gunson Morris Island, and from the floating battery which the Rebels hadbuilt; how Major Anderson coolly ate his breakfast; how CaptainDoubleday fired the first gun in reply; how the cannonade went on allday, the great guns roaring and jumping; how the fight commenced againnext morning; how the barracks were set on fire by the shells from theRebel guns; how manfully the garrison fought against the flames, rollingkegs of powder into the sea to prevent their exploding; how the soldierswere scorched by the heat and almost suffocated by the smoke; how theflag-staff was shot away; how the flag was nailed to the broken mast;how the brave little band held out till their powder was almostexhausted, and till there was nothing to eat but raw salt pork; how atlast, after thirty-six hours' fighting, Major Anderson surrendered thefort, saluting his flag as he hauled it down, carrying it away with him,being permitted to sail with his company to New York; and how thePresident had called for seventy-five thousand men to suppress therebellion. The people held their breath while Mr. Magnet was reading,and when he had finished looked at one another in mournful silence. Theflag of their country was trailed in the dust, and dishonored in thesight of the nations. They could not have felt worse if they had lost adear friend by death.
"The country is gone, gone, gone," said Judge Adams, wiping the tearsfrom his eyes.
"I reckon not, Judge," said Colonel Dare, "the people will havesomething to say about this insult to the flag. They will wipe out thedisgrace by sweeping those scoundrels into the sea." The Colonel usuallylooked on the bright side of things. He recalled the trainings of otherdays, when his regiment paraded on the green and had a sham-fight. Hewished that he were once more in command; he would march to Charleston,burn the city, and sow it with salt.
"The question is, whether a sovereign State has not a right to secede ifshe chooses," said Mr. Funk,--for he and Philip were the only persons inNew Hope who were not sorrowful over the intelligence. Mr. Funk was anative of Virginia, and had much to say about the superiority ofSouthern gentlemen over all other men,--how noble and chivalric theywere.
"I am glad that the President has called for seventy-five thousand mento crush the vipers," said the Colonel.
"He can't do it. It won't be constitutional. You can't coerce asovereign State," said Mr. Funk.
"We will do it. Let me tell you, Mr. Funk, that this is a government ofthe people,--the whole people,--and that the old flag which has beenstricken from the walls of Sumter shall go up there, if it takes amillion of men to put it there!"
"You can't do it. One Southerner can whip five Yankees any day," saidPhilip.
Colonel Dare took no notice of what Philip said. And he was too muchdepressed by the news to enter into an argument with Mr. Funk upon theright of a State to secede from the Union.
One by one the people went to their homes, meditating upon what they hadheard, and wondering what next would happen. They could not work; theycould only think of the terrible event.
What a gloomy day it was to Paul Parker! He went home, sat down beforethe fire, and looked into the glowing coals. The gun which hisgrandfather carried at Bunker Hill, and which in his hands had broughtdown many a squirrel from the highest trees, was hanging in its usualplace. He felt like shouldering it and marching for Charleston. Herecalled the stories which his grandfather had told him there upon thehearth, of Bunker Hill and Saratoga. Many times he had wished that hehad lived in those glorious days, to be a patriot, and assist insecuring the independence of America. But now the work which hisgrandfather and the Revolutionary sires had accomplished seemed to beall lost. It made him sick at heart to think of it. Would the peopleresent the insult which South Carolina had given to the flag? What wouldthe President do? What if he did nothing? What would become of thecountry? What would become of liberty, justice, truth, and right? O, howhard it was to see them all stricken down,--to think that the world wasturning backward! He looked into the coals till he could see greatarmies meeting in battle,--houses in flames, and the country drenched inblood. He sat motionless, forgetful of everything but the terribleintelligence and the gloomy future. What part should he take in thecontest? What could he do? The President had called for men to helpraise the flag once more upon the walls of Sumter; could he leave hishome, his mother, his friends? These were trying questions; but he feltthat he could go wherever duty called him.
Colonel Dare, as he reflected upon what had happened, saw that thepeople needed stirring up to sustain the President; that the Rebellionmust be put down, or there would be an end of all government. Heresolved to get up a public meeting. "We will have it this evening, andyou must be chairman," he said to Judge Adams.
He called upon Rev. Mr. Surplice. "I want you to open the meeting byprayer," he said, "for these are sober days. We need God's help. If weask Him, He will help us. And you must make a speech. Come down on theRebels," he added, with sudden indignation; "curse them, as David cursedthe enemies of God. You, who are watchman on the walls of Zion, mustlead off, and the people will follow. Their hearts are burning withinthem; the kindlings are laid; strike the match now, and there will besuch a flame of patriotism as the world never saw."
"We shall want singing," he said to Paul. "You must get that up."
He engaged Mr. Tooter to be there with his fife, and Mr. Noggin with hisdrum. These two were old companions on training days. They had drankmany glasses of cider together, and had played "Yankee Doodle," and "TheCampbells are coming," and "Saint Patrick's Day in the Morning," onmany occasions.
"We shall expect some resolutions and a speech from you," he said toSquire Capias.
Thus he laid out the work, and entered upon it with so much zeal, thatall hands caught the spirit of his enthusiasm. Judge Adams, who had beenvery much depressed, became more cheerful, and thought over what heshould say upon the occasion. Rev. Mr. Surplice looked through thePsalms and Isaiah and the New Testament to find the Scripture mostappropriate to read. Squire Capias sat down by his round table in hisdingy office, ran his fingers through his long black hair, and thoughtover his speech. Paul and Azalia, with Hans, went to Colonel Dare's,and, with Daphne, rehearsed the "Star-Spangled Banner," and "America,"while Mr. Noggin put a new cord into his drum, which had been lying formonths in his garret, and was covered with dust.
Evening came. The sexton rang the bell of the church,--not soberly andsteadily, but he tugged with all his might at the rope, throwing thebell over and over,--ringing as if the whole town was in a blaze. Thefarmers out on the hills heard it, and came driving furiously into thevillage to see what was the matter.
Mr. Tooter and Mr. Noggin, with Mr. Chrome, who had a new flag, walkedout upon the parade-ground. The musicians struck up Yankee-Doodle. Howit stirred the hearts of everybody,--the sharp, shrill notes of thefife,--the roll, the rattle, and the rat-a-tat-tat of the drum, and theclanging of the bell, and the sight of that flag, its crimson folds andfadeless stars waving in the evening breeze! Never had it looked sobeautiful. The little boys swung their caps and cheered, the women wavedtheir handkerchiefs, and the men hurrahed in an outburst of wildenthusiasm. Then they formed in procession with Colonel Dare formarshal,--the music and the flag in advance, Rev. Mr. Surplice, JudgeAdams, and Squire Capias next, and then all the citizens, marching roundthe public square to the church, filling the house, the pews, theaisles, the entry, and hanging like a swarm of bees
around the windows.
Judge Adams forgot all his despondency, while Mr. Surplice, who wasgetting a little prosy as a preacher, was as full of fire as in hisyounger days. Mr. Capias was so eloquent that the people stamped tillthe house fairly shook with applause. He ended with resolutions,pledging the support of the people of New Hope to the government,--theirlives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor towards suppressing theRebellion. But more thrilling than all the eloquence of the evening wasthe singing of the Star-Spangled Banner, by Azalia, Daphne, Paul, andHans. They stood on the platform in front of the pulpit, Azalia andDaphne with flags in their hands. How sweet their voices! How inspiringthe moment when they sang:
"And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of thefree and the home of the brave!"
Men threw up their hats, women waved their handkerchiefs, and allcheered and shouted, while many shed tears, as they looked upon thebanner of their country, which had been so insulted and despised. There,in the place where they met on the Sabbath to worship God, they resolvedthat, let it cost what it might of money, of sacrifice, or of life, theold flag should once more wave in triumph upon the walls of FortSumter,--that the Rebellion should be subdued and the traitorspunished.
That was an ever memorable night to Paul. Alone in his chamber, lying onhis bed, whence he could look out, as in childhood, upon the stars, hethought upon what had happened at Fort Sumter, and of the meeting in thechurch at New Hope, and how he had pledged himself with the rest tostand by the flag of his country. The water by the mill was repeatingthe soul-stirring song, which Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and himself hadsung. The maples, elms, and all the forest-trees, like a multitudinouschorus of a great and mighty people, were saying, "It shall wave--shallwave--over the home of the brave!"
But men were wanted. The President had called for them. Ought he not tobe one of the seventy-five thousand? Would not his grandfather, ifalive, point to the old gun, and say, "Go, Paul, your country callsyou?" Were not all who have died for liberty, justice, truth, and rightcalling upon him to do his duty? Were not the oppressed everywherelooking to him? What answer could he give to the millions yet to be, ifin his old age they were to question him as to what part he bore in thegreat struggle? Thus the voices of the ages propounded solemnquestions--voices of earth and heaven--of his duty to his country and toGod. But how could he leave his home, his mother, his friends, hisschool, the choir, Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and give up the dearassociations of the place? What if he should fall in battle? Could hemeet death face to face? But then he remembered that the path of duty,though it may lead through dangers, though it may lead to the death ofthe body, is the way by which peace comes to the soul. It was the mostsolemn moment of his life, for God was questioning him. He heard notonly the voices of the past, and of the winds, the water, and of hiscountry, calling him to do his duty as a patriot, but there was a still,small voice talking of sins committed and duties neglected; of a liewhich he had told in childhood, and which had burned through all theyears like a red-hot iron, leaving a crisped and blackened scar upon hissoul. How could he be at peace? How ease the pain? Tears of anguishrolled down his cheeks. He turned and tossed in agony, wishing that thescar could be cut away, and that he could be made fit to dwell with theangels. But in his agony he heard another voice saying, "Come unto me,and I will give you rest."
They were no longer tears of sorrow which wet his pillow, but of joy,for he saw that Jesus, having carried the cross up to Calvary, was ableand willing also to bear his burden. What a friend,--to take away allhis sin, and leave no scar, no pain, no sorrow! He would serve such afriend with his whole soul. He would do his duty, whatever it might be.For such a friend, he could go through all dangers and win his way tovictory. For him he would live, and for him he would die, if need be, tosave his country.
"Go, my son,--your country calls you, and God will take care of you,"said his mother in the morning, when he told her that he thought it hisduty to enlist.
"I have decided to be a volunteer, and shall spend a half-hour with theschool and then dismiss it, and this will be my last day as a teacher,"said Paul to the school committee, as he went for the last time to theschool-house. It was hard to part with those who were dear to him. Hehad been so kind and gentle, and yet so firm and just, that all thescholars loved him.
"You may lay aside your books, I have not time to hear yourlessons,"--he said, and then talked of what had happened,--said that theflag had been insulted, that justice, law, religious liberty, truth, andright had been overthrown, and that, unless the Rebellion was put down,they would have no country, no home,--that God and his country calledhim, and he must go. The issues at stake were not only worth living for,but they were worth dying for, if they could be secured in no other way.It was a duty to fight for them. How hard it was to say "Good by!" Theywould meet again, but perhaps not in this world. His voice trembled;there was weeping around the room. When he dismissed them, they had noheart to play; they could only think how good and kind he was, and howgreat their loss; and in imagination, looking into the gloomy future,beheld him in the thickest of the fight upon the battle-field.
The whole country was aflame with patriotism. The drum-beat was heardnot only in New Hope, but in every city and village of the land. Therewas a flag on almost every house. Farmers left their ploughs in theunfinished furrows; the fire of the blacksmith's forge went out;carpenters laid down their planes; lawyers put aside their cases in thecourts,--all to become citizen soldiers and aid in saving thecountry,--assembling in squads, companies, and regiments at thecounty-seats.
He called upon Rev. Mr. Surplice. "The Lord be with you, to guide,protect, and bless you," said the good man as he bade Paul farewell. Itwas a blessing and a benediction which followed Paul all the day, whichcomforted and strengthened him, when he reflected that he might bebidding a last farewell to his friends.
He was surprised to find that everybody was his friend; that all badehim God speed,--all, except Mr. Funk and Philip. It was evening when hecalled upon Azalia. He had shaken hands with Daphne and Hans, and othersof his associates. The train would bear him away in the morning. Azaliacame tripping down the path, holding out both hands to meet him at thegate. She greeted him with a sad smile. "You are not going away to thewar, are you?" she asked with faltering voice.
"Yes, Azalia, and I have come to bid you good by!"
"Do you think it your duty to go and leave your mother? It will be hardfor her to give you up; she will miss you very much, and we shall allmiss you."
"I know that the old house will be lonesome,--that the days will be longand the nights dreary to my mother,--that she will listen to everyapproaching footstep and think perhaps it is mine. I know, Azalia, thatpossibly I may never return; I feel that perhaps this is the last time Imay ever take you by the hand; but I feel that God and my country bothare calling me, and that I must go."
"But what if you are killed on the battle-field! O Paul, it is dreadfulto think of!"
"I would rather die there while doing what I feel to be my duty, thanremain here shirking responsibility. Last night I heard the voices ofthe past calling me, and I seemed to see the myriads who are to comeafter us beckoning me. I know it is my duty to go. You would not have mefalter, would you, Azalia?"
She could not reply. Her voice choked with emotion; she had not expectedsuch a question. Tears came into her eyes, and she turned away to hidethem.
"I could not go without coming to see you, to thank you for all yourkindness to me; you have been always a faithful and true friend. Godbless you for all you have done for me! I know your goodness of heart,and I hope that, when I am gone, you will sometimes go in and comfort mymother, and shorten the hours for her; for your smile is always like thesunshine, and it will cheer her."
"I will do what I can to make her forget that you are gone."
"And you will not wholly forget me."
"I shall never forget you," she replied; then, looking steadily uponhim, with a strong effort to keep down her emotion,
said, "Paul, I haveheard that there are many dangers in camp; that soldiers sometimesforget home and old friends, and become callous and hardened to goodinfluences; that they lose sight of heaven and things holy and pure amidthe new duties and strange excitements. But for the sake of those whorespect and honor and love you, you will not give way to vice, will you?I know you will not, for my sake."
"For your sake, Azalia, if for no other reason, I will resist evil, andI will try to serve God and my country faithfully in all things, so thatif I come back, or if I fall in battle, you will not be ashamed ofhaving once been my friend."
She touched her sweet lips to his forehead, saying, "I have nothing elseto give you for such a promise. Remember that it came from your oldfriend, Azalia."
His heart was full. He had braved himself to say farewell to all hisfriends without shedding a tear, but his courage was faltering. Howcould he go, perhaps never to return! He wanted to say more. He wantedto sit down at her feet and worship such goodness; but he could onlydash away the tears, look for a moment into her eyes, drink in the sadsmile upon her face, leave a kiss upon her cheek, press her a moment tohis heart, and say, "God bless you, Azalia!"
He turned hastily away, and passed through the gate. He cast one glancebehind, and beheld her standing in the gravelled walk, her chestnut hairfalling upon her shoulders, and the setting sun throwing around her itsgolden light. She waved him an adieu, and he passed on, thinking of heras his good angel. When far away, pacing his lonely beat at dead ofnight, he would think of her and behold her as in that parting hour.
Winning His Way Page 9
