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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/22702-0.txt b/22702-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9192eb9 --- /dev/null +++ b/22702-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1119 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of An Echo Of Antietam, by Edward Bellamy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: An Echo Of Antietam + 1898 + +Author: Edward Bellamy + +Release Date: September 21, 2007 [EBook #22702] +Last Updated: March 8, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ECHO OF ANTIETAM *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +AN ECHO OF ANTIETAM + +By Edward Bellamy + +1898 + + + + +I + +The air was tremulous with farewells. The regiment, recruited within +sight of the steeples of Waterville, and for three months in camp just +outside the city, was to march the next morning. A series of great +battles had weakened the Federal armies, and the authorities at +Washington had ordered all available men to the front. + +The camp was to be broken up at an early hour, after which the regiment +would march through the city to the depot to take the cars. The streets +along the route of the march were already being decorated with flags and +garlands. The city that afternoon was full of soldiers enjoying their +last leave of absence. The liquor shops were crowded with parties of +them drinking with their friends, while others in threes and fours, with +locked arms, paraded the streets singing patriotic songs, sometimes in +rather maudlin voices, for to-day in every saloon a soldier might enter, +citizens vied for the privilege of treating him to the best in the +house. No man in a blue coat was suffered to pay for anything. + +For the most part, however, the men were sober enough over their +leave-taking. One saw everywhere soldiers and civilians, strolling in +pairs, absorbed in earnest talk. They are brothers, maybe, who have +come away from the house to be alone with each other, while they talk of +family affairs and exchange last charges and promises as to what is to +be done if anything happens. Or perhaps they are business partners, and +the one who has put the country's business before his own is giving his +last counsels as to how the store or the shop shall be managed in his +absence. Many of the blue-clad men have women with them, and these are +the couples that the people oftenest turn to look at. The girl who has +a soldier lover is the envy of her companions to-day as she walks by his +side. Her proud eyes challenge all who come, saying, “See, this is my +hero. I am the one he loves.” + +You could easily tell when it was a wife and not a sweetheart whom the +soldier had with him. There was no challenge in the eyes of the wife. +Young romance shed none of its glamour on the sacrifice she was making +for her native land. It was only because they could not bear to sit any +longer looking at each other in the house that she and her husband had +come out to walk. + +In the residence parts of the town family groups were gathered on shady +piazzas, a blue-coated figure the centre of each. They were trying to +talk cheerfully, making an effort even to laugh a little. + +Now and then one of the women stole unobserved from the circle, but her +bravely smiling face as she presently returned gave no inkling of the +flood of tears that had eased her heart in some place apart. The young +soldier himself was looking a little pale and nervous with all his +affected good spirits, and it was safe to guess that he was even then +thinking how often this scene would come before him afterwards, by the +camp-fire and on the eve of battle. + +In the village of Upton, some four or five miles out of Waterville, on a +broad piazza at the side of a house on the main street, a group of four +persons were seated around a tea-table. + +The centre of interest of this group, as of so many others that day, +was a soldier. He looked not over twenty-five, with dark blue eyes, dark +hair cut close to his head, and a mustache trimmed crisply in military +fashion. His uniform set off to advantage an athletic figure of youthful +slender-ness, and his bronzed complexion told of long days of practice +on the drill-ground in the school of the company and the battalion. He +wore the shoulder-straps of a second lieutenant. + +On one side of the soldier sat the Rev. Mr. Morton, his cousin, and on +the other Miss Bertha Morton, a kindly faced, middle-aged lady, who was +her brother's housekeeper and the hostess of this occasion. + +The fourth member of the party was a girl of nineteen or twenty. She was +a very pretty girl, and although to-day her pallid cheeks and red and +swollen eyelids would to other eyes have detracted somewhat from her +charms, it was certain that they did not make her seem less adorable +to the young officer, for he was her lover, and was to march with the +regiment in the morning. + +Lieutenant Philip King was a lawyer, and by perseverance and native +ability had worked up a fair practice for so young a man in and around +Upton. When he volunteered, he had to make up his mind to leave this +carefully gathered clientage to scatter, or to be filched from him by +less patriotic rivals; but it may be well believed that this seemed to +him a little thing compared with leaving Grace Roberts, with the chance +of never returning to make her his wife. If, indeed, it had been for him +to say, he would have placed his happiness beyond hazard by marrying +her before the regiment marched; nor would she have been averse, but her +mother, an invalid widow, took a sensible rather than a sentimental view +of the case. If he were killed, she said, a wife would do him no good; +and if he came home again, Grace would be waiting for him, and that +ought to satisfy a reasonable man. It had to satisfy an unreasonable +one. The Robertses had always lived just beyond the garden from the +parsonage, and Grace, who from a little girl had been a great pet of the +childless minister and his sister, was almost as much at home there as +in her mother's house. When Philip fell in love with her, the Mortons +were delighted. They could have wished nothing better for either. From +the first Miss Morton had done all she could to make matters smooth for +the lovers, and the present little farewell banquet was but the last of +many meetings she had prepared for them at the parsonage. + +Philip had come out from camp on a three-hours' leave that afternoon, +and would have to report again at half-past seven. It was nearly that +hour now, though still light, the season being midsummer. There had been +an effort on the part of all to keep up a cheerful tone; but as the time +of the inevitable separation drew near, the conversation had been more +and more left to the minister and his sister, who, with observations +sometimes a little forced, continued to fend off silence and the +demoralization it would be likely to bring to their young friends. Grace +had been the first to drop out of the talking, and Philip's answers, +when he was addressed, grew more and more at random, as the meetings of +his eyes with his sweetheart's became more frequent and lasted longer. + +“He will be the handsomest officer in the regiment, that's one comfort. +Won't he, Grace?” said Miss Morton cheerily. + +The girl nodded and smiled faintly. Her eyes were brimming, and the +twitching of her lips from time to time betrayed how great was the +effort with which she kept her self-command. + +“Yes,” said Mr. Morton; “but though he looks very well now, it is +nothing to the imposing appearance he will present when he comes back +with a colonel's shoulder-straps. You should be thinking of that, +Grace.” + +“I expect we shall hear from him every day,” said Miss Morton. “He will +have no excuse for not writing with all those envelopes stamped and +addressed, with blank paper in them, which Grace has given him. You +should always have three or four in your coat pocket, Phil.” + +The young man nodded. + +“I suppose for the most part we shall learn of you through Grace; but +you mustn't forget us entirely, my boy,” said Mr. Morton. “We shall want +to hear from you directly now and then.” + +“Yes; I 'll be sure to write,” Philip replied. + +“I suppose it will be time enough to see the regiment pass if we are in +our places by nine o'clock,” suggested Miss Morton, after a silence. + +“I think so,” said her brother. “It is a great affair to break camp, and +I don't believe the march will begin till after that time.” + +“James has got us one of the windows of Ray & Seymour's offices, you +know, Philip,” resumed Miss Morton; “which one did you say, James?” + +“The north one.” + +“Yes, the north one,” she resumed. “They say every window on Main Street +along the route of the regiment is rented. Grace will be with us, you +know. You must n't forget to look up at us as you go by--as if the +young man were likely to!” + +He was evidently not now listening to her at all. His eyes were fastened +upon the girl's opposite him, and they seemed to have quite forgotten +the others. Miss Morton and her brother exchanged compassionate glances. +Tears were in the lady's eyes. A clock in the sitting-room began to +strike: + +“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.” + +Philip started. + +“What time is that?” he asked, a little huskily. No one replied at once. +Then Mr. Morton said: + +“I am afraid it struck seven, my boy.” + +“I must leave in ten minutes then,” said the young man, rising from the +table. The rest followed his example. + +“I wonder if the buggy will be in time?” said he. + +“It is at the gate,” replied Miss Morton. “I heard it drive up some time +ago.” + +Unmindful of the others now, Philip put his arm about Grace's waist and +drew her away to the end of the piazza and thence out into the garden. + +“Poor young things,” murmured Miss Morton, the tears running down her +cheeks as she looked after them. “It is pitiful, James, to see how they +suffer.” + +“Yes,” said the minister; “and there are a great many just such scenes +to-day. Ah, well, as St. Paul says, we see as yet but in part.” + +Passing in and out among the shrubbery, and presently disappearing +from the sympathetic eyes upon the piazza, the lovers came to a little +summer-house, and there they entered. Taking her wrists in his hands, he +held her away from him, and his eyes went slowly over her from head to +foot, as if he would impress upon his mind an image that absence should +not have power to dim. + +“You are so beautiful,” he said, “that in this moment, when I ought to +have all my courage, you make me feel that I am a madman to leave you +for the sake of any cause on earth. The future to most men is but a +chance of happiness, and when they risk it they only risk a chance. +In staking their lives, they only stake a lottery ticket, which would +probably draw a blank. But my ticket has drawn a capital prize. I risk +not the chance, but the certainty, of happiness. I believe I am a fool, +and if I am killed, that will be the first thing they will say to me on +the other side.” + +“Don't talk of that, Phil. Oh, don't talk of being killed!” + +“No, no; of course not!” he exclaimed. “Don't fret about that; I shall +not be killed. I've no notion of being killed. But what a fool I am to +waste these last moments staring at you when I might be kissing you, my +love, my love!” And clasping her in his arms, he covered her face with +kisses. + +She began to sob convulsively. + +“Don't, darling; don't! Don't make it so hard for me,” he whispered +hoarsely. + +“Oh, do let me cry,” she wailed. “It was so hard for me to hold back all +the time we were at table. I must cry, or my heart will break. Oh, my +own dear Phil, what if I should never see you again! Oh! Oh!” + +“Nonsense, darling,” he said, crowding down the lump that seemed like +iron in his throat, and making a desperate effort to keep his voice +steady. “You will see me again, never doubt it. Don't I tell you I am +coming back? The South cannot hold out much longer. Everybody says so. I +shall be home in a year, and then you will be my wife, to be God's Grace +to me all the rest of my life. Our happiness will be on interest till +then; ten per cent, a month at least, compound interest, piling up every +day. Just think of that, dear; don't let yourself think of anything +else.” + +“Oh, Phil, how I love you!” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck +in a passion of tenderness. “Nobody is like you. Nobody ever was. Surely +God will not part us. Surely He will not. He is too good.” + +“No, dear, He will not. Some day I shall come back. It will not be +long. Perhaps I shall find you waiting for me in this same little +summer-house. Let us think of that. It was here, you know, we found out +each other's secret that day.” + +“I had found out yours long before,” she said, faintly smiling. + +“Time 's up, Phil.” It was Mr. Morton's voice calling to them from the +piazza. + +“I must go, darling. Good-by.” + +“Oh, no, not yet; not quite yet,” she wailed, clinging to him. “Why, we +have been here but a few moments. It can't be ten minutes yet.” + +Under the influence of that close, passionate embrace, those clinging +kisses and mingling tears, there began to come over Philip a feeling of +weakness, of fainting courage, a disposition to cry out, “Nothing can be +so terrible as this. I will not bear it; I will not go.” By a tyrannical +effort of will, against which his whole nature cried out, he unwound her +arms from his neck and said in a choked voice:-- + +“Darling, this is harder than any battle I shall have to fight, but this +is what I enlisted for. I must go.” + +He had reached the door of the summer-house, not daring for honor's sake +to look back, when a heartbroken cry smote his ear. + +“You have n't kissed me good-by!” + +He had kissed her a hundred times, but these kisses she apparently +distinguished from the good-by kiss. He came back, and taking her again +in his embrace, kissed her lips, her throat, her bosom, and then once +more their lips met, and in that kiss of parting which plucks the heart +up by the roots. + +How strong must be the barrier between one soul and another that they do +not utterly merge in moments like that, turning the agony of parting to +the bliss of blended being! + +Pursued by the sound of her desolate sobbing, he fled away. + +The stable-boy held the dancing horse at the gate, and Mr. Morton and +his sister stood waiting there. + +“Good-by, Phil, till we see you again,” said Miss Morton, kissing him +tenderly. “We 'll take good care of her for you.” + +“Will you please go to her now?” he said huskily. “She is in the +summer-house. For God's sake try to comfort her.” + +“Yes, poor boy, I will,” she answered. He shook hands with Mr. Morton +and jumped into the buggy. + +“I 'll get a furlough and be back in a few months, maybe. Be sure to +tell her that,” he said. + +The stable-boy stood aside; the mettlesome horse gave a plunge and +started off at a three-minute gait. The boy drew out his watch and +observed: “He hain't got but fifteen minutes to git to camp in, but he +'ll do it. The mare 's a stepper, and Phil King knows how to handle the +ribbons.” + +The buggy vanished in a cloud of dust around the next turn in the road. +The stable-boy strode whistling down the street, the minister went to +his study, and Miss Morton disappeared in the shrubbery in the direction +of the summer-house. + + + + +II + +Early next morning the country roads leading into Waterville were +covered with carts and wagons and carriages loaded with people coming +into town to see the regiment off. The streets were hung with flags +and spanned with decorated arches bearing patriotic inscriptions. Bed, +white, and blue streamers hung in festoons from building to building +and floated from cornices. The stores and places of business were all +closed, the sidewalks were packed with people in their Sunday clothes, +and the windows and balconies were lined with gazers long before it was +time for the regiment to appear. Everybody--men, women, and children +--wore the national colors in cockades or rosettes, while many young +girls were dressed throughout in red, white, and blue. The city seemed +tricked out for some rare gala-day, but the grave faces of the expectant +throng, and the subdued and earnest manner which extended even to the +older children, stamped this as no ordinary holiday. + +After hours of patient waiting, at last the word passes from mouth to +mouth, “They are coming!” Vehicles are quickly driven out of the way, +and in a general hush all eyes are turned towards the head of the +street. Presently there is a burst of martial music, and the regiment +comes wheeling round the corner into view and fills the wide street from +curb to curb with its broad front. As the blue river sweeps along, the +rows of polished bayonets, rising and falling with the swinging tread +of the men, are like interminable ranks of foam-crested waves rolling in +upon the shore. The imposing mass, with its rhythmic movement, gives the +impression of a single organism. One forgets to look for the individuals +in it, forgets that there are individuals. Even those who have brothers, +sons, lovers there, for a moment almost forget them in the impression of +a mighty whole. The mind is slow to realize that this great dragon, +so terrible in its beauty, emitting light as it moves from a thousand +burnished scales, with flaming crest proudly waving in the van, is but +an aggregation of men singly so feeble. + +The hearts of the lookers-on as they gaze are swelling fast. An afflatus +of heroism given forth by this host of self-devoted men communicates +itself to the most stolid spectators. The booming of the drum fills the +brain, and the blood in the veins leaps to its rhythm. The unearthly +gayety of the fife, like the sweet, shrill song of a bird soaring above +the battle, infects the nerves till the idea of death brings a scornful +smile to the lips. Eyes glaze with rapturous tears as they rest upon the +flag. There is a thrill of voluptuous sweetness in the thought of dying +for it. Life seems of value only as it gives the poorest something to +sacrifice. It is dying that makes the glory of the world, and all other +employments seem but idle while the regiment passes. + +The time for farewells is gone by. The lucky men at the ends of the +ranks have indeed an opportunity without breaking step to exchange an +occasional hand-shake with a friend on the sidewalk, or to snatch a kiss +from wife or sweetheart, but those in the middle of the line can only +look their farewells. Now and then a mother intrusts her baby to a +file-leader to be passed along from hand to hand till it reaches the +father, to be sent back with a kiss, or, maybe, perched aloft on his +shoulder, to ride to the depot, crowing at the music and clutching at +the gleaming bayonets. At every such touch of nature the people cheer +wildly. From every window and balcony the ladies shower garlands upon +the troops. + +Where is Grace? for this is the Upton company which is passing now. +Yonder she stands on a balcony, between Mr. Morton and his sister. She +is very pale and the tears are streaming down her cheeks, but her face +is radiant. She is smiling through her tears, as if there was no such +thing on earth as fear or sorrow. She has looked forward to this ordeal +with harrowing expectations, only to find herself at the trying moment +seized upon and lifted above all sense of personal affliction by the +passion of self-devotion with which the air is electric. Her face as +she looks down upon her lover is that of a priestess in the ecstasy +of sacrifice. He is saluting with his sword. Now he has passed. With a +great sob she turns away. She does not care for the rest of the pageant. +Her patriotism has suddenly gone. The ecstasy of sacrifice is over. She +is no longer a priestess, but a brokenhearted girl, who only asks to be +led away to some place where she can weep till her lover returns. + + + + +III + +There was to be a great battle the next day. The two armies had been +long manoeuvring for position, and now they stood like wrestlers who +have selected their holds and, with body braced against body, knee +against knee, wait for the signal to begin the struggle. There had +been during the afternoon some brisk fighting, but a common desire to +postpone the decisive contest till the morrow had prevented the main +forces from becoming involved. Philip's regiment had thus far only been +engaged in a few trifling skirmishes, barely enough to stir the blood. +This was to be its first battle, and the position to which it had been +allotted promised a bloody baptism in the morning. The men were in +excellent heart, but as night settled down, there was little or no +merriment to be heard about the camp-fires. Most were gathered in +groups, discussing in low tones the chances of the morrow. Some, knowing +that every fibre of muscle would be needed for the work before them, had +wisely gone to sleep, while here and there a man, heedless of the talk +going on about him, was lying on his back staring up at the darkening +sky, thinking. + +As the twilight deepened, Philip strolled to the top of a little knoll +just out of the camp and sat down, with a vague notion of casting up +accounts a little in view of the final settlement which very possibly +might come for him next day. But the inspiration of the scene around him +soon diverted his mind from personal engrossments. Some distance down +the lines he could see the occasional flash of a gun, where a battery +was lazily shelling a piece of woods which it was desirable to keep the +enemy from occupying during the night. A burning barn in that direction +made a flare on the sky. Over behind the wooded hills where the +Confederates lay, rockets were going up, indicating the exchange of +signals and the perfecting of plans which might mean defeat and ruin to +him and his the next day. Behind him, within the Federal lines, clouds +of dust, dimly outlined against the glimmering landscape, betrayed the +location of the roads along which artillery, cavalry, infantry were +hurrying eagerly forward to take their assigned places for the morrow's +work. + +Who said that men fear death? Who concocted that fable for old wives? He +should have stood that night with Philip in the midst of a host of one +hundred and twenty-five thousand men in the full flush and vigor of +life, calmly and deliberately making ready at dawn to receive death +in its most horrid forms at one another's hands. It is in vain that +Religion invests the tomb with terror, and Philosophy, shuddering, +averts her face; the nations turn from these gloomy teachers to storm +its portals in exultant hosts, battering them wide enough for thousands +to charge through abreast. The heroic instinct of humanity with its +high contempt of death is wiser and truer, never let us doubt, +than superstitious terrors or philosophic doubts. It testifies to a +conviction, deeper than reason, that man is greater than his seeming +self; to an underlying consciousness that his mortal life is but an +accident of his real existence, the fashion of a day, to be lightly worn +and gayly doffed at duty's call. + +What a pity it truly is that the tonic air of battlefields--the air +that Philip breathed that night before Antietam--cannot be gathered +up and preserved as a precious elixir to reinvigorate the atmosphere in +times of peace, when men grow faint of heart and cowardly, and quake at +thought of death. + +The soldiers huddled in their blankets on the ground slept far more +soundly that night before the battle than their men-folk and women-folk +in their warm beds at home. For them it was a night of watching, a vigil +of prayers and tears. The telegraph in those days made of the nation an +intensely sensitive organism, with nerves a thousand miles long. Ere its +echoes had died away, every shot fired at the front had sent a tremor +to the anxious hearts at home. The newspapers and bulletin boards in +all the towns and cities of the North had announced that a great battle +would surely take place the next day, and, as the night closed in, a +mighty cloud of prayer rose from innumerable firesides, the self-same +prayer from each, that he who had gone from that home might survive the +battle, whoever else must fall. + +The wife, lest her own appeal might fail, taught her cooing baby to lisp +the father's name, thinking that surely the Great Father's heart would +not be able to resist a baby's prayer. The widowed mother prayed that if +it were consistent with God's will he would spare her son. She laid her +heart, pierced through with many sorrows, before Him. She had borne so +much, life had been so hard, her boy was all she had to show for so much +endured,--might not this cup pass? Pale, impassioned maids, kneeling +by their virgin beds, wore out the night with an importunity that would +not be put off. Sure in their great love and their little knowledge that +no case could be like theirs, they beseeched God with bitter weeping +for their lovers' lives, because, forsooth, they could not bear it if +hurt came to them. The answers to many thousands of these agonizing +appeals of maid and wife and mother were already in the enemy's +cartridge-boxes. + + + + +IV + +The day came. The dispatches in the morning papers stated that the +armies would probably be engaged from an early hour. + +Who that does not remember those battle-summers can realize from +any telling how the fathers and mothers, the wives and sisters and +sweethearts at home, lived through the days when it was known that a +great battle was going on at the front in which their loved ones were +engaged? It was very quiet in the house on those days of battle. All +spoke in hushed voices and stepped lightly. The children, too small to +understand the meaning of the shadow on the home, felt it and took their +noisy sports elsewhere. There was little conversation, except as to when +definite news might be expected. The household work dragged sadly, for +though the women sought refuge from thought in occupation, they were +constantly dropping whatever they had in hand to rush away to their +chambers to face the presentiment, perhaps suddenly borne in upon them +with the force of a conviction, that they might be called on to bear +the worst. The table was set for the regular meals, but there was little +pretense of eating. The eyes of all had a far-off expression, and they +seemed barely to see one another. There was an intent, listening look +upon their faces, as if they were hearkening to the roar of the battle a +thousand miles away. + +Many pictures of battles have been painted, but no true one yet, for +the pictures contain only men. The women are unaccountably left out. +We ought to see not alone the opposing lines of battle writhing and +twisting in a death, embrace, the batteries smoking and flaming, the +hurricanes of cavalry, but innumerable women also, spectral forms of +mothers, wives, sweethearts, clinging about the necks of the advancing +soldiers, vainly trying to shield them with their bosoms, extending +supplicating hands to the foe, raising eyes of anguish to Heaven. The +soldiers, grim-faced, with battle-lighted eyes, do not see the ghostly +forms that throng them, but shoot and cut and stab across and through +them as if they were not there,--yes, through them, for few are the +balls and bayonets that reach their marks without traversing some of +these devoted breasts. Spectral, alas, is their guardianship, but real +are their wounds and deadly as any the combatants receive. + +Soon after breakfast on the day of the battle Grace came across to +the parsonage, her swollen eyes and pallid face telling of a sleepless +night. She could not bear her mother's company that day, for she knew +that she had never greatly liked Philip. Miss Morton was very tender and +sympathetic. Grace was a little comforted by Mr. Morton's saying that +commonly great battles did not open much before noon. It was a respite +to be able to think that probably up to that moment at least no harm +had come to Philip. In the early afternoon the minister drove into +Waterville to get the earliest bulletins at the “Banner” office, leaving +the two women alone. + +The latter part of the afternoon a neighbor who had been in Waterville +drove by the house, and Miss Morton called to him to know if there were +any news yet. He drew a piece of paper from his pocket, on which he had +scribbled the latest bulletin before the “Banner” office, and read as +follows: “The battle opened with a vigorous attack by our right. The +enemy was forced back, stubbornly contesting every inch of ground. +General ------'s division is now bearing the brunt of the fight and is +suffering heavily. The result is yet uncertain.” + +The division mentioned was the one in which Philip's regiment was +included. “Is suffering heavily,”--those were the words. There was +something fearful in the way the present tense brought home to Grace a +sense of the battle as then actually in progress. It meant that while +she sat there on the shady piazza with the drowsy hum of the bees in her +ears, looking out on the quiet lawn where the house cat, stretched +on the grass, kept a sleepy eye on the birds as they flitted in the +branches of the apple-trees, Philip might be facing a storm of lead +and iron, or, maybe, blent in some desperate hand-to-hand struggle, was +defending his life--her life--against murderous cut and thrust. + +To begin to pray for his safety was not to dare to cease, for to cease +would be to withdraw a sort of protection--all, alas I she could give +--and abandon him to his enemies. If she had been watching over him +from above the battle, an actual witness of the carnage going on that +afternoon on the far-off field, she could scarcely have endured a more +harrowing suspense from moment to moment. Overcome with the agony, she +threw herself on the sofa in the sitting-room and lay quivering, +with her face buried in the pillow, while Miss Morton sat beside her, +stroking her hair and saying such feeble, soothing words as she might. + +It is always hard, and for ardent temperaments almost impossible, to +hold the mind balanced in a state of suspense, yielding overmuch neither +to hope nor to fear, under circumstances like these. As a relief to +the torture which such a state of tension ends in causing, the mind +at length, if it cannot abandon itself to hope, embraces even despair. +About five o'clock Miss Morton was startled by an exceeding bitter cry. +Grace was sitting upon the sofa. “Oh, Miss Morton!” she cried, bursting +into tears which before she had not been able to shed, “he is dead!” + +“Grace! Grace! what do you mean?” + +“He is dead, I know he is dead!” wailed the girl; and then she explained +that while from moment to moment she had sent up prayers for him, every +breath a cry to God, she suddenly had been unable to pray more, and this +she felt was a sign that petition for his life was now vain. Miss +Morton strove to convince her that this was but an effect of overwrought +nerves, but with slight success. + +In the early evening Mr. Morton returned with the latest news the +telegraph had brought. The full scope of the result was not yet known. +The advantage had probably remained with the National forces, although +the struggle had been one of those close and stubborn ones, with scanty +laurels for the victors, to be expected when men of one race meet in +battle. The losses on both sides had been enormous, and the report was +confirmed that Philip's division had been badly cut up. + +The parsonage was but one of thousands of homes in the land where no +lamps were lighted that evening, the members of the household sitting +together in the dark,--silent, or talking in low tones of the far-away +star-lighted battlefield, the anguish of the wounded, the still heaps of +the dead. + +Nevertheless, when at last Grace went home she was less entirely +despairing than in the afternoon. Mr. Morton, in his calm, convincing +way, had shown her the groundlessness of her impression that Philip +was certainly dead, and had enabled her again to entertain hope. It +no longer rose, indeed, to the height of a belief that he had escaped +wholly scathless. In face of the terrible tidings, that would have been +too presumptuous. But perhaps he had been only wounded. Yesterday the +thought would have been insupportable, but now she was eager to make +this compromise with Providence. She was distinctly affected by the +curious superstition that if we voluntarily concede something to fate, +while yet the facts are not known, we gain a sort of equitable assurance +against a worse thing. It was settled, she told herself, that she +was not to be overcome or even surprised to hear that Philip was +wounded,--slightly wounded. She was no better than other women, that he +should be wholly spared. + +The paper next morning gave many names of officers who had fallen, +but Philip's was not among them. The list was confessedly incomplete; +nevertheless, the absence of his name was reassuring. Grace went across +the garden after breakfast to talk with Miss Morton about the news and +the auspicious lack of news. Her friend's cheerful tone infused her with +fresh courage. To one who has despaired, a very little hope goes to +the head Eke wine to the brain of a faster, and, though still very +tremulous, Grace could even smile a little now and was almost cheerful. +Secretly already she was beginning to play false with fate, and, in flat +repudiation of her last night's compact, to indulge the hope that her +soldier had not been even wounded. But this was only at the bottom of +her heart. She did not own to herself that she really did it. She felt a +little safer not to break the bargain yet. + +About eleven o'clock in the forenoon Mr. Morton came in. His start and +look of dismay on seeing Grace indicated that he had expected to find +his sister alone. He hastily attempted to conceal an open telegram which +he held in his hand, but it was too late. Grace had already seen it, and +whatever the tidings it might contain, there was no longer any question +of holding them back or extenuating them. Miss Morton, after one look +at her brother's face, silently came to the girl's side and put her arms +around her waist. “Christ, our Saviour,” she murmured, “for thy name's +sake, help her now.” Then the minister said:-- + +“Try to be brave, try to bear it worthily of him; for, my poor little +girl, your sacrifice has been accepted. He fell in a charge at the head +of his men.” + + + + +V + +Philip's body was brought home for burial, and the funeral was a great +event in the village. Business of all kinds was suspended, and all the +people united in making of the day a solemn patriotic festival. Mr. +Morton preached the funeral sermon. + +“Oh, talk about the country,” sobbed Grace, when he asked her if there +was anything in particular she would like him to speak of. + +“For pity's sake don't let me feel sorry now that I gave him up for the +Union. Don't leave me now to think it would have been better if I had +not let him go.” + +So he preached of the country, as ministers sometimes did preach in +those days, making it very plain that in a righteous cause men did well +to die for their native land and their women did well to give them up. +Expounding the lofty wisdom of self-sacrifice, he showed how truly it +was said that “whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever +will lose his life... shall find it,” and how none make such rich profit +out of their lives as the heroes who seem to throw them away. + +They had come, he told the assembled people, to mourn no misadventure, +no misfortune; this dead soldier was not pitiable. He was no victim of a +tear-compelling fate. No broken shaft typified his career. He was rather +one who had done well for himself, a wise young merchant of his blood, +who having seen a way to barter his life at incredible advantage, at +no less a rate indeed than a man's for a nation's, had not let slip so +great an opportunity. + +So he went on, still likening the life of a man to the wares of a +shopkeeper, worth to him only what they can be sold for and a loss if +overkept, till those who listened began to grow ill at ease in presence +of that flag-draped coffin, and were vaguely troubled because they still +lived. + +Then he spoke of those who had been bereaved. This soldier, he said, +like his comrades, had staked for his country not only his own life but +the earthly happiness of others also, having been fully empowered by +them to do so. Some had staked with their own lives the happiness of +parents, some that of wives and children, others maybe the hopes of +maidens pledged to them. In offering up their lives to their country +they had laid with them upon the altar these other lives which were +bound up with theirs, and the same fire of sacrifice had consumed them +both. A few days before, in the storm of battle, those who had gone +forth had fulfilled their share of the joint sacrifice. In a thousand +homes, with tears and the anguish of breaking hearts, those who had +sent them forth were that day fulfilling theirs. Let them now in their +extremity seek support in the same spirit of patriotic devotion which +had upheld their heroes in the hour of death. As they had been lifted +above fear by the thought that it was for their country they were dying, +not less should those who mourned them find inspiration in remembering +it was for the nation's sake that their tears were shed, and for the +country that their hearts were broken. It had been appointed that half +in blood of men and half in women's tears the ransom of the people +should be paid, so that their sorrow was not in vain, but for the +healing of the nation. + +It behooved these, therefore, to prove worthy of their high calling of +martyrdom, and while they must needs weep, not to weep as other women +wept, with hearts bowed down, but rather with uplifted faces, adopting +and ratifying, though it might be with breaking hearts, this exchange +they had made of earthly happiness for the life of their native land. So +should they honor those they mourned, and be joined with them not only +in sacrifice but in the spirit of sacrifice. + +So it was in response to the appeal of this stricken girl before him +that the minister talked of the country, and to such purpose was it that +the piteous thing she had dreaded, the feeling, now when it was forever +too late, that it would have been better if she had kept her lover back, +found no place in her heart. There was, indeed, had she known it, no +danger at all that she would be left to endure that, so long as she +dreaded it, for the only prayer that never is unanswered is the prayer +to be lifted above self. So to pray and so to wish is but to cease to +resist the divine gravitations ever pulling at the soul. As the minister +discoursed of the mystic gain of self-sacrifice, the mystery of which +he spoke was fulfilled in her heart. She appeared to stand in some +place overarching life t and death, and there was made partaker of an +exultation whereof if religion and philosophy might but catch and hold +the secret, their ancient quest were over. + +Grazing through streaming eyes upon the coffin of her lover, she was +able freely to consent to the sacrifice of her own life which he had +made in giving up his own. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of An Echo Of Antietam, by Edward Bellamy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ECHO OF ANTIETAM *** + +***** This file should be named 22702-0.txt or 22702-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/7/0/22702/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: An Echo Of Antietam + 1898 + +Author: Edward Bellamy + +Release Date: September 21, 2007 [EBook #22702] +Last Updated: March 8, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ECHO OF ANTIETAM *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + AN ECHO OF ANTIETAM + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Edward Bellamy <br /> <br /> 1898 + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary=""> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> V </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I + </h2> + <p> + The air was tremulous with farewells. The regiment, recruited within sight + of the steeples of Waterville, and for three months in camp just outside + the city, was to march the next morning. A series of great battles had + weakened the Federal armies, and the authorities at Washington had ordered + all available men to the front. + </p> + <p> + The camp was to be broken up at an early hour, after which the regiment + would march through the city to the depot to take the cars. The streets + along the route of the march were already being decorated with flags and + garlands. The city that afternoon was full of soldiers enjoying their last + leave of absence. The liquor shops were crowded with parties of them + drinking with their friends, while others in threes and fours, with locked + arms, paraded the streets singing patriotic songs, sometimes in rather + maudlin voices, for to-day in every saloon a soldier might enter, citizens + vied for the privilege of treating him to the best in the house. No man in + a blue coat was suffered to pay for anything. + </p> + <p> + For the most part, however, the men were sober enough over their + leave-taking. One saw everywhere soldiers and civilians, strolling in + pairs, absorbed in earnest talk. They are brothers, maybe, who have come + away from the house to be alone with each other, while they talk of family + affairs and exchange last charges and promises as to what is to be done if + anything happens. Or perhaps they are business partners, and the one who + has put the country's business before his own is giving his last counsels + as to how the store or the shop shall be managed in his absence. Many of + the blue-clad men have women with them, and these are the couples that the + people oftenest turn to look at. The girl who has a soldier lover is the + envy of her companions to-day as she walks by his side. Her proud eyes + challenge all who come, saying, “See, this is my hero. I am the one he + loves.” + </p> + <p> + You could easily tell when it was a wife and not a sweetheart whom the + soldier had with him. There was no challenge in the eyes of the wife. + Young romance shed none of its glamour on the sacrifice she was making for + her native land. It was only because they could not bear to sit any longer + looking at each other in the house that she and her husband had come out + to walk. + </p> + <p> + In the residence parts of the town family groups were gathered on shady + piazzas, a blue-coated figure the centre of each. They were trying to talk + cheerfully, making an effort even to laugh a little. + </p> + <p> + Now and then one of the women stole unobserved from the circle, but her + bravely smiling face as she presently returned gave no inkling of the + flood of tears that had eased her heart in some place apart. The young + soldier himself was looking a little pale and nervous with all his + affected good spirits, and it was safe to guess that he was even then + thinking how often this scene would come before him afterwards, by the + camp-fire and on the eve of battle. + </p> + <p> + In the village of Upton, some four or five miles out of Waterville, on a + broad piazza at the side of a house on the main street, a group of four + persons were seated around a tea-table. + </p> + <p> + The centre of interest of this group, as of so many others that day, was a + soldier. He looked not over twenty-five, with dark blue eyes, dark hair + cut close to his head, and a mustache trimmed crisply in military fashion. + His uniform set off to advantage an athletic figure of youthful + slender-ness, and his bronzed complexion told of long days of practice on + the drill-ground in the school of the company and the battalion. He wore + the shoulder-straps of a second lieutenant. + </p> + <p> + On one side of the soldier sat the Rev. Mr. Morton, his cousin, and on the + other Miss Bertha Morton, a kindly faced, middle-aged lady, who was her + brother's housekeeper and the hostess of this occasion. + </p> + <p> + The fourth member of the party was a girl of nineteen or twenty. She was a + very pretty girl, and although to-day her pallid cheeks and red and + swollen eyelids would to other eyes have detracted somewhat from her + charms, it was certain that they did not make her seem less adorable to + the young officer, for he was her lover, and was to march with the + regiment in the morning. + </p> + <p> + Lieutenant Philip King was a lawyer, and by perseverance and native + ability had worked up a fair practice for so young a man in and around + Upton. When he volunteered, he had to make up his mind to leave this + carefully gathered clientage to scatter, or to be filched from him by less + patriotic rivals; but it may be well believed that this seemed to him a + little thing compared with leaving Grace Roberts, with the chance of never + returning to make her his wife. If, indeed, it had been for him to say, he + would have placed his happiness beyond hazard by marrying her before the + regiment marched; nor would she have been averse, but her mother, an + invalid widow, took a sensible rather than a sentimental view of the case. + If he were killed, she said, a wife would do him no good; and if he came + home again, Grace would be waiting for him, and that ought to satisfy a + reasonable man. It had to satisfy an unreasonable one. The Robertses had + always lived just beyond the garden from the parsonage, and Grace, who + from a little girl had been a great pet of the childless minister and his + sister, was almost as much at home there as in her mother's house. When + Philip fell in love with her, the Mortons were delighted. They could have + wished nothing better for either. From the first Miss Morton had done all + she could to make matters smooth for the lovers, and the present little + farewell banquet was but the last of many meetings she had prepared for + them at the parsonage. + </p> + <p> + Philip had come out from camp on a three-hours' leave that afternoon, and + would have to report again at half-past seven. It was nearly that hour + now, though still light, the season being midsummer. There had been an + effort on the part of all to keep up a cheerful tone; but as the time of + the inevitable separation drew near, the conversation had been more and + more left to the minister and his sister, who, with observations sometimes + a little forced, continued to fend off silence and the demoralization it + would be likely to bring to their young friends. Grace had been the first + to drop out of the talking, and Philip's answers, when he was addressed, + grew more and more at random, as the meetings of his eyes with his + sweetheart's became more frequent and lasted longer. + </p> + <p> + “He will be the handsomest officer in the regiment, that's one comfort. + Won't he, Grace?” said Miss Morton cheerily. + </p> + <p> + The girl nodded and smiled faintly. Her eyes were brimming, and the + twitching of her lips from time to time betrayed how great was the effort + with which she kept her self-command. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Morton; “but though he looks very well now, it is nothing + to the imposing appearance he will present when he comes back with a + colonel's shoulder-straps. You should be thinking of that, Grace.” + </p> + <p> + “I expect we shall hear from him every day,” said Miss Morton. “He will + have no excuse for not writing with all those envelopes stamped and + addressed, with blank paper in them, which Grace has given him. You should + always have three or four in your coat pocket, Phil.” + </p> + <p> + The young man nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose for the most part we shall learn of you through Grace; but you + mustn't forget us entirely, my boy,” said Mr. Morton. “We shall want to + hear from you directly now and then.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I 'll be sure to write,” Philip replied. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it will be time enough to see the regiment pass if we are in + our places by nine o'clock,” suggested Miss Morton, after a silence. + </p> + <p> + “I think so,” said her brother. “It is a great affair to break camp, and I + don't believe the march will begin till after that time.” + </p> + <p> + “James has got us one of the windows of Ray & Seymour's offices, you + know, Philip,” resumed Miss Morton; “which one did you say, James?” + </p> + <p> + “The north one.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the north one,” she resumed. “They say every window on Main Street + along the route of the regiment is rented. Grace will be with us, you + know. You must n't forget to look up at us as you go by—as if the + young man were likely to!” + </p> + <p> + He was evidently not now listening to her at all. His eyes were fastened + upon the girl's opposite him, and they seemed to have quite forgotten the + others. Miss Morton and her brother exchanged compassionate glances. Tears + were in the lady's eyes. A clock in the sitting-room began to strike: + </p> + <p> + “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.” + </p> + <p> + Philip started. + </p> + <p> + “What time is that?” he asked, a little huskily. No one replied at once. + Then Mr. Morton said: + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid it struck seven, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “I must leave in ten minutes then,” said the young man, rising from the + table. The rest followed his example. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if the buggy will be in time?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “It is at the gate,” replied Miss Morton. “I heard it drive up some time + ago.” + </p> + <p> + Unmindful of the others now, Philip put his arm about Grace's waist and + drew her away to the end of the piazza and thence out into the garden. + </p> + <p> + “Poor young things,” murmured Miss Morton, the tears running down her + cheeks as she looked after them. “It is pitiful, James, to see how they + suffer.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the minister; “and there are a great many just such scenes + to-day. Ah, well, as St. Paul says, we see as yet but in part.” + </p> + <p> + Passing in and out among the shrubbery, and presently disappearing from + the sympathetic eyes upon the piazza, the lovers came to a little + summer-house, and there they entered. Taking her wrists in his hands, he + held her away from him, and his eyes went slowly over her from head to + foot, as if he would impress upon his mind an image that absence should + not have power to dim. + </p> + <p> + “You are so beautiful,” he said, “that in this moment, when I ought to + have all my courage, you make me feel that I am a madman to leave you for + the sake of any cause on earth. The future to most men is but a chance of + happiness, and when they risk it they only risk a chance. In staking their + lives, they only stake a lottery ticket, which would probably draw a + blank. But my ticket has drawn a capital prize. I risk not the chance, but + the certainty, of happiness. I believe I am a fool, and if I am killed, + that will be the first thing they will say to me on the other side.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't talk of that, Phil. Oh, don't talk of being killed!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; of course not!” he exclaimed. “Don't fret about that; I shall not + be killed. I've no notion of being killed. But what a fool I am to waste + these last moments staring at you when I might be kissing you, my love, my + love!” And clasping her in his arms, he covered her face with kisses. + </p> + <p> + She began to sob convulsively. + </p> + <p> + “Don't, darling; don't! Don't make it so hard for me,” he whispered + hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do let me cry,” she wailed. “It was so hard for me to hold back all + the time we were at table. I must cry, or my heart will break. Oh, my own + dear Phil, what if I should never see you again! Oh! Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, darling,” he said, crowding down the lump that seemed like iron + in his throat, and making a desperate effort to keep his voice steady. + “You will see me again, never doubt it. Don't I tell you I am coming back? + The South cannot hold out much longer. Everybody says so. I shall be home + in a year, and then you will be my wife, to be God's Grace to me all the + rest of my life. Our happiness will be on interest till then; ten per + cent, a month at least, compound interest, piling up every day. Just think + of that, dear; don't let yourself think of anything else.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Phil, how I love you!” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck + in a passion of tenderness. “Nobody is like you. Nobody ever was. Surely + God will not part us. Surely He will not. He is too good.” + </p> + <p> + “No, dear, He will not. Some day I shall come back. It will not be long. + Perhaps I shall find you waiting for me in this same little summer-house. + Let us think of that. It was here, you know, we found out each other's + secret that day.” + </p> + <p> + “I had found out yours long before,” she said, faintly smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Time 's up, Phil.” It was Mr. Morton's voice calling to them from the + piazza. + </p> + <p> + “I must go, darling. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, not yet; not quite yet,” she wailed, clinging to him. “Why, we + have been here but a few moments. It can't be ten minutes yet.” + </p> + <p> + Under the influence of that close, passionate embrace, those clinging + kisses and mingling tears, there began to come over Philip a feeling of + weakness, of fainting courage, a disposition to cry out, “Nothing can be + so terrible as this. I will not bear it; I will not go.” By a tyrannical + effort of will, against which his whole nature cried out, he unwound her + arms from his neck and said in a choked voice:— + </p> + <p> + “Darling, this is harder than any battle I shall have to fight, but this + is what I enlisted for. I must go.” + </p> + <p> + He had reached the door of the summer-house, not daring for honor's sake + to look back, when a heartbroken cry smote his ear. + </p> + <p> + “You have n't kissed me good-by!” + </p> + <p> + He had kissed her a hundred times, but these kisses she apparently + distinguished from the good-by kiss. He came back, and taking her again in + his embrace, kissed her lips, her throat, her bosom, and then once more + their lips met, and in that kiss of parting which plucks the heart up by + the roots. + </p> + <p> + How strong must be the barrier between one soul and another that they do + not utterly merge in moments like that, turning the agony of parting to + the bliss of blended being! + </p> + <p> + Pursued by the sound of her desolate sobbing, he fled away. + </p> + <p> + The stable-boy held the dancing horse at the gate, and Mr. Morton and his + sister stood waiting there. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Phil, till we see you again,” said Miss Morton, kissing him + tenderly. “We 'll take good care of her for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you please go to her now?” he said huskily. “She is in the + summer-house. For God's sake try to comfort her.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, poor boy, I will,” she answered. He shook hands with Mr. Morton and + jumped into the buggy. + </p> + <p> + “I 'll get a furlough and be back in a few months, maybe. Be sure to tell + her that,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The stable-boy stood aside; the mettlesome horse gave a plunge and started + off at a three-minute gait. The boy drew out his watch and observed: “He + hain't got but fifteen minutes to git to camp in, but he 'll do it. The + mare 's a stepper, and Phil King knows how to handle the ribbons.” + </p> + <p> + The buggy vanished in a cloud of dust around the next turn in the road. + The stable-boy strode whistling down the street, the minister went to his + study, and Miss Morton disappeared in the shrubbery in the direction of + the summer-house. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II + </h2> + <p> + Early next morning the country roads leading into Waterville were covered + with carts and wagons and carriages loaded with people coming into town to + see the regiment off. The streets were hung with flags and spanned with + decorated arches bearing patriotic inscriptions. Bed, white, and blue + streamers hung in festoons from building to building and floated from + cornices. The stores and places of business were all closed, the sidewalks + were packed with people in their Sunday clothes, and the windows and + balconies were lined with gazers long before it was time for the regiment + to appear. Everybody—men, women, and children —wore the + national colors in cockades or rosettes, while many young girls were + dressed throughout in red, white, and blue. The city seemed tricked out + for some rare gala-day, but the grave faces of the expectant throng, and + the subdued and earnest manner which extended even to the older children, + stamped this as no ordinary holiday. + </p> + <p> + After hours of patient waiting, at last the word passes from mouth to + mouth, “They are coming!” Vehicles are quickly driven out of the way, and + in a general hush all eyes are turned towards the head of the street. + Presently there is a burst of martial music, and the regiment comes + wheeling round the corner into view and fills the wide street from curb to + curb with its broad front. As the blue river sweeps along, the rows of + polished bayonets, rising and falling with the swinging tread of the men, + are like interminable ranks of foam-crested waves rolling in upon the + shore. The imposing mass, with its rhythmic movement, gives the impression + of a single organism. One forgets to look for the individuals in it, + forgets that there are individuals. Even those who have brothers, sons, + lovers there, for a moment almost forget them in the impression of a + mighty whole. The mind is slow to realize that this great dragon, so + terrible in its beauty, emitting light as it moves from a thousand + burnished scales, with flaming crest proudly waving in the van, is but an + aggregation of men singly so feeble. + </p> + <p> + The hearts of the lookers-on as they gaze are swelling fast. An afflatus + of heroism given forth by this host of self-devoted men communicates + itself to the most stolid spectators. The booming of the drum fills the + brain, and the blood in the veins leaps to its rhythm. The unearthly + gayety of the fife, like the sweet, shrill song of a bird soaring above + the battle, infects the nerves till the idea of death brings a scornful + smile to the lips. Eyes glaze with rapturous tears as they rest upon the + flag. There is a thrill of voluptuous sweetness in the thought of dying + for it. Life seems of value only as it gives the poorest something to + sacrifice. It is dying that makes the glory of the world, and all other + employments seem but idle while the regiment passes. + </p> + <p> + The time for farewells is gone by. The lucky men at the ends of the ranks + have indeed an opportunity without breaking step to exchange an occasional + hand-shake with a friend on the sidewalk, or to snatch a kiss from wife or + sweetheart, but those in the middle of the line can only look their + farewells. Now and then a mother intrusts her baby to a file-leader to be + passed along from hand to hand till it reaches the father, to be sent back + with a kiss, or, maybe, perched aloft on his shoulder, to ride to the + depot, crowing at the music and clutching at the gleaming bayonets. At + every such touch of nature the people cheer wildly. From every window and + balcony the ladies shower garlands upon the troops. + </p> + <p> + Where is Grace? for this is the Upton company which is passing now. Yonder + she stands on a balcony, between Mr. Morton and his sister. She is very + pale and the tears are streaming down her cheeks, but her face is radiant. + She is smiling through her tears, as if there was no such thing on earth + as fear or sorrow. She has looked forward to this ordeal with harrowing + expectations, only to find herself at the trying moment seized upon and + lifted above all sense of personal affliction by the passion of + self-devotion with which the air is electric. Her face as she looks down + upon her lover is that of a priestess in the ecstasy of sacrifice. He is + saluting with his sword. Now he has passed. With a great sob she turns + away. She does not care for the rest of the pageant. Her patriotism has + suddenly gone. The ecstasy of sacrifice is over. She is no longer a + priestess, but a brokenhearted girl, who only asks to be led away to some + place where she can weep till her lover returns. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III + </h2> + <p> + There was to be a great battle the next day. The two armies had been long + manoeuvring for position, and now they stood like wrestlers who have + selected their holds and, with body braced against body, knee against + knee, wait for the signal to begin the struggle. There had been during the + afternoon some brisk fighting, but a common desire to postpone the + decisive contest till the morrow had prevented the main forces from + becoming involved. Philip's regiment had thus far only been engaged in a + few trifling skirmishes, barely enough to stir the blood. This was to be + its first battle, and the position to which it had been allotted promised + a bloody baptism in the morning. The men were in excellent heart, but as + night settled down, there was little or no merriment to be heard about the + camp-fires. Most were gathered in groups, discussing in low tones the + chances of the morrow. Some, knowing that every fibre of muscle would be + needed for the work before them, had wisely gone to sleep, while here and + there a man, heedless of the talk going on about him, was lying on his + back staring up at the darkening sky, thinking. + </p> + <p> + As the twilight deepened, Philip strolled to the top of a little knoll + just out of the camp and sat down, with a vague notion of casting up + accounts a little in view of the final settlement which very possibly + might come for him next day. But the inspiration of the scene around him + soon diverted his mind from personal engrossments. Some distance down the + lines he could see the occasional flash of a gun, where a battery was + lazily shelling a piece of woods which it was desirable to keep the enemy + from occupying during the night. A burning barn in that direction made a + flare on the sky. Over behind the wooded hills where the Confederates lay, + rockets were going up, indicating the exchange of signals and the + perfecting of plans which might mean defeat and ruin to him and his the + next day. Behind him, within the Federal lines, clouds of dust, dimly + outlined against the glimmering landscape, betrayed the location of the + roads along which artillery, cavalry, infantry were hurrying eagerly + forward to take their assigned places for the morrow's work. + </p> + <p> + Who said that men fear death? Who concocted that fable for old wives? He + should have stood that night with Philip in the midst of a host of one + hundred and twenty-five thousand men in the full flush and vigor of life, + calmly and deliberately making ready at dawn to receive death in its most + horrid forms at one another's hands. It is in vain that Religion invests + the tomb with terror, and Philosophy, shuddering, averts her face; the + nations turn from these gloomy teachers to storm its portals in exultant + hosts, battering them wide enough for thousands to charge through abreast. + The heroic instinct of humanity with its high contempt of death is wiser + and truer, never let us doubt, than superstitious terrors or philosophic + doubts. It testifies to a conviction, deeper than reason, that man is + greater than his seeming self; to an underlying consciousness that his + mortal life is but an accident of his real existence, the fashion of a + day, to be lightly worn and gayly doffed at duty's call. + </p> + <p> + What a pity it truly is that the tonic air of battlefields—the air + that Philip breathed that night before Antietam—cannot be gathered + up and preserved as a precious elixir to reinvigorate the atmosphere in + times of peace, when men grow faint of heart and cowardly, and quake at + thought of death. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers huddled in their blankets on the ground slept far more + soundly that night before the battle than their men-folk and women-folk in + their warm beds at home. For them it was a night of watching, a vigil of + prayers and tears. The telegraph in those days made of the nation an + intensely sensitive organism, with nerves a thousand miles long. Ere its + echoes had died away, every shot fired at the front had sent a tremor to + the anxious hearts at home. The newspapers and bulletin boards in all the + towns and cities of the North had announced that a great battle would + surely take place the next day, and, as the night closed in, a mighty + cloud of prayer rose from innumerable firesides, the self-same prayer from + each, that he who had gone from that home might survive the battle, + whoever else must fall. + </p> + <p> + The wife, lest her own appeal might fail, taught her cooing baby to lisp + the father's name, thinking that surely the Great Father's heart would not + be able to resist a baby's prayer. The widowed mother prayed that if it + were consistent with God's will he would spare her son. She laid her + heart, pierced through with many sorrows, before Him. She had borne so + much, life had been so hard, her boy was all she had to show for so much + endured,—might not this cup pass? Pale, impassioned maids, kneeling + by their virgin beds, wore out the night with an importunity that would + not be put off. Sure in their great love and their little knowledge that + no case could be like theirs, they beseeched God with bitter weeping for + their lovers' lives, because, forsooth, they could not bear it if hurt + came to them. The answers to many thousands of these agonizing appeals of + maid and wife and mother were already in the enemy's cartridge-boxes. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV + </h2> + <p> + The day came. The dispatches in the morning papers stated that the armies + would probably be engaged from an early hour. + </p> + <p> + Who that does not remember those battle-summers can realize from any + telling how the fathers and mothers, the wives and sisters and sweethearts + at home, lived through the days when it was known that a great battle was + going on at the front in which their loved ones were engaged? It was very + quiet in the house on those days of battle. All spoke in hushed voices and + stepped lightly. The children, too small to understand the meaning of the + shadow on the home, felt it and took their noisy sports elsewhere. There + was little conversation, except as to when definite news might be + expected. The household work dragged sadly, for though the women sought + refuge from thought in occupation, they were constantly dropping whatever + they had in hand to rush away to their chambers to face the presentiment, + perhaps suddenly borne in upon them with the force of a conviction, that + they might be called on to bear the worst. The table was set for the + regular meals, but there was little pretense of eating. The eyes of all + had a far-off expression, and they seemed barely to see one another. There + was an intent, listening look upon their faces, as if they were hearkening + to the roar of the battle a thousand miles away. + </p> + <p> + Many pictures of battles have been painted, but no true one yet, for the + pictures contain only men. The women are unaccountably left out. We ought + to see not alone the opposing lines of battle writhing and twisting in a + death, embrace, the batteries smoking and flaming, the hurricanes of + cavalry, but innumerable women also, spectral forms of mothers, wives, + sweethearts, clinging about the necks of the advancing soldiers, vainly + trying to shield them with their bosoms, extending supplicating hands to + the foe, raising eyes of anguish to Heaven. The soldiers, grim-faced, with + battle-lighted eyes, do not see the ghostly forms that throng them, but + shoot and cut and stab across and through them as if they were not there,—yes, + through them, for few are the balls and bayonets that reach their marks + without traversing some of these devoted breasts. Spectral, alas, is their + guardianship, but real are their wounds and deadly as any the combatants + receive. + </p> + <p> + Soon after breakfast on the day of the battle Grace came across to the + parsonage, her swollen eyes and pallid face telling of a sleepless night. + She could not bear her mother's company that day, for she knew that she + had never greatly liked Philip. Miss Morton was very tender and + sympathetic. Grace was a little comforted by Mr. Morton's saying that + commonly great battles did not open much before noon. It was a respite to + be able to think that probably up to that moment at least no harm had come + to Philip. In the early afternoon the minister drove into Waterville to + get the earliest bulletins at the “Banner” office, leaving the two women + alone. + </p> + <p> + The latter part of the afternoon a neighbor who had been in Waterville + drove by the house, and Miss Morton called to him to know if there were + any news yet. He drew a piece of paper from his pocket, on which he had + scribbled the latest bulletin before the “Banner” office, and read as + follows: “The battle opened with a vigorous attack by our right. The enemy + was forced back, stubbornly contesting every inch of ground. General + ———'s division is now bearing the brunt of the fight and + is suffering heavily. The result is yet uncertain.” + </p> + <p> + The division mentioned was the one in which Philip's regiment was + included. “Is suffering heavily,”—those were the words. There was + something fearful in the way the present tense brought home to Grace a + sense of the battle as then actually in progress. It meant that while she + sat there on the shady piazza with the drowsy hum of the bees in her ears, + looking out on the quiet lawn where the house cat, stretched on the grass, + kept a sleepy eye on the birds as they flitted in the branches of the + apple-trees, Philip might be facing a storm of lead and iron, or, maybe, + blent in some desperate hand-to-hand struggle, was defending his life—her + life—against murderous cut and thrust. + </p> + <p> + To begin to pray for his safety was not to dare to cease, for to cease + would be to withdraw a sort of protection—all, alas I she could give + —and abandon him to his enemies. If she had been watching over him + from above the battle, an actual witness of the carnage going on that + afternoon on the far-off field, she could scarcely have endured a more + harrowing suspense from moment to moment. Overcome with the agony, she + threw herself on the sofa in the sitting-room and lay quivering, with her + face buried in the pillow, while Miss Morton sat beside her, stroking her + hair and saying such feeble, soothing words as she might. + </p> + <p> + It is always hard, and for ardent temperaments almost impossible, to hold + the mind balanced in a state of suspense, yielding overmuch neither to + hope nor to fear, under circumstances like these. As a relief to the + torture which such a state of tension ends in causing, the mind at length, + if it cannot abandon itself to hope, embraces even despair. About five + o'clock Miss Morton was startled by an exceeding bitter cry. Grace was + sitting upon the sofa. “Oh, Miss Morton!” she cried, bursting into tears + which before she had not been able to shed, “he is dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Grace! Grace! what do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “He is dead, I know he is dead!” wailed the girl; and then she explained + that while from moment to moment she had sent up prayers for him, every + breath a cry to God, she suddenly had been unable to pray more, and this + she felt was a sign that petition for his life was now vain. Miss Morton + strove to convince her that this was but an effect of overwrought nerves, + but with slight success. + </p> + <p> + In the early evening Mr. Morton returned with the latest news the + telegraph had brought. The full scope of the result was not yet known. The + advantage had probably remained with the National forces, although the + struggle had been one of those close and stubborn ones, with scanty + laurels for the victors, to be expected when men of one race meet in + battle. The losses on both sides had been enormous, and the report was + confirmed that Philip's division had been badly cut up. + </p> + <p> + The parsonage was but one of thousands of homes in the land where no lamps + were lighted that evening, the members of the household sitting together + in the dark,—silent, or talking in low tones of the far-away + star-lighted battlefield, the anguish of the wounded, the still heaps of + the dead. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, when at last Grace went home she was less entirely + despairing than in the afternoon. Mr. Morton, in his calm, convincing way, + had shown her the groundlessness of her impression that Philip was + certainly dead, and had enabled her again to entertain hope. It no longer + rose, indeed, to the height of a belief that he had escaped wholly + scathless. In face of the terrible tidings, that would have been too + presumptuous. But perhaps he had been only wounded. Yesterday the thought + would have been insupportable, but now she was eager to make this + compromise with Providence. She was distinctly affected by the curious + superstition that if we voluntarily concede something to fate, while yet + the facts are not known, we gain a sort of equitable assurance against a + worse thing. It was settled, she told herself, that she was not to be + overcome or even surprised to hear that Philip was wounded,—slightly + wounded. She was no better than other women, that he should be wholly + spared. + </p> + <p> + The paper next morning gave many names of officers who had fallen, but + Philip's was not among them. The list was confessedly incomplete; + nevertheless, the absence of his name was reassuring. Grace went across + the garden after breakfast to talk with Miss Morton about the news and the + auspicious lack of news. Her friend's cheerful tone infused her with fresh + courage. To one who has despaired, a very little hope goes to the head Eke + wine to the brain of a faster, and, though still very tremulous, Grace + could even smile a little now and was almost cheerful. Secretly already + she was beginning to play false with fate, and, in flat repudiation of her + last night's compact, to indulge the hope that her soldier had not been + even wounded. But this was only at the bottom of her heart. She did not + own to herself that she really did it. She felt a little safer not to + break the bargain yet. + </p> + <p> + About eleven o'clock in the forenoon Mr. Morton came in. His start and + look of dismay on seeing Grace indicated that he had expected to find his + sister alone. He hastily attempted to conceal an open telegram which he + held in his hand, but it was too late. Grace had already seen it, and + whatever the tidings it might contain, there was no longer any question of + holding them back or extenuating them. Miss Morton, after one look at her + brother's face, silently came to the girl's side and put her arms around + her waist. “Christ, our Saviour,” she murmured, “for thy name's sake, help + her now.” Then the minister said:— + </p> + <p> + “Try to be brave, try to bear it worthily of him; for, my poor little + girl, your sacrifice has been accepted. He fell in a charge at the head of + his men.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V + </h2> + <p> + Philip's body was brought home for burial, and the funeral was a great + event in the village. Business of all kinds was suspended, and all the + people united in making of the day a solemn patriotic festival. Mr. Morton + preached the funeral sermon. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, talk about the country,” sobbed Grace, when he asked her if there was + anything in particular she would like him to speak of. + </p> + <p> + “For pity's sake don't let me feel sorry now that I gave him up for the + Union. Don't leave me now to think it would have been better if I had not + let him go.” + </p> + <p> + So he preached of the country, as ministers sometimes did preach in those + days, making it very plain that in a righteous cause men did well to die + for their native land and their women did well to give them up. Expounding + the lofty wisdom of self-sacrifice, he showed how truly it was said that + “whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his + life... shall find it,” and how none make such rich profit out of their + lives as the heroes who seem to throw them away. + </p> + <p> + They had come, he told the assembled people, to mourn no misadventure, no + misfortune; this dead soldier was not pitiable. He was no victim of a + tear-compelling fate. No broken shaft typified his career. He was rather + one who had done well for himself, a wise young merchant of his blood, who + having seen a way to barter his life at incredible advantage, at no less a + rate indeed than a man's for a nation's, had not let slip so great an + opportunity. + </p> + <p> + So he went on, still likening the life of a man to the wares of a + shopkeeper, worth to him only what they can be sold for and a loss if + overkept, till those who listened began to grow ill at ease in presence of + that flag-draped coffin, and were vaguely troubled because they still + lived. + </p> + <p> + Then he spoke of those who had been bereaved. This soldier, he said, like + his comrades, had staked for his country not only his own life but the + earthly happiness of others also, having been fully empowered by them to + do so. Some had staked with their own lives the happiness of parents, some + that of wives and children, others maybe the hopes of maidens pledged to + them. In offering up their lives to their country they had laid with them + upon the altar these other lives which were bound up with theirs, and the + same fire of sacrifice had consumed them both. A few days before, in the + storm of battle, those who had gone forth had fulfilled their share of the + joint sacrifice. In a thousand homes, with tears and the anguish of + breaking hearts, those who had sent them forth were that day fulfilling + theirs. Let them now in their extremity seek support in the same spirit of + patriotic devotion which had upheld their heroes in the hour of death. As + they had been lifted above fear by the thought that it was for their + country they were dying, not less should those who mourned them find + inspiration in remembering it was for the nation's sake that their tears + were shed, and for the country that their hearts were broken. It had been + appointed that half in blood of men and half in women's tears the ransom + of the people should be paid, so that their sorrow was not in vain, but + for the healing of the nation. + </p> + <p> + It behooved these, therefore, to prove worthy of their high calling of + martyrdom, and while they must needs weep, not to weep as other women + wept, with hearts bowed down, but rather with uplifted faces, adopting and + ratifying, though it might be with breaking hearts, this exchange they had + made of earthly happiness for the life of their native land. So should + they honor those they mourned, and be joined with them not only in + sacrifice but in the spirit of sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + So it was in response to the appeal of this stricken girl before him that + the minister talked of the country, and to such purpose was it that the + piteous thing she had dreaded, the feeling, now when it was forever too + late, that it would have been better if she had kept her lover back, found + no place in her heart. There was, indeed, had she known it, no danger at + all that she would be left to endure that, so long as she dreaded it, for + the only prayer that never is unanswered is the prayer to be lifted above + self. So to pray and so to wish is but to cease to resist the divine + gravitations ever pulling at the soul. As the minister discoursed of the + mystic gain of self-sacrifice, the mystery of which he spoke was fulfilled + in her heart. She appeared to stand in some place overarching life t and + death, and there was made partaker of an exultation whereof if religion + and philosophy might but catch and hold the secret, their ancient quest + were over. + </p> + <p> + Grazing through streaming eyes upon the coffin of her lover, she was able + freely to consent to the sacrifice of her own life which he had made in + giving up his own. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of An Echo Of Antietam, by Edward Bellamy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ECHO OF ANTIETAM *** + +***** This file should be named 22702-h.htm or 22702-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/7/0/22702/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: An Echo Of Antietam + 1898 + +Author: Edward Bellamy + +Release Date: September 21, 2007 [EBook #22702] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ECHO OF ANTIETAM *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +AN ECHO OF ANTIETAM + +By Edward Bellamy + +1898 + + + + +I + +The air was tremulous with farewells. The regiment, recruited within +sight of the steeples of Waterville, and for three months in camp just +outside the city, was to march the next morning. A series of great +battles had weakened the Federal armies, and the authorities at +Washington had ordered all available men to the front. + +The camp was to be broken up at an early hour, after which the regiment +would march through the city to the depot to take the cars. The streets +along the route of the march were already being decorated with flags and +garlands. The city that afternoon was full of soldiers enjoying their +last leave of absence. The liquor shops were crowded with parties of +them drinking with their friends, while others in threes and fours, with +locked arms, paraded the streets singing patriotic songs, sometimes in +rather maudlin voices, for to-day in every saloon a soldier might enter, +citizens vied for the privilege of treating him to the best in the +house. No man in a blue coat was suffered to pay for anything. + +For the most part, however, the men were sober enough over their +leave-taking. One saw everywhere soldiers and civilians, strolling in +pairs, absorbed in earnest talk. They are brothers, maybe, who have +come away from the house to be alone with each other, while they talk of +family affairs and exchange last charges and promises as to what is to +be done if anything happens. Or perhaps they are business partners, and +the one who has put the country's business before his own is giving his +last counsels as to how the store or the shop shall be managed in his +absence. Many of the blue-clad men have women with them, and these are +the couples that the people oftenest turn to look at. The girl who has +a soldier lover is the envy of her companions to-day as she walks by his +side. Her proud eyes challenge all who come, saying, "See, this is my +hero. I am the one he loves." + +You could easily tell when it was a wife and not a sweetheart whom the +soldier had with him. There was no challenge in the eyes of the wife. +Young romance shed none of its glamour on the sacrifice she was making +for her native land. It was only because they could not bear to sit any +longer looking at each other in the house that she and her husband had +come out to walk. + +In the residence parts of the town family groups were gathered on shady +piazzas, a blue-coated figure the centre of each. They were trying to +talk cheerfully, making an effort even to laugh a little. + +Now and then one of the women stole unobserved from the circle, but her +bravely smiling face as she presently returned gave no inkling of the +flood of tears that had eased her heart in some place apart. The young +soldier himself was looking a little pale and nervous with all his +affected good spirits, and it was safe to guess that he was even then +thinking how often this scene would come before him afterwards, by the +camp-fire and on the eve of battle. + +In the village of Upton, some four or five miles out of Waterville, on a +broad piazza at the side of a house on the main street, a group of four +persons were seated around a tea-table. + +The centre of interest of this group, as of so many others that day, +was a soldier. He looked not over twenty-five, with dark blue eyes, dark +hair cut close to his head, and a mustache trimmed crisply in military +fashion. His uniform set off to advantage an athletic figure of youthful +slender-ness, and his bronzed complexion told of long days of practice +on the drill-ground in the school of the company and the battalion. He +wore the shoulder-straps of a second lieutenant. + +On one side of the soldier sat the Rev. Mr. Morton, his cousin, and on +the other Miss Bertha Morton, a kindly faced, middle-aged lady, who was +her brother's housekeeper and the hostess of this occasion. + +The fourth member of the party was a girl of nineteen or twenty. She was +a very pretty girl, and although to-day her pallid cheeks and red and +swollen eyelids would to other eyes have detracted somewhat from her +charms, it was certain that they did not make her seem less adorable +to the young officer, for he was her lover, and was to march with the +regiment in the morning. + +Lieutenant Philip King was a lawyer, and by perseverance and native +ability had worked up a fair practice for so young a man in and around +Upton. When he volunteered, he had to make up his mind to leave this +carefully gathered clientage to scatter, or to be filched from him by +less patriotic rivals; but it may be well believed that this seemed to +him a little thing compared with leaving Grace Roberts, with the chance +of never returning to make her his wife. If, indeed, it had been for him +to say, he would have placed his happiness beyond hazard by marrying +her before the regiment marched; nor would she have been averse, but her +mother, an invalid widow, took a sensible rather than a sentimental view +of the case. If he were killed, she said, a wife would do him no good; +and if he came home again, Grace would be waiting for him, and that +ought to satisfy a reasonable man. It had to satisfy an unreasonable +one. The Robertses had always lived just beyond the garden from the +parsonage, and Grace, who from a little girl had been a great pet of the +childless minister and his sister, was almost as much at home there as +in her mother's house. When Philip fell in love with her, the Mortons +were delighted. They could have wished nothing better for either. From +the first Miss Morton had done all she could to make matters smooth for +the lovers, and the present little farewell banquet was but the last of +many meetings she had prepared for them at the parsonage. + +Philip had come out from camp on a three-hours' leave that afternoon, +and would have to report again at half-past seven. It was nearly that +hour now, though still light, the season being midsummer. There had been +an effort on the part of all to keep up a cheerful tone; but as the time +of the inevitable separation drew near, the conversation had been more +and more left to the minister and his sister, who, with observations +sometimes a little forced, continued to fend off silence and the +demoralization it would be likely to bring to their young friends. Grace +had been the first to drop out of the talking, and Philip's answers, +when he was addressed, grew more and more at random, as the meetings of +his eyes with his sweetheart's became more frequent and lasted longer. + +"He will be the handsomest officer in the regiment, that's one comfort. +Won't he, Grace?" said Miss Morton cheerily. + +The girl nodded and smiled faintly. Her eyes were brimming, and the +twitching of her lips from time to time betrayed how great was the +effort with which she kept her self-command. + +"Yes," said Mr. Morton; "but though he looks very well now, it is +nothing to the imposing appearance he will present when he comes back +with a colonel's shoulder-straps. You should be thinking of that, +Grace." + +"I expect we shall hear from him every day," said Miss Morton. "He will +have no excuse for not writing with all those envelopes stamped and +addressed, with blank paper in them, which Grace has given him. You +should always have three or four in your coat pocket, Phil." + +The young man nodded. + +"I suppose for the most part we shall learn of you through Grace; but +you mustn't forget us entirely, my boy," said Mr. Morton. "We shall want +to hear from you directly now and then." + +"Yes; I 'll be sure to write," Philip replied. + +"I suppose it will be time enough to see the regiment pass if we are in +our places by nine o'clock," suggested Miss Morton, after a silence. + +"I think so," said her brother. "It is a great affair to break camp, and +I don't believe the march will begin till after that time." + +"James has got us one of the windows of Ray & Seymour's offices, you +know, Philip," resumed Miss Morton; "which one did you say, James?" + +"The north one." + +"Yes, the north one," she resumed. "They say every window on Main Street +along the route of the regiment is rented. Grace will be with us, you +know. You must n't forget to look up at us as you go by--as if the +young man were likely to!" + +He was evidently not now listening to her at all. His eyes were fastened +upon the girl's opposite him, and they seemed to have quite forgotten +the others. Miss Morton and her brother exchanged compassionate glances. +Tears were in the lady's eyes. A clock in the sitting-room began to +strike: + +"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven." + +Philip started. + +"What time is that?" he asked, a little huskily. No one replied at once. +Then Mr. Morton said: + +"I am afraid it struck seven, my boy." + +"I must leave in ten minutes then," said the young man, rising from the +table. The rest followed his example. + +"I wonder if the buggy will be in time?" said he. + +"It is at the gate," replied Miss Morton. "I heard it drive up some time +ago." + +Unmindful of the others now, Philip put his arm about Grace's waist and +drew her away to the end of the piazza and thence out into the garden. + +"Poor young things," murmured Miss Morton, the tears running down her +cheeks as she looked after them. "It is pitiful, James, to see how they +suffer." + +"Yes," said the minister; "and there are a great many just such scenes +to-day. Ah, well, as St. Paul says, we see as yet but in part." + +Passing in and out among the shrubbery, and presently disappearing +from the sympathetic eyes upon the piazza, the lovers came to a little +summer-house, and there they entered. Taking her wrists in his hands, he +held her away from him, and his eyes went slowly over her from head to +foot, as if he would impress upon his mind an image that absence should +not have power to dim. + +"You are so beautiful," he said, "that in this moment, when I ought to +have all my courage, you make me feel that I am a madman to leave you +for the sake of any cause on earth. The future to most men is but a +chance of happiness, and when they risk it they only risk a chance. +In staking their lives, they only stake a lottery ticket, which would +probably draw a blank. But my ticket has drawn a capital prize. I risk +not the chance, but the certainty, of happiness. I believe I am a fool, +and if I am killed, that will be the first thing they will say to me on +the other side." + +"Don't talk of that, Phil. Oh, don't talk of being killed!" + +"No, no; of course not!" he exclaimed. "Don't fret about that; I shall +not be killed. I've no notion of being killed. But what a fool I am to +waste these last moments staring at you when I might be kissing you, my +love, my love!" And clasping her in his arms, he covered her face with +kisses. + +She began to sob convulsively. + +"Don't, darling; don't! Don't make it so hard for me," he whispered +hoarsely. + +"Oh, do let me cry," she wailed. "It was so hard for me to hold back all +the time we were at table. I must cry, or my heart will break. Oh, my +own dear Phil, what if I should never see you again! Oh! Oh!" + +"Nonsense, darling," he said, crowding down the lump that seemed like +iron in his throat, and making a desperate effort to keep his voice +steady. "You will see me again, never doubt it. Don't I tell you I am +coming back? The South cannot hold out much longer. Everybody says so. I +shall be home in a year, and then you will be my wife, to be God's Grace +to me all the rest of my life. Our happiness will be on interest till +then; ten per cent, a month at least, compound interest, piling up every +day. Just think of that, dear; don't let yourself think of anything +else." + +"Oh, Phil, how I love you!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck +in a passion of tenderness. "Nobody is like you. Nobody ever was. Surely +God will not part us. Surely He will not. He is too good." + +"No, dear, He will not. Some day I shall come back. It will not be +long. Perhaps I shall find you waiting for me in this same little +summer-house. Let us think of that. It was here, you know, we found out +each other's secret that day." + +"I had found out yours long before," she said, faintly smiling. + +"Time 's up, Phil." It was Mr. Morton's voice calling to them from the +piazza. + +"I must go, darling. Good-by." + +"Oh, no, not yet; not quite yet," she wailed, clinging to him. "Why, we +have been here but a few moments. It can't be ten minutes yet." + +Under the influence of that close, passionate embrace, those clinging +kisses and mingling tears, there began to come over Philip a feeling of +weakness, of fainting courage, a disposition to cry out, "Nothing can be +so terrible as this. I will not bear it; I will not go." By a tyrannical +effort of will, against which his whole nature cried out, he unwound her +arms from his neck and said in a choked voice:-- + +"Darling, this is harder than any battle I shall have to fight, but this +is what I enlisted for. I must go." + +He had reached the door of the summer-house, not daring for honor's sake +to look back, when a heartbroken cry smote his ear. + +"You have n't kissed me good-by!" + +He had kissed her a hundred times, but these kisses she apparently +distinguished from the good-by kiss. He came back, and taking her again +in his embrace, kissed her lips, her throat, her bosom, and then once +more their lips met, and in that kiss of parting which plucks the heart +up by the roots. + +How strong must be the barrier between one soul and another that they do +not utterly merge in moments like that, turning the agony of parting to +the bliss of blended being! + +Pursued by the sound of her desolate sobbing, he fled away. + +The stable-boy held the dancing horse at the gate, and Mr. Morton and +his sister stood waiting there. + +"Good-by, Phil, till we see you again," said Miss Morton, kissing him +tenderly. "We 'll take good care of her for you." + +"Will you please go to her now?" he said huskily. "She is in the +summer-house. For God's sake try to comfort her." + +"Yes, poor boy, I will," she answered. He shook hands with Mr. Morton +and jumped into the buggy. + +"I 'll get a furlough and be back in a few months, maybe. Be sure to +tell her that," he said. + +The stable-boy stood aside; the mettlesome horse gave a plunge and +started off at a three-minute gait. The boy drew out his watch and +observed: "He hain't got but fifteen minutes to git to camp in, but he +'ll do it. The mare 's a stepper, and Phil King knows how to handle the +ribbons." + +The buggy vanished in a cloud of dust around the next turn in the road. +The stable-boy strode whistling down the street, the minister went to +his study, and Miss Morton disappeared in the shrubbery in the direction +of the summer-house. + + + + +II + +Early next morning the country roads leading into Waterville were +covered with carts and wagons and carriages loaded with people coming +into town to see the regiment off. The streets were hung with flags +and spanned with decorated arches bearing patriotic inscriptions. Bed, +white, and blue streamers hung in festoons from building to building +and floated from cornices. The stores and places of business were all +closed, the sidewalks were packed with people in their Sunday clothes, +and the windows and balconies were lined with gazers long before it was +time for the regiment to appear. Everybody--men, women, and children +--wore the national colors in cockades or rosettes, while many young +girls were dressed throughout in red, white, and blue. The city seemed +tricked out for some rare gala-day, but the grave faces of the expectant +throng, and the subdued and earnest manner which extended even to the +older children, stamped this as no ordinary holiday. + +After hours of patient waiting, at last the word passes from mouth to +mouth, "They are coming!" Vehicles are quickly driven out of the way, +and in a general hush all eyes are turned towards the head of the +street. Presently there is a burst of martial music, and the regiment +comes wheeling round the corner into view and fills the wide street from +curb to curb with its broad front. As the blue river sweeps along, the +rows of polished bayonets, rising and falling with the swinging tread +of the men, are like interminable ranks of foam-crested waves rolling in +upon the shore. The imposing mass, with its rhythmic movement, gives the +impression of a single organism. One forgets to look for the individuals +in it, forgets that there are individuals. Even those who have brothers, +sons, lovers there, for a moment almost forget them in the impression of +a mighty whole. The mind is slow to realize that this great dragon, +so terrible in its beauty, emitting light as it moves from a thousand +burnished scales, with flaming crest proudly waving in the van, is but +an aggregation of men singly so feeble. + +The hearts of the lookers-on as they gaze are swelling fast. An afflatus +of heroism given forth by this host of self-devoted men communicates +itself to the most stolid spectators. The booming of the drum fills the +brain, and the blood in the veins leaps to its rhythm. The unearthly +gayety of the fife, like the sweet, shrill song of a bird soaring above +the battle, infects the nerves till the idea of death brings a scornful +smile to the lips. Eyes glaze with rapturous tears as they rest upon the +flag. There is a thrill of voluptuous sweetness in the thought of dying +for it. Life seems of value only as it gives the poorest something to +sacrifice. It is dying that makes the glory of the world, and all other +employments seem but idle while the regiment passes. + +The time for farewells is gone by. The lucky men at the ends of the +ranks have indeed an opportunity without breaking step to exchange an +occasional hand-shake with a friend on the sidewalk, or to snatch a kiss +from wife or sweetheart, but those in the middle of the line can only +look their farewells. Now and then a mother intrusts her baby to a +file-leader to be passed along from hand to hand till it reaches the +father, to be sent back with a kiss, or, maybe, perched aloft on his +shoulder, to ride to the depot, crowing at the music and clutching at +the gleaming bayonets. At every such touch of nature the people cheer +wildly. From every window and balcony the ladies shower garlands upon +the troops. + +Where is Grace? for this is the Upton company which is passing now. +Yonder she stands on a balcony, between Mr. Morton and his sister. She +is very pale and the tears are streaming down her cheeks, but her face +is radiant. She is smiling through her tears, as if there was no such +thing on earth as fear or sorrow. She has looked forward to this ordeal +with harrowing expectations, only to find herself at the trying moment +seized upon and lifted above all sense of personal affliction by the +passion of self-devotion with which the air is electric. Her face as +she looks down upon her lover is that of a priestess in the ecstasy +of sacrifice. He is saluting with his sword. Now he has passed. With a +great sob she turns away. She does not care for the rest of the pageant. +Her patriotism has suddenly gone. The ecstasy of sacrifice is over. She +is no longer a priestess, but a brokenhearted girl, who only asks to be +led away to some place where she can weep till her lover returns. + + + + +III + +There was to be a great battle the next day. The two armies had been +long manoeuvring for position, and now they stood like wrestlers who +have selected their holds and, with body braced against body, knee +against knee, wait for the signal to begin the struggle. There had +been during the afternoon some brisk fighting, but a common desire to +postpone the decisive contest till the morrow had prevented the main +forces from becoming involved. Philip's regiment had thus far only been +engaged in a few trifling skirmishes, barely enough to stir the blood. +This was to be its first battle, and the position to which it had been +allotted promised a bloody baptism in the morning. The men were in +excellent heart, but as night settled down, there was little or no +merriment to be heard about the camp-fires. Most were gathered in +groups, discussing in low tones the chances of the morrow. Some, knowing +that every fibre of muscle would be needed for the work before them, had +wisely gone to sleep, while here and there a man, heedless of the talk +going on about him, was lying on his back staring up at the darkening +sky, thinking. + +As the twilight deepened, Philip strolled to the top of a little knoll +just out of the camp and sat down, with a vague notion of casting up +accounts a little in view of the final settlement which very possibly +might come for him next day. But the inspiration of the scene around him +soon diverted his mind from personal engrossments. Some distance down +the lines he could see the occasional flash of a gun, where a battery +was lazily shelling a piece of woods which it was desirable to keep the +enemy from occupying during the night. A burning barn in that direction +made a flare on the sky. Over behind the wooded hills where the +Confederates lay, rockets were going up, indicating the exchange of +signals and the perfecting of plans which might mean defeat and ruin to +him and his the next day. Behind him, within the Federal lines, clouds +of dust, dimly outlined against the glimmering landscape, betrayed the +location of the roads along which artillery, cavalry, infantry were +hurrying eagerly forward to take their assigned places for the morrow's +work. + +Who said that men fear death? Who concocted that fable for old wives? He +should have stood that night with Philip in the midst of a host of one +hundred and twenty-five thousand men in the full flush and vigor of +life, calmly and deliberately making ready at dawn to receive death +in its most horrid forms at one another's hands. It is in vain that +Religion invests the tomb with terror, and Philosophy, shuddering, +averts her face; the nations turn from these gloomy teachers to storm +its portals in exultant hosts, battering them wide enough for thousands +to charge through abreast. The heroic instinct of humanity with its +high contempt of death is wiser and truer, never let us doubt, +than superstitious terrors or philosophic doubts. It testifies to a +conviction, deeper than reason, that man is greater than his seeming +self; to an underlying consciousness that his mortal life is but an +accident of his real existence, the fashion of a day, to be lightly worn +and gayly doffed at duty's call. + +What a pity it truly is that the tonic air of battlefields--the air +that Philip breathed that night before Antietam--cannot be gathered +up and preserved as a precious elixir to reinvigorate the atmosphere in +times of peace, when men grow faint of heart and cowardly, and quake at +thought of death. + +The soldiers huddled in their blankets on the ground slept far more +soundly that night before the battle than their men-folk and women-folk +in their warm beds at home. For them it was a night of watching, a vigil +of prayers and tears. The telegraph in those days made of the nation an +intensely sensitive organism, with nerves a thousand miles long. Ere its +echoes had died away, every shot fired at the front had sent a tremor +to the anxious hearts at home. The newspapers and bulletin boards in +all the towns and cities of the North had announced that a great battle +would surely take place the next day, and, as the night closed in, a +mighty cloud of prayer rose from innumerable firesides, the self-same +prayer from each, that he who had gone from that home might survive the +battle, whoever else must fall. + +The wife, lest her own appeal might fail, taught her cooing baby to lisp +the father's name, thinking that surely the Great Father's heart would +not be able to resist a baby's prayer. The widowed mother prayed that if +it were consistent with God's will he would spare her son. She laid her +heart, pierced through with many sorrows, before Him. She had borne so +much, life had been so hard, her boy was all she had to show for so much +endured,--might not this cup pass? Pale, impassioned maids, kneeling +by their virgin beds, wore out the night with an importunity that would +not be put off. Sure in their great love and their little knowledge that +no case could be like theirs, they beseeched God with bitter weeping +for their lovers' lives, because, forsooth, they could not bear it if +hurt came to them. The answers to many thousands of these agonizing +appeals of maid and wife and mother were already in the enemy's +cartridge-boxes. + + + + +IV + +The day came. The dispatches in the morning papers stated that the +armies would probably be engaged from an early hour. + +Who that does not remember those battle-summers can realize from +any telling how the fathers and mothers, the wives and sisters and +sweethearts at home, lived through the days when it was known that a +great battle was going on at the front in which their loved ones were +engaged? It was very quiet in the house on those days of battle. All +spoke in hushed voices and stepped lightly. The children, too small to +understand the meaning of the shadow on the home, felt it and took their +noisy sports elsewhere. There was little conversation, except as to when +definite news might be expected. The household work dragged sadly, for +though the women sought refuge from thought in occupation, they were +constantly dropping whatever they had in hand to rush away to their +chambers to face the presentiment, perhaps suddenly borne in upon them +with the force of a conviction, that they might be called on to bear +the worst. The table was set for the regular meals, but there was little +pretense of eating. The eyes of all had a far-off expression, and they +seemed barely to see one another. There was an intent, listening look +upon their faces, as if they were hearkening to the roar of the battle a +thousand miles away. + +Many pictures of battles have been painted, but no true one yet, for +the pictures contain only men. The women are unaccountably left out. +We ought to see not alone the opposing lines of battle writhing and +twisting in a death, embrace, the batteries smoking and flaming, the +hurricanes of cavalry, but innumerable women also, spectral forms of +mothers, wives, sweethearts, clinging about the necks of the advancing +soldiers, vainly trying to shield them with their bosoms, extending +supplicating hands to the foe, raising eyes of anguish to Heaven. The +soldiers, grim-faced, with battle-lighted eyes, do not see the ghostly +forms that throng them, but shoot and cut and stab across and through +them as if they were not there,--yes, through them, for few are the +balls and bayonets that reach their marks without traversing some of +these devoted breasts. Spectral, alas, is their guardianship, but real +are their wounds and deadly as any the combatants receive. + +Soon after breakfast on the day of the battle Grace came across to +the parsonage, her swollen eyes and pallid face telling of a sleepless +night. She could not bear her mother's company that day, for she knew +that she had never greatly liked Philip. Miss Morton was very tender and +sympathetic. Grace was a little comforted by Mr. Morton's saying that +commonly great battles did not open much before noon. It was a respite +to be able to think that probably up to that moment at least no harm +had come to Philip. In the early afternoon the minister drove into +Waterville to get the earliest bulletins at the "Banner" office, leaving +the two women alone. + +The latter part of the afternoon a neighbor who had been in Waterville +drove by the house, and Miss Morton called to him to know if there were +any news yet. He drew a piece of paper from his pocket, on which he had +scribbled the latest bulletin before the "Banner" office, and read as +follows: "The battle opened with a vigorous attack by our right. The +enemy was forced back, stubbornly contesting every inch of ground. +General ------'s division is now bearing the brunt of the fight and is +suffering heavily. The result is yet uncertain." + +The division mentioned was the one in which Philip's regiment was +included. "Is suffering heavily,"--those were the words. There was +something fearful in the way the present tense brought home to Grace a +sense of the battle as then actually in progress. It meant that while +she sat there on the shady piazza with the drowsy hum of the bees in her +ears, looking out on the quiet lawn where the house cat, stretched +on the grass, kept a sleepy eye on the birds as they flitted in the +branches of the apple-trees, Philip might be facing a storm of lead +and iron, or, maybe, blent in some desperate hand-to-hand struggle, was +defending his life--her life--against murderous cut and thrust. + +To begin to pray for his safety was not to dare to cease, for to cease +would be to withdraw a sort of protection--all, alas I she could give +--and abandon him to his enemies. If she had been watching over him +from above the battle, an actual witness of the carnage going on that +afternoon on the far-off field, she could scarcely have endured a more +harrowing suspense from moment to moment. Overcome with the agony, she +threw herself on the sofa in the sitting-room and lay quivering, +with her face buried in the pillow, while Miss Morton sat beside her, +stroking her hair and saying such feeble, soothing words as she might. + +It is always hard, and for ardent temperaments almost impossible, to +hold the mind balanced in a state of suspense, yielding overmuch neither +to hope nor to fear, under circumstances like these. As a relief to +the torture which such a state of tension ends in causing, the mind +at length, if it cannot abandon itself to hope, embraces even despair. +About five o'clock Miss Morton was startled by an exceeding bitter cry. +Grace was sitting upon the sofa. "Oh, Miss Morton!" she cried, bursting +into tears which before she had not been able to shed, "he is dead!" + +"Grace! Grace! what do you mean?" + +"He is dead, I know he is dead!" wailed the girl; and then she explained +that while from moment to moment she had sent up prayers for him, every +breath a cry to God, she suddenly had been unable to pray more, and this +she felt was a sign that petition for his life was now vain. Miss +Morton strove to convince her that this was but an effect of overwrought +nerves, but with slight success. + +In the early evening Mr. Morton returned with the latest news the +telegraph had brought. The full scope of the result was not yet known. +The advantage had probably remained with the National forces, although +the struggle had been one of those close and stubborn ones, with scanty +laurels for the victors, to be expected when men of one race meet in +battle. The losses on both sides had been enormous, and the report was +confirmed that Philip's division had been badly cut up. + +The parsonage was but one of thousands of homes in the land where no +lamps were lighted that evening, the members of the household sitting +together in the dark,--silent, or talking in low tones of the far-away +star-lighted battlefield, the anguish of the wounded, the still heaps of +the dead. + +Nevertheless, when at last Grace went home she was less entirely +despairing than in the afternoon. Mr. Morton, in his calm, convincing +way, had shown her the groundlessness of her impression that Philip +was certainly dead, and had enabled her again to entertain hope. It +no longer rose, indeed, to the height of a belief that he had escaped +wholly scathless. In face of the terrible tidings, that would have been +too presumptuous. But perhaps he had been only wounded. Yesterday the +thought would have been insupportable, but now she was eager to make +this compromise with Providence. She was distinctly affected by the +curious superstition that if we voluntarily concede something to fate, +while yet the facts are not known, we gain a sort of equitable assurance +against a worse thing. It was settled, she told herself, that she +was not to be overcome or even surprised to hear that Philip was +wounded,--slightly wounded. She was no better than other women, that he +should be wholly spared. + +The paper next morning gave many names of officers who had fallen, +but Philip's was not among them. The list was confessedly incomplete; +nevertheless, the absence of his name was reassuring. Grace went across +the garden after breakfast to talk with Miss Morton about the news and +the auspicious lack of news. Her friend's cheerful tone infused her with +fresh courage. To one who has despaired, a very little hope goes to +the head Eke wine to the brain of a faster, and, though still very +tremulous, Grace could even smile a little now and was almost cheerful. +Secretly already she was beginning to play false with fate, and, in flat +repudiation of her last night's compact, to indulge the hope that her +soldier had not been even wounded. But this was only at the bottom of +her heart. She did not own to herself that she really did it. She felt a +little safer not to break the bargain yet. + +About eleven o'clock in the forenoon Mr. Morton came in. His start and +look of dismay on seeing Grace indicated that he had expected to find +his sister alone. He hastily attempted to conceal an open telegram which +he held in his hand, but it was too late. Grace had already seen it, and +whatever the tidings it might contain, there was no longer any question +of holding them back or extenuating them. Miss Morton, after one look +at her brother's face, silently came to the girl's side and put her arms +around her waist. "Christ, our Saviour," she murmured, "for thy name's +sake, help her now." Then the minister said:-- + +"Try to be brave, try to bear it worthily of him; for, my poor little +girl, your sacrifice has been accepted. He fell in a charge at the head +of his men." + + + + +V + +Philip's body was brought home for burial, and the funeral was a great +event in the village. Business of all kinds was suspended, and all the +people united in making of the day a solemn patriotic festival. Mr. +Morton preached the funeral sermon. + +"Oh, talk about the country," sobbed Grace, when he asked her if there +was anything in particular she would like him to speak of. + +"For pity's sake don't let me feel sorry now that I gave him up for the +Union. Don't leave me now to think it would have been better if I had +not let him go." + +So he preached of the country, as ministers sometimes did preach in +those days, making it very plain that in a righteous cause men did well +to die for their native land and their women did well to give them up. +Expounding the lofty wisdom of self-sacrifice, he showed how truly it +was said that "whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever +will lose his life... shall find it," and how none make such rich profit +out of their lives as the heroes who seem to throw them away. + +They had come, he told the assembled people, to mourn no misadventure, +no misfortune; this dead soldier was not pitiable. He was no victim of a +tear-compelling fate. No broken shaft typified his career. He was rather +one who had done well for himself, a wise young merchant of his blood, +who having seen a way to barter his life at incredible advantage, at +no less a rate indeed than a man's for a nation's, had not let slip so +great an opportunity. + +So he went on, still likening the life of a man to the wares of a +shopkeeper, worth to him only what they can be sold for and a loss if +overkept, till those who listened began to grow ill at ease in presence +of that flag-draped coffin, and were vaguely troubled because they still +lived. + +Then he spoke of those who had been bereaved. This soldier, he said, +like his comrades, had staked for his country not only his own life but +the earthly happiness of others also, having been fully empowered by +them to do so. Some had staked with their own lives the happiness of +parents, some that of wives and children, others maybe the hopes of +maidens pledged to them. In offering up their lives to their country +they had laid with them upon the altar these other lives which were +bound up with theirs, and the same fire of sacrifice had consumed them +both. A few days before, in the storm of battle, those who had gone +forth had fulfilled their share of the joint sacrifice. In a thousand +homes, with tears and the anguish of breaking hearts, those who had +sent them forth were that day fulfilling theirs. Let them now in their +extremity seek support in the same spirit of patriotic devotion which +had upheld their heroes in the hour of death. As they had been lifted +above fear by the thought that it was for their country they were dying, +not less should those who mourned them find inspiration in remembering +it was for the nation's sake that their tears were shed, and for the +country that their hearts were broken. It had been appointed that half +in blood of men and half in women's tears the ransom of the people +should be paid, so that their sorrow was not in vain, but for the +healing of the nation. + +It behooved these, therefore, to prove worthy of their high calling of +martyrdom, and while they must needs weep, not to weep as other women +wept, with hearts bowed down, but rather with uplifted faces, adopting +and ratifying, though it might be with breaking hearts, this exchange +they had made of earthly happiness for the life of their native land. So +should they honor those they mourned, and be joined with them not only +in sacrifice but in the spirit of sacrifice. + +So it was in response to the appeal of this stricken girl before him +that the minister talked of the country, and to such purpose was it that +the piteous thing she had dreaded, the feeling, now when it was forever +too late, that it would have been better if she had kept her lover back, +found no place in her heart. There was, indeed, had she known it, no +danger at all that she would be left to endure that, so long as she +dreaded it, for the only prayer that never is unanswered is the prayer +to be lifted above self. So to pray and so to wish is but to cease to +resist the divine gravitations ever pulling at the soul. As the minister +discoursed of the mystic gain of self-sacrifice, the mystery of which +he spoke was fulfilled in her heart. She appeared to stand in some +place overarching life t and death, and there was made partaker of an +exultation whereof if religion and philosophy might but catch and hold +the secret, their ancient quest were over. + +Grazing through streaming eyes upon the coffin of her lover, she was +able freely to consent to the sacrifice of her own life which he had +made in giving up his own. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of An Echo Of Antietam, by Edward Bellamy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN ECHO OF ANTIETAM *** + +***** This file should be named 22702.txt or 22702.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/7/0/22702/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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