The Crisis — Complete

  CHAPTER II. NEWS FROM CLARENCE

  The epithet aristocrat may become odious and fatal on the banks of theMississippi as it was on the banks of the Seine. Let no man deceivehimself! These are fearful times. Thousands of our population, by thesudden stoppage of business, are thrown out of employment. When gauntfamine intrudes upon their household, it is but natural that they shouldinquire the cause. Hunger began the French Revolution.

  Virginia did not read this editorial, because it appeared in thatabhorred organ of the Mudsills, the 'Missouri Democrat.' The wheels offortune were turning rapidly that first hot summer of the war time. Letus be thankful that our flesh and blood are incapable of the fury ofthe guillotine. But when we think calmly of those days, can we escapewithout a little pity for the aristocrats? Do you think that many ofthem did not know hunger and want long before that cruel war was over?

  How bravely they met the grim spectre which crept so insidiously intotheir homes!

  "Virginia, child." said Mrs. Colfax, peevishly, one morning as theysat at breakfast, "why do you persist it wearing that old gown? It hasgotten on my nerves, my dear. You really must have something new made,even if there are no men here to dress for."

  "Aunt Lillian, you must not say such things. I do not think that I everdressed to please men."

  "Tut, tut; my dear, we all do. I did, even after married your uncle. Itis natural. We must not go shabby in such times as these, or be out offashion, Did you know that Prince Napoleon was actually coming here fora visit this autumn? We must be ready for him. I am having a fitting atMiss Elder's to-day."

  Virginia was learning patience. She did not reply as she poured out heraunt's coffee.

  "Jinny," said that lady, "come with me to Elder's, and I will give yousome gowns. If Comyn had been as careful of his own money as of mine,you could dress decently."

  "I think I do dress decently, Aunt Lillian," answered the girl. "I donot need the gowns. Give me the money you intend to pay for them, and Ican use it for a better purpose."

  Mrs. Colfax arranged her lace pettishly.

  "I am sick and tired of this superiority, Jinny." And in the samebreath. "What would you do with it?"

  Virginia lowered her voice. "Hodges goes through the lines to-morrownight. I should send it to Clarence." "But you have no idea whereClarence is."

  "Hodges can find him."

  "Pshaw!" exclaimed her aunt, "I would not trust him. How do you knowthat he will get through the Dutch pickets to Price's army? Wasn'tSouther captured last week, and that rash letter of Puss Russell'sto Jack Brinsmade published in the Democrat?" She laughed at therecollection, and Virginia was fain to laugh too. "Puss hasn't beenaround much since. I hope that will cure her of saying what she thinksof people."

  "It won't," said Virginia.

  "I'll save my money until Price drives the Yankees from the state, andClarence marches into the city at the head of a regiment," Mrs. Colfaxwent on, "It won't be long now."

  Virginia's eyes flashed.

  "Oh, you can't have read the papers. And don't you remember the letterMaude had from George? They need the bare necessities of life, AuntLillian. And half of Price's men have no arms at all."

  "Jackson," said Mrs. Colfax, "bring me a newspaper. Is there any newsto-day?"

  "No," answered Virginia, quickly. "All we know is that Lyon has leftSpringfield to meet our troops, and that a great battle is coming,Perhaps--perhaps it is being fought to-day."

  Mrs. Colfax burst into tears, "Oh, Jinny," she cried, "how can you be socruel!"

  That very evening a man, tall and lean, but with the shrewd and kindlyeye of a scout, came into the sitting-room with the Colonel and handeda letter to Mrs. Colfax. In the hall he slipped into Virginia's handanother, in a "Jefferson Davis" envelope, and she thrust it in hergown--the girl was on fire as he whispered in her ear that he had seenClarence, and that he was well. In two days an answer might be leftat Mr. Russell's house. But she must be careful what she wrote, as theYankee scouts were active.

  Clarence, indeed, had proven himself a man. Glory and uniform becamehim well, but danger and deprivation better. The words he had written,careless and frank and boyish, made Virginia's heart leap with pride.Mrs. Colfax's letter began with the adventure below the Arsenal, whenthe frail skiff had sunk near the island, He told how he had heard thecaptain of his escort sing out to him in the darkness, and how he hadfloated down the current instead, until, chilled and weary, he hadcontrived to seize the branches of a huge tree floating by. And how by amiracle the moon had risen. When the great Memphis packet bore down uponhim, he had, been seen from her guards, and rescued and made much of;and set ashore at the next landing, for fear her captain would get intotrouble. In the morning he had walked into the country, first providinghimself with butternuts and rawhide boots and a bowie-knife. Virginiawould never have recognized her dashing captain of dragoons in thisguise.

  The letter was long for Clarence, and written under great difficultiesfrom date to date. For nearly a month he had tramped over mountainsand across river bottoms, waiting for news of an organized force ofresistance in Missouri. Begging his way from cabin to cabin, and livingon greasy bacon and corn pone, at length he crossed the swift Gasconade(so named by the French settlers because of its brawling ways) wherethe bridge of the Pacific railroad had been blown up by the Governor'sorders. Then he learned that the untiring Lyon had steamed up theMissouri and had taken possession of Jefferson City without a blow, andthat the ragged rebel force had fought and lost at Booneville. Footsore,but undaunted, he pushed on to join the army, which he heard wasretreating southward along the western tier of counties of the state.

  On the banks of the Osage he fell in with two other young amen in as bada plight as himself. They travelled together, until one day some roughfarmers with shotguns leaped out of a bunch of willows on the bordersof a creek and arrested all three for Union spies. And they laughed whenMr. Clarence tried to explain that he had not long since been the dappercaptain of the State Dragoons.

  His Excellency, the Governor of Missouri (so acknowledged by all goodSoutherners), likewise laughed when Mr. Colfax and the two others werebrought before him. His Excellency sat in a cabin surrounded by a campwhich had caused the dogs of war to howl for very shame.

  "Colfax!" cried the Governor. "A Colfax of St. Louis in butternuts andrawhide boots?"

  "Give me a razor," demanded Clarence, with indignation, "a razor and asuit of clothes, and I will prove it." The Governor laughed once more.

  "A razor, young man! A suit of clothes You know not what you ask."

  "Are there any gentlemen from St. Louis here?" George Catherwood wasbrought in,--or rather what had once been George. Now he was a bigfrontiersman with a huge blond beard, and a bowie, knife stuck intohis trousers in place of a sword. He recognized his young captain ofdragoons the Governor apologized, and Clarence slept that night in thecabin. The next day he was given a horse, and a bright new rifle whichthe Governor's soldiers had taken from the Dutch at Cole Camp on the waysouth, And presently they made a junction with three thousand more whowere their images. This was Price's army, but Price had gone ahead intoKansas to beg the great McCulloch and his Confederates to come to theiraid and save the state.

  "Dear mother, I wish that you and Jinny and Uncle Comyn could have seen this country rabble. How you would have laughed, and cried, because we are just like them. In the combined army two thousand have only bowie-knives or clubs. Some have long rifles of Daniel Boone's time, not fired for thirty years. And the impedimenta are a sight. Open wagons and conestogas and carryalls and buggies, and even barouches, weighted down with frying-pans and chairs and feather beds. But we've got spirit, and we can whip Lyon's Dutchmen and Yankees just as we are. Spirit is what counts, and the Yankees haven't got it, I was made to-day a Captain of Cavalry under Colonel Rives. I ride a great, raw-boned horse like an elephant. He jolts me until I am sore,--not quite as easy as my thoroughbred, Jefferson. Tell Jinny to care for him, and have
him ready when we march into St. Louis."

  "COWSKIN PRAIRIE, 9th July.

  "We have whipped Sigel on the prairie by Coon Creek and killed--we don't know how many. Tell Maude that George distinguished himself in the fight. We cavalry did not get a chance.

  "We have at last met McCulloch and his real soldiers. We cheered until we cried when we saw their ranks of gray, with the gold buttons and the gold braid and the gold stars. General McCulloch has taken me on his staff, and promised me a uniform. But how to clothe and feed and arm our men! We have only a few poor cattle, and no money. But our men don't complain. We shall whip the Yankees before we starve."

  For many days Mrs. Colfax did not cease to bewail the hardship whichher dear boy was forced to endure. He, who was used to linen sheets andeider down, was without rough blanket or shelter; who was used to thebest table in the state, was reduced to husks.

  "But, Aunt Lillian," cried Virginia, "he is fighting for the South. Ifhe were fed and clothed like the Yankees, we should not be half so proudof him."

  Why set down for colder gaze the burning words that Clarence wrote toVirginia. How she pored over that letter, and folded it so that eventhe candle-droppings would not be creased and fall away! He was happy,though wretched because he could not see her. It was the life he hadlonged for. At last (and most pathetic!) he was proving his usefulnessin this world. He was no longer the mere idler whom she had chidden.

  "Jinny, do you remember saying so many years ago that our ruin would come of our not being able to work? How I wish you could see us felling trees to make bullet-moulds, and forging slugs for canister, and making cartridges at night with our bayonets as candlesticks. Jinny dear, I know that you will keep up your courage. I can see you sewing for us, I can hear you praying for us."

  It was, in truth, how Virginia learned to sew. She had always detestedit. Her fingers were pricked and sore weeks after she began. Sadto relate, her bandages, shirts, and havelocks never reached thefront,--those havelocks, to withstand the heat of the tropic sun, whichwere made in thousands by devoted Union women that first summer of thewar, to be ridiculed as nightcaps by the soldiers.

  "Why should not our soldiers have them, too?" said Virginia to theRussell girls. They were never so happy as when sewing on them againstthe arrival of the Army of Liberation, which never came.

  The long, long days of heat dragged slowly, with little to cheer thosefamilies separated from their dear ones by a great army. Clarence mightdie, and a month--perhaps a year--pass without news, unless he werebrought a prisoner to St. Louis. How Virginia envied Maude because theUnion lists of dead and wounded would give her tidings of her brotherTom, at least! How she coveted the many Union families, whose sons andbrothers were at the front, this privilege!

  We were speaking of the French Revolution, when, as Balzac remarked, tobe a spy was to be a patriot. Heads are not so cheap in our Anglo-Saxoncountries; passions not so fierce and uncontrollable. Compare, with aprominent historian, our Boston Massacre and St. Bartholomew.

  They are both massacres. Compare Camp Jackson, or Baltimore, where afew people were shot, with some Paris street scenes after the Bastille.Feelings in each instance never ran higher. Our own provost marshal washissed in the street, and called "Robespierre," and yet he did not fearthe assassin's knife. Our own Southern aristocrats were hemmed in ina Union city (their own city). No women were thrown into prison, it istrue. Yet one was not permitted to shout for Jeff Davis on the streetcorner before the provost's guard. Once in a while a detachment ofthe Home Guards, commanded by a lieutenant; would march swiftly into astreet and stop before a house, whose occupants would run to the rear,only to encounter another detachment in the alley.

  One day, in great excitement, Eugenie Renault rang the bell of theCarvel house, and ran past the astounded Jackson up the stairs toVirginia's room, the door of which she burst open.

  "Oh, Jinny!" she cried, "Puss Russell's house is surrounded by Yankees,and Puss and Emily and all the family are prisoners!"

  "Prisoners! What for?" said Virginia, dropping in her excitement herlast year's bonnet, which she was trimming with red, white, and red.

  "Because," said Eugenie, sputtering with indignation "because they wavedat some of our poor fellows who were being taken to the slave pen. Theywere being marched past Mr. Russell's house under guard--Puss had asmall--"

  "Confederate flag," put in Virginia, smiling in spite of herself.

  "And she waved it between the shutters," Eugenie continued. "And someone told, the provost marshal. He has had the house surrounded, and thefamily have to stay there."

  "But if the food gives out?"

  "Then," said Miss Renault, in a voice of awe, "then each one of thefamily is to have just a common army ration. They are to be treated asprisoners."

  "Oh, those Yankees are detestable!" exclaimed Virginia. "But they shallpay for it. As soon as our army is organized and equipped, they shallpay for it ten times over." She tried on the bonnet, conspicuous withits red and white ribbons, before the glass. Then she ran to the closetand drew forth the white gown with its red trimmings. "Wait for me,Genie," she said, "and we'll go down to Puss's house together. It maycheer her to see us."

  "But not in that dress," said Eugenie, aghast. "They will arrest you.""Oh, how I wish they would!" cried Virginia. And her eyes flashed sothat Eugenie was frightened. "How I wish they would!"

  Miss Renault regarded her friend with something of adoration frombeneath her black lashes. It was about five in the afternoon when theystarted out together under Virginia's white parasol, Eugenie's slimmercourage upheld by her friend's bearing. We must remember thatVirginia was young, and that her feelings were akin to those ourgreat-grandmothers experienced when the British held New York. It wasas if she had been born to wear the red and white of the South. Elderlygentlemen of Northern persuasion paused in their homeward walk to smilein admiration,--some sadly, as Mr. Brinsmade. Young gentlemen found anexcuse to retrace their steps a block or two. But Virginia walked onair, and saw nothing. She was between fierce anger and exaltation. Shedid not deign to drop her eyes as low as the citizen sergeant and guardin front of Puss Russell's house (these men were only human, after all);she did not so much as glance at the curious people standing on thecorner, who could not resist a murmur of delight. The citizen sergeantonly smiled, and made no move to arrest the young lady in red and white.Nor did Puss fling open the blinds and wave at her.

  "I suppose its because Mr. Russell won't let her," said Virginia,disconsolately, "Genie, let's go to headquarters, and show this YankeeGeneral Fremont that we are not afraid of him."

  Eugenie's breath was taken away by the very boldness of thisproposition.. She looked up timidly into Virginia's face, andhero-worship got the better of prudence.

  The house which General Fremont appropriated for his use when he cameback from Europe to assume command in the West was not a modest one. Itstill stands, a large mansion of brick with a stone front, very tall andvery wide, with an elaborate cornice and plate-glass windows, both talland broad, and a high basement. Two stately stone porches capped byelaborate iron railings adorn it in front and on the side. The chimneysare generous and proportional. In short, the house is of that type builtby many wealthy gentlemen in the middle of the century, which has beststood the test of time,--the only type which, if repeated to-day, wouldnot clash with the architectural education which we are receiving. Aspacious yard well above the pavement surrounds it, sustained by a wallof dressed stones, capped by an iron fence. The whole expressed wealth,security, solidity, conservatism. Alas, that the coal deposits underthe black mud of our Western states should, at length, have driventhe owners of these houses out of them! They are now blackened, almostburied in soot; empty, or half-tenanted by boarders, Descendants of theold families pass them on their way to business or to the theatre witha sigh. The sons of those who owned them have built westward, andwest-ward again, until now they are six miles from the river.
r />   On that summer evening forty years ago, when Virginia and Eugenie camein sight of the house, a scene of great animation was before them. Talkwas rife over the commanding general's pomp and circumstance. He hadjust returned from Europe, where pomp and circumstance and the militarywere wedded. Foreign officers should come to America to teach ourarmy dress and manners. A dashing Hungarian commanded the general'sbody-guard, which honorable corps was even then drawn up in the streetbefore the house, surrounded at a respectable distance by a crowdthat feared to jest. They felt like it save when they caught the sternmilitary eye of the Hungarian captain. Virginia gazed at the glitteringuniforms, resplendent in the sun, and at the sleek and well-fed horses,and scalding tears came as she thought of the half-starved rabble ofSouthern patriots on the burning prairies. Just then a sharp commandescaped in broken English from the Hungarian. The people in the yard ofthe mansion parted, and the General himself walked proudly out of thegate to the curb, where his charger was pawing the gutter. As he putfoot to the stirrup, the eye of the great man (once candidate, and againto be, for President) caught the glint of red and white on the corner.For an instant he stood transfixed to the spot, with one leg in the air.Then he took it down again and spoke to a young officer of his staff,who smiled and began to walk toward them. Little Eugenie's kneestrembled. She seized Virginia's arm, and whispered in agony.

  "Oh, Jinny, you are to be arrested, after all. Oh, I wish you hadn'tbeen so bold!"

  "Hush," said Virginia, as she prepared to slay the young officer witha look. She felt like flying at his throat, and choking him for theinsolence of that smile. How dare he march undaunted to within six pacesof those eyes? The crowd drew back, But did Miss Carvel retreat? Not astep. "Oh, I hope he will arrest me," she said passionately, to Eugenie."He will start a conflagration beyond the power of any Yankee to quell."

  But hush! he was speaking. "You are my prisoners"? No, those were notthe words, surely. The lieutenant had taken off his cap. He bowed verylow and said:

  "Ladies, the General's compliments, and he begs that this much of thesidewalk may be kept clear for a few moments."

  What was left for them, after that, save a retreat? But he was notprecipitate. Miss Virginia crossed the street with a dignity and bearingwhich drew even the eyes of the body-guard to one side. And there shestood haughtily until the guard and the General had thundered away. Acrowd of black-coated civilians, and quartermasters and other officersin uniform, poured out of the basement of the house into the yards. Onecivilian, a youngish man a little inclined to stoutness, stopped at thegate, stared, then thrust some papers in his pocket and hurried downthe side street. Three blocks thence he appeared abreast of Miss Carvel.More remarkable still, he lifted his hat clear of his head. Virginiadrew back. Mr. Hopper, with his newly acquired equanimity and poise,startled her.

  "May I have the pleasure," said that gentleman, "of accompanying youhome?"

  Eugenie giggled, Virginia was more annoyed than she showed.

  "You must not come out of your way," she said. Then she added. "I amsure you must go back to the store. It is only six o'clock."

  Had Virginia but known, this occasional tartness in her speech gaveEliphalet an infinite delight, even while it hurt him. His was a naturewhich liked to gloat over a goal on the horizon He cared not a whit forsweet girls; they cloyed. But a real lady was something to attain. Hehad revised his vocabulary for just such an occasion, and thrown outsome of the vernacular.

  "Business is not so pressing nowadays, Miss Carvel," he answered, with ashade of meaning.

  "Then existence must be rather heavy for you," she said. She madeno attempt to introduce him to Eugenie. "If we should have any morevictories like Bull Run, prosperity will come back with a rush," saidthe son of Massachusetts. "Southern Confederacy, with Missouri one ofits stars an industrial development of the South--fortunes in cotton."

  Virginia turned quickly, "Oh, how dare you?" she cried. "How dare youspeak flippantly of such things?" His suavity was far from overthrown.

  "Flippantly Miss Carvel?" said he. "I assure you that I want to see theSouth win." What he did not know was that words seldom convince women.But he added something which reduced her incredulity for the time. "Doyou cal'late," said he,--that I could work for your father, and wishruin to his country?"

  "But you are a Yankee born," she exclaimed.

  "There be a few sane Yankees," replied Mr. Hopper, dryly. A remarkwhich made Eugenie laugh outright, and Virginia could not refrain from asmile.

  But much against her will he walked home with her. She was indignant bythe time she reached Locust Street. He had never dared do such a thingbefore, What had got into the man? Was it because he had becomea manager, and governed the business during her father's frequentabsences? No matter what Mr. Hopper's politics, he would always be toher a low-born Yankee, a person wholly unworthy of notice.

  At the corner of Olive Street, a young man walking with long stridesalmost bumped into them. He paused looked back, and bowed as ifuncertain of an acknowledgment. Virginia barely returned his bow. He hadbeen very close to her, and she had had time to notice that his coat wasthreadbare. When she looked again, he had covered half the block.Why should she care if Stephen Brice had seen her in company with Mr.Hopper? Eliphalet, too, had seen Stephen, and this had added zest to hisenjoyment. It was part of the fruits of his reward. He wished in thatshort walk that he might meet Mr. Cluyme and Belle, and every man andwoman and child in the city whom he knew. From time to time he glancedat the severe profile of the aristocrat beside him (he had to look up abit, likewise), and that look set him down among the beasts of prey.For she was his rightful prey, and he meant not to lose one tittle ofenjoyment in the progress of the game. Many and many a night in the barelittle back room at Miss Crane's, Eliphalet had gloated over the veryevent which was now come to pass. Not a step of the way but what he hadlived through before.

  The future is laid open to such men as he. Since he had first seen theblack cloud of war rolling up from the South, a hundred times had herehearsed the scene with Colonel Carvel which had actually taken placea week before. A hundred times had he prepared his speech and manner forthis first appearance in public with Virginia after he had forced theright to walk in her company. The words he had prepared--commonplace, tobe sure, but carefully chosen--flowed from his lips in a continual nasalstream. The girl answered absently, her feminine instinct groping aftera reason for it all. She brightened when she saw her father at thedoors and, saying good by to Eugenie, tripped up the steps, bowing toEliphalet coldly.

  "Why, bless us, Jinny," said the Colonel, "you haven't been parading thetown in that costume! You'll have us in Lynch's slave pen by to-morrownight. My land!" laughed he, patting her under the chin, "there's nodoubt about your sentiments, anyhow."

  "I've been over to Puss Russell's house," said she, breathless. "They'veclosed it up, you know--" (He nodded.) "And then we went--Eugenie and I,to headquarters, just to see what the Yankees would do."

  The Colonel's smile faded. He looked grave. "You must take care, honey,"he said, lowering his voice. "They suspect me now of communicating withthe Governor and McCulloch. Jinny, it's all very well to be brave, andto stand by your colors. But this sort of thing," said he, stroking thegown, "this sort of thing doesn't help the South, my dear, and onlysets spies upon us. Ned tells me that there was a man in plain clothesstanding in the alley last night for three hours."

  "Pa," cried the girl, "I'm so sorry." Suddenly searching his face witha swift instinct, she perceived that these months had made it yellow andlined. "Pa, dear, you must come to Glencoe to-morrow and rest You mustnot go off on any more trips."

  The Colonel shook his head sadly.

  "It isn't the trips, Jinny There are duties, my dear, pleasantduties--Jinny--"

  "Yes?"

  The Colonel's eye had suddenly fallen on Mr. Hopper, who was stillstanding at the bottom of the steps. He checked himself abruptly asEliphalet pulled off his hat,

  "Howdy, Colonel?" he sai
d.

  Virginia was motionless, with her back to the intruder, She was frozenby a presentiment. As she saw her father start down the steps, sheyearned to throw herself in front of him--to warn him of something; sheknew not what. Then she heard the Colonel's voice, courteous and kindlyas ever. And yet it broke a little as he greeted his visitor.

  "Won't--won't you come in, Mr. Hopper?"

  Virginia started

  "I don't know but what I will, thank you, Colonel," he answered; easily."I took the liberty of walking home with your daughter."

  Virginia fairly flew into the house and up the stairs. Gaining her room,she shut the door and turned the key, as though he might pursue herthere. The man's face had all at once become a terror. She threw herselfon the lounge and buried her face in her hands, and she saw it stillleering at her with a new confidence. Presently she grew calmer; rising,she put on the plainest of her scanty wardrobe, and went down thestairs, all in a strange trepidation new to her. She had never been infear of a man before. She hearkened over the banisters for his voice,heard it, and summoned all her courage. How cowardly she had been toleave her father alone with him.

  Eliphalet stayed to tea. It mattered little to him that Mrs. Colfaxignored him as completely as if his chair had been vacant He glanced atthat lady once, and smiled, for he was tasting the sweets of victory.It was Virginia who entertained him, and even the Colonel never guessedwhat it cost her. Eliphalet himself marvelled at her change of manner,and gloated over that likewise. Not a turn or a quiver of the victim'spain is missed by your beast of prey. The Colonel was gravely polite,but preoccupied. Had he wished it, he could not have been rude to aguest. He offered Mr. Hopper a cigar with the same air that he wouldhave given it to a governor.

  "Thank'ee, Colonel, I don't smoke," he said, waving the bog away.

  Mrs. Colfax flung herself out of the room.

  It was ten o'clock when Eliphalet reached Miss Crane's, and picked hisway up the front steps where the boarders were gathered.

  "The war doesn't seem to make any difference in your business, Mr.Hopper," his landlady remarked, "where have you been so late?"

  "I happened round at Colonel Carvel's this afternoon, and stayed for teawith 'em," he answered, striving to speak casually.

  Miss Crane lingered in Mrs. Abner Reed's room later than usual thatnight.