The Trials of the Soldier's Wife

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINTH.

  THE EYE OF GOD--THE MANIAC WIFE.

  Pardon us, kind reader, for digressing for awhile from the sad tale ithas been our lot to give you, to remark on the strange fancies whichgovern the minds of a large majority. So inscrutable do the works ofthe Almighty appear, that we believe all the ills of this world areevoked by Him for some good end. In a measure this is correct. Whensinful mortals are burdened with sorrow and affliction, we canrecognize in them the chastening hand of God, for under such weight ofsuffering the soul is apt to pass through purified of the blacknessand corruption which darkened and rendered it odious to the good. Herewe see the benefits accruing from trouble and distress. We behold thesinner being punished for his transgression, and to the righteous andgood, these afflictions are welcomed as the saving of one more soulfrom the grasp of hell. But how is it when the innocent suffer? It isnot the work of the Eternal. High up in the celestial realms, His eyesare turned towards earth to punish the guilty and reward the innocent,and in His works we find no instance where the hands of adversity andsuffering have fallen upon those who deserved reward. Where theguiltless are found suffering, He relieves their necessities, andbrings them once more that happiness which they deserve on earth.

  Why shall it be always said that when a home of happiness is in aninstant hurled from the summit of earthly felicity and buried in thedark gulf of adversity, that such is the work of God? If that home iscontaminated by grievous sins, there is justice in the claim, butwhere the transgressions are not heavier than those good men commit,it cannot be, for the God who reigns above seeks to build up, and notto destroy, unless there is no other way of punishing the sinner butby the infliction of the heaviest penalties. We have painted asoldier's wife, if not free from sin, at least innocent of crimeswhich are calculated to bear upon the conscience and cause remorse orfear; we have pictured her two children, pure and unsinful, for itcannot be said that mortal can sin in infancy. We have shown themplunged in direst misfortunes, and is there not force in the questionwhen we ask if their months of penury and suffering were the works ofthe God of Mercy and Righteousness?

  It cannot be. The innocent do not suffer by the hands of God, whilethe guilty revel in all the wealth and affluence that this earthbestows. How many men are there who live in ease and comfort, whiletheir souls are burdened with sins? The hypocrite, the liar, thethief, the murderer; all, and by hundreds they can be counted, appearto the world

  "A combination and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal,"

  but in whose souls the fires of hell rage with remorseless fury. Buttheir afflictions are not known to man. The eyes of the world gaze noton them, when the mind is racked by the conflict of sin. We see nottheir sufferings; we know not the pangs they feel; we only recognizethem by the outward appearance. They live, surrounded with all thatcan make mortal happy, save the happiness of a clear conscience. Inthis world they prosper, and many gain the applause and commendationof their fellow mortals. What are their sufferings? They are unknownto man, though remembered by God. And if punishment comes at last, itis just and merited, nor do we regret that sin is scourged by theavenging hand of a Savior.

  But while we witness the guilty revelling in wealth and affluence, howoften are the innocent plunged in want? Aye, myriads of times. We knownot of them, but over the land there are hundreds of our fellowmortals whose days are but a repetition of suffering. Famine andsickness have stalked in the midst of hundreds who are innocent ofcrime, and reduced them to the last brink of despair. Is this the workof God? Forbid it, Heaven! that the charge should be made. There is noground on which to assert that the Ruler of the Universe--the God ofRighteousness--the Lord of Mercy, would thrust the innocent intowoe--would blast their earthly prospects--would dash the cup ofhappiness from their lips, and leave them to perish through Famine andDisease--while men steeped in crime, whose consciences, if read, wouldshow an appalling blackness of guilt--while they, we say, escaped fromearthly punishment and enjoyed all the good of this world! On Earth,as in Heaven and Hell, man is divided into two bodies, Angels andFiends. Both are known to the Almighty, and it is only when His eyesare turned from the good that Fiends triumph. Only then--it is not Hiswork--it cannot and can never be.

  And now, kind reader, you may think that the writer is either alunatic or a madman to advance a doctrine which claims that God--theInfinite--the Everlasting--the Omnipotent--the Inscrutable, would turnawhile from the good and survey them not--allow them to suffer. We areneither the one nor the other. Perchance our doctrine is a merevagary; still, as we glance over our country and see the scenes dailyenacted, we cannot believe they are the work of an Almighty Father.When our maidens are ravished by the hated foe and despoiled of thatVirtue held sacred in Heaven, is it the work of God? When the creepingbabe is immolated by the savages of the North, is it a dispensation ofProvidence? When the homesteads of the people are given to the flamesand the cursed army of Abolitionists exult at their demolition, doesthe hand of our Heavenly Father direct the work of destruction? Whenour temples are profaned by the bacchanalian orgies of the Northernhordes, does the Infinite invite them to desecrate His altars? Theyare not His works--they never were. These acts which the Christianworld shudders at, are the machinations and promptings of Hell, andthe Fiends who dwell therein triumph for awhile where the Eye of Godis not.

  But the Eye of God is not always turned away from His sufferingpeople. The cry of the wretched is borne to His ear by the angels, andMercy, Charity and Goodness descend to Earth and sweep away theincarnate spirits infesting it. In this we behold the Greatness andRighteousness of God, for though He may see not our hardships forawhile, the cry of the Innocent will ascend to Heaven; theirsufferings will be obliterated, and if even on earth they gain nothappiness, in those realms where sinless Angels abide, all past woes,all past years of want, all former wretchedness, are removed andforgotten, in an eternity of peace and celestial felicity.

  And so it was with the soldier's wife whose sad trials we arenarrating to the reader. The spirit of the angel daughter had wingedits flight to the Savior, and the little invisible hand pointed to itsmother on earth below, and the Son of God supplicated the Father torelieve the miseries of the innocent. We have shown how this was done.The good of earth was the medium of salvation, and her trials are atan end.

  Yes, they are at an end! But with them, when she fell fainting in herhusband's arms on recognizing Awtry, the light of reason expired, andthe soldier's wife was a maniac.

  They bore her gently to the residence of Dr. Humphries, and there allthat medical science could perform was done, and every attention waslavished upon her. But it was of no avail; madness had seized the mindof Mrs. Wentworth, and the doctor shook his head sadly as he gazedupon her. Days passed on, and still she continued in this state.

  "I fear she will only recover her reason to die," observed Dr.Humphries to Harry. "Could her constitution sustain the frenziedexcitement she now labors under, I would have some hope, but themonths of wretchedness she has passed through, has so weakened herframe that nothing remains but a wreck of what was once a healthywoman."

  "This is bad news," remarked Harry, "and I fear it will have a sadeffect upon Alfred. I have been overcome with sympathy at observinghis silent grief at the bedside of his raving wife, and several timesI have heard him mutter, 'never mind, my darling, you will soonrecover, and then we will be happy.' Unfortunate man! Could there bethe slightest possibility of saving his wife, I am certain you wouldnot despair."

  "I do not yet despair," replied the doctor, "although I fear very muchher case is hopeless. I have sent for Dr. Mallard and Dr. Purtell;when they have seen Mrs. Wentworth, we will have a consultation, and Itrust some good will accrue from it. By the way," he continued,changing the conversation, "have you heard what has become of thesupposed spy arrested in the court house?"

  "I heard on yesterday that his trunks had been searched, but nothinghad been discovered in them, beyond the fact that he was Mr. Aw
try,and not an Englishman, as he pretended to be."

  "Have they discharged him?" inquired the doctor.

  "Oh no;" Harry replied, "the fact of his assuming a false characterwas deemed sufficient evidence to keep him in prison until furtherdiscoveries are made."

  "It is very likely, then, that he will eventually pay the penalty ofhis crimes," observed the doctor.

  "Yes; and I trust it will not be long before he suffers death," Harryanswered, and then added: "I am not bloodthirsty, nor do I favor thehoisting of the black flag, as so many appear desirous of doing. Butfor a wretch like Awtry, I have not the slightest pity, and would hearof his execution with pleasure. If even there is no proof discoveredof his being a spy, his brutality to Mrs. Wentworth merits punishment,and if only for that, I should desire to see him hung or shot.However, I have no fear but that the fact of his being a spy will bediscovered, for several of the most expert detectives in the serviceare on the search for the necessary evidence to convict him."

  "And which evidence I trust they will soon discover," remarked thedoctor. "Like you, I am averse to a war of extermination, but wheninstances like the one before us are brought to our notice, anoutraged and indignant people demand satisfaction and should have itaccorded to them."

  "Ah! my dear sir," replied Harry, "while Awtry's outrage on Mrs.Wentworth deserves condemnation and punishment, he is not solely theguilty cause of her sufferings. From the moment she reached our lines,it was the duty of the people of this city to aid and succor her. Hadthis been done, her daughter may have been alive this day.Unfortunately the philanthropic and charitable were idle and waiteduntil such cases came to their notice. Had they looked for them, Mrs.Wentworth never would have fallen into the hands of unprincipledspeculators and extortioners, and would have been spared the load ofaffliction which has now periled her life."

  "You are right, Harry," said Dr. Humphries. "It is our duty to searchfor the unfortunate poor, and not to wait until they appeal forassistance. There are many destitute women and children in our midstwho have been driven from their once happy and prosperous homes by thehated Yankees. Among them are many high-toned and respectablefamilies, whose pride shrinks from begging for bread, and who now livea life of penury and starvation rather than become the mendicant. Andif even they bury delicacy at the mandate of stern Want, they are soapt to be refused assistance by the heartless, that they imagine allof our people alike, and fearing further refusal, shrink with naturalhorror from a second rejection."

  "This can be prevented," observed Harry. "Let the benevolent make it abusiness to find out the suffering who are worthy of assistance, andlet such aid be given, not as charity, but as a duty we owe those whohave remained faithful to our cause, and abandoned their homes ratherthan submit to the enemy. By so doing, we not only alleviatehardships, but we render the soldier happy and contented to serve hiscountry. The knowledge that his family is protected by those at home,and supplied with all that is necessary, will remove from his mind allanxiety for their welfare. It will, besides, grasp them from theclutches of the wretches who are speculating and extorting, and willnot only be an act of everlasting honor to those who perform this goodwork, but will aid our cause as much as if the parties were serving inthe field. Many a man who now lies in the deserter's dishonored grave,would have been this day sharing the glory of his country and beenlooked upon as a patriot, had not his starving wife and childrenforced him in an evil hour to abandon his post and go to them. It istrue, there is no excuse for the deserter, but where the humanaffections are concerned, it is but natural that the soldier will feelsolicitous for the comfort of his wife and children."

  "Something of that sort should, indeed, be done," remarked the doctor,"and I believe there are many in our midst who would cheerfully aid inthis good work. I cannot believe that the majority of our people aresuch inhuman characters as Elder and Swartz. It is true that these menhave a monopoly in our midst, so far as wealth is concerned, but itwould be wrong to blame the majority for the crimes of a few."

  "The majority, if even good and charitable, are to blame," repliedHarry, firmly, "for if they outnumber the miserable creatures whosesole thought is to amass wealth from the sufferings of our country, itis their duty to thwart such desires by every possible means, and itcould be done were the proper steps taken. But they have heretoforedisplayed an indifference almost criminal, and appear to participatein the unworthy prejudice against refugees. Forgetful that they mayto-morrow be similarly situated, they lend a moral, if not an activeaid, in the oppression of this unfortunate portion of our people, andare perfectly careless whether want and misery overtake them or not.We must not forget that these refugees are as much entitled to a homein this as in their own State. Their husbands, fathers and brothersare fighting to protect us from subjugation, and if we are unmindfulof the comfort of their relatives, it not only entails disgrace uponour name, but renders us deserving of a similar fate, and worsetreatment."

  "I agree with you," said the doctor, "and so far as I am concerned,everything that can be done for them shall be performed, and--"

  Here a knock at the door interrupted the conversation. Harry openedit, and Drs. Mallard and Purtell were announced.

  "Good morning to you, gentlemen," said Dr. Humphries, as soon as theyentered. "I am very glad you have answered my call so promptly. Thecase I desire you to see is one of great seriousness, but I withholdany opinion until you have seen the patient and expressed your ideasabout it."

  "I Suppose it is the lady who was accused of theft," said Dr. Mallard.

  "Yes sir," answered Harry, "it is the same person."

  "I observed her features very attentively during the trial," remarkedDr. Mallard, "and so convinced was I that she would soon be insane,that I determined, in the event of her being found guilty, to have herreleased and placed under my care on that plea. Is she raving?" headded inquiringly of Dr. Humphries.

  "Yes," replied that gentleman, "but in her ravings she makes noallusion whatever to her wretched life of the past few months. Shefancies herself at home in New Orleans again, and as all was thenhappiness with her, so does everything appear to her mind the reflexof her past days."

  "We had better see her now," said Dr. Purtell, "for the soonersomething is done towards restoring her reason the better."

  "Certainly," answered Dr. Humphries, "walk this way," he continued,leading them toward Mrs. Wentworth's chamber.

  At the door he was met by Emma, who had been watching by the bedsideof the maniac all the morning.

  "Walk easily," she whispered as the three gentlemen appeared at thedoor. "She is now calmer than ever, but the slightest noise willexcite her again."

  The medical gentlemen entered the room with noiseless steps, andremained for several minutes watching the sleeping sufferer. Heremaciated features were flushed from excitement and her breathing washard and difficult. In her sleep, she softly murmured words which toldof happy years that were past and vanished forever and could nevermore return. The broken sentences told of love and happiness, and adeep feeling of sympathy stole into the breasts of her hearers as theylistened to her ravings. Alfred was sitting by the bed looking on thewreck of his wife, and when the doctors entered, he arose and brieflysaluted them. To their words of condolence he made no reply, for hisheart was bitter with grief, and he felt that consolatory language wasa mockery, and however well meant and sincere it may have been, itcould not relieve the agony he felt at witnessing the destruction ofhis family's happiness. Oh, let those alone who have felt the burningof the heart when it was wrung with agony, appreciate the misery ofmen struck down from the pedestal of earthly joy and buried in thegulf of wretchedness. We have known homes where the heart beat highwith joy, and life promised to be a future of happiness and peace;where the fairest flowers of affection seemed to bloom for us, andover our pathway floated its perfume, while before our sight, itsloveliness remained undiminished until that fatal delusion, Hope,intoxicated the senses and made us oblivions to reality. A briefspell--a charm of
short duration, and the hallucination is dispelled,only to leave us seared and blasted, almost hating mankind, andwearing the mask of the hypocrite, leading a double life, to hide thesears left by unsuccessful ambition, or disappointed aspiration. Whatwere death itself compared with the misery of finding, when too late,that the hopes and happiness we deemed reality, were but a shadow, nota substance, which lingered for awhile and Left us to curse our fate.

  And yet it is but life--one hour on the pinnacle, the other on theground. But to our tale.

  After remaining by the bedside for several minutes, the doctors wereabout to leave, when Mrs. Wentworth awoke from her sleep, and gazedwith an unmeaning look upon the gentlemen. She recognized no one--noteven her husband, who never left her, save when nature imperativelydemanded repose.

  The doctors requested that Alfred and Emma would retire while theyexamined the patient. In accordance with their wishes, they did so,and Alfred, entering the balcony, paced up and down, impatient for theresult of the consultation. The door of Mrs. Wentworth's chamberremained closed for nearly half an hour, when it opened, and Drs.Humphries, Mallard and Purtell issued from it, looking grave and sad.

  The heart of the husband sank as he looked at their features.

  "Let me know the worst," he said, huskily, as they approached him.

  "We will not deceive you," replied Dr. Mallard, "your wife, we fear,will remain a maniac while her strength lasts, and then--" here hepaused.

  "And then--" replied Alfred, inquiringly.

  "We fear she will only recover her reason to die" continued Dr.Mallard in a tone of sympathy.

  "God help, me," uttered the soldier, as he sunk on a chair and buriedhis face in his hands.

  After a few more words full of sympathy and condolence the two doctorsleft, and shortly after Dr. Humphries dispatched a servant to bringthe little boy from the old negro's cabin.

  "His presence may rally Mr. Wentworth," the doctor observed to Harry."Since the consultation he has remained in the same seat, and hasnever once visited the room of his wife. Something must be done torouse him from his grief, otherwise it will be fatal to his health."

  "The presence of his son may be beneficial," said Harry, "but I do notbelieve the child can while him away from the sorrow he has met with.It has been a hard--a fatal blow, and has fallen with fearful effectupon my poor friend."

  In about an hour the servant returned with the child. He had beenneatly dressed in a new suit of clothes and looked the embodiment ofchildish innocence.

  Taking him by the hand Dr. Humphries led him into the balcony whereAlfred still sat with his face buried in his hands, deep in thoughtand racked with grief.

  "Here," said the old gentleman, "here is your son. The living and wellclaim your attention as well as those who are gone and those whosuffer."

  Alfred raised his head and gazed at the child for a moment.

  "My boy," he exclaimed at last, "you are the last link of a once happychain." As he spoke he pressed the child to his bosom, and thestrong-hearted soldier found relief in tears.