CHAPTER XVIII
The figure of Lincoln had been set on the by-ways of State politics byhis debate with Douglas. His address in New York in February of 1860 sethim on the highways of the nation's life. Meanwhile there were no talksabout politics at Grey Pine. The Christmas Season had again gone by withunwonted economies.
While Douglas defined his opinions in the Senate and Jefferson Davis madeplain that the Union would be dissolved if a radical Republican wereelected, it became clear that the Democratic party which in April was tonominate candidates would be other than of one mind. Penhallow inWashington heard Seward in the Senate. Of this memorable occasion hewrote with such enthusiasm to Leila as he rarely showed:
"I may not write to your aunt, and I am moved to write to you by theeffect Mr. Seward's speech had on me. He is not much of a man in hismake-up. His voice is husky and his gestures are awkward and have norelation to what he says. It seemed a dried-up sort of talk, but he heldthe Senate and galleries to fascinated attention for two hours, and wasso appealing, so moderate. The questions at issue were handled with whatRivers calls and never uses--the eloquence of moderation. I suppose hewill be the nominee of the Republican party. It won't please theabolitionists at all. I wish you could have heard it.
"I came here to see two Southern Senators who have been counsel for us inregard to debts owing the mills by Southern railways. I gathered easilythat my well-known Republican views made collection difficult. I wasabout to say something angry--it would have done no good, and I amopposed to useless anger. It is all pretty bad, because the South hashardly felt the panic, or its continued effect on our trade.
"I am wrong to trouble you with my troubles. We shall pull through.
"Yours,
"JAMES PENHALLOW."
"P.S. I should have been prepared for my failure to get fair treatment.I had learned in New York that lists of abolition houses have beenpublished in the South, and Southern buyers warned not to place orderswith them. I wonder if I am thus listed. Our agent in Savannah writesthat it is quite useless to solicit orders on account of the prevalentsentiment, and he is leaving the town."
Penhallow went home disappointed and discouraged, and called a privatemeeting of his Pittsburgh partners. He set before them the state of theiraffairs. There would be no debts collectible in the South. He smiled ashe added that he had collected certain vague promises, which could hardlybe used to pay notes. These could and would be met, they said, butfinally agreed with him that unless they had other orders, it might benecessary to further reduce their small force. His partners were richerthan he, but indisposed to take risks until the fall conventions wereover. It was so agreed. As they were leaving, Penhallow said, "But therewill be our workmen--what will become of them?" They were sure timeswould get better, and did not feel his nearness of responsibility forworkmen he knew so long and so well.
He rode home at a walk. The situation of his firm was like that of manyothers, and now this April of 1860 business doubts, sectional feeling andlove of country seemed to intensify the interest with which all classeslooked forward to the Charleston Democratic Convention.
The Convention met on April 23rd. It was grave and able. There were dailyprayers in the churches of Charleston for the success of Southernprinciples. Henry Grey, a delegate, wrote to his sister:
"The Douglas platform was adopted and at once the delegations of sixcotton States withdrew. We who cannot accept Douglas meet in Richmond. Itmeans secession unless the Republicans are reasonable when they nominatein Chicago. Mr. Alexander Stephens predicts a civil war, which most men Imeet here consider very unlikely."
Ann handed this letter to her husband, saying, "This will interest you."
He read it twice, and then said, "There is at least one man in the Southwho believes the North will fight--Stephens."
"But will it, James?" A predictive spectre of fear rose before her.
Slowly folding the letter he said, "Yes, the South does not know us." Shewalked away.
On May 16th the Republicans met in Chicago. The news of the nomination ofLincoln came to the Squire as riding from the mills he met Dr. McGregorafoot.
"What, walking!" he said. "I never before saw you afoot--away from thatsaint of a mare."
"Yes, my old mare got bit by something yesterday and kicked the gig tosmithereens, and lamed her off hind-leg."
"I will lend you a horse and a gig," said Penhallow.
"Thanks," said McGregor simply. "I am sweating through my coat."
"But don't leave my horse half a day tied to a post--any animal withhorse-sense would kick."
"As if I ever did--but when the ladies keep me waiting. Heard the goodnews? No--We have nominated Lincoln--and Hamlin."
"I preferred Seward. You surprise me. What of the platform?"
"Oh, good! The Union, tariff, free soil. You will like it. The Octoberelections in Pennsylvania will tell us who will win--later you will haveto take an active part."
"No. Come up to-morrow and get that horse--No, I'll send it."
The Squire met Rivers on the avenue. As he walked beside the horse, hesaid, "I am going to dine with you."
"That is always good, but be on your guard about politics at Grey Pine.Lincoln is nominated."
"Thank God! What do you think of it, Squire?"
"I think with you. This is definite--no more wabbling. But rest assured,it means, if he is elected, secession, and in the end war. We will try toavert it. We will invent compromises, at which the South will laugh; atlast, we will fight, Mark. But we are a quiet commercial people and willnot fight if we can avoid it. They believe nothing will make us fight.The average, every-day Northerner thinks the threat of secession ismere bluff."
"Do you recall, Squire, what Thucydides said of the Greeks at the time ofthe Peloponnesian War?"
"I--how the deuce should I?--what did he say?"
"He said the Greeks did not understand each other any longer, althoughthey spoke the same language. The same words in Boston and in Charlestonhave different meanings."
"But," said Penhallow, "we never did understand one another."
"No, never. War--even war--is better than to keep up a partnership inslavery--a sleeping partnership. Oh, I would let them go--or accept thegage of battle."
"Pretty well that, for a clergyman, Mark. As for me, having seen war, Iwant never to see it again. This may please you." As he spoke, heextracted a slip of paper from his pocket-book, where to Leila'samusement queer bits of all kinds of matters were collected. Now it wasverse. "Read that. You might have written it. I kept it for you. There isAnn on the porch. Don't read it now."
Late that evening Rivers sat down to think over the sermon of the nextSunday. The Squire had once said to him, "War brings out all that is bestand all that is worst in a nation." He read the verses, and then readthem aloud.
"They say that war is hell, the great accursed, The sin impossible to be forgiven;Yet I can look beyond it at its worst And still find blue in Heaven.
"And as I note how nobly natures form Under the war's red reign, I deem it trueThat He who made the earthquake and the storm Perchance makes battles too.
"The life He loves is not the life of span Abbreviated by each passing breath;It is the true humanity of man Victorious over death."
"No great thing in the way of poetry--but--a thought--a thought. Oh, Ishould like to preach of men's duty to their country just now. I envyGrace his freedom. If I preached as he does, people would say it was noneof a preacher's business to apply Christ's creed of conduct to a questionlike slavery. Mrs. Penhallow would walk out of the church. But beforelong men will blame the preacher who does not say, 'Thou shalt love thycountry as thyself'--ah, and better, yes, and preach it too."
During the early summer of 1860, James Penhallow guarded an awkwardsilence about politics. Leila found that her uncle would not talk of whatthe closing months of Buchanan's administration might contribute toinsure peaceful settlement. John Penhallow was as averse to answering hereager questions.
Their silence on matters which concerned a nation'spossible dismemberment and her aunt's too evident distress weighedheavily upon Leila. The newspapers bewildered her. The _Tribune_ was forpeaceful separation, and then later was against it. Uncle Jim had said hewas too worried about the mills to talk politics, "Don't ask me, Leila."At last, an errand to Dr. McGregor's gave her the chance she desired.
"Yes," said the doctor, "I'll come to-day. One of the maids? Well, whatelse, Leila?" seeing that she still lingered.
"I want to know something about all this tangle of politics. There'sBreckinridge, Douglas, Bell and Lincoln--four candidates. Uncle Jim getsalmost cross when I ask him what they all stand for. Mr. Rivers told meto be thankful I have no vote. If there is to be war, have I no interest?There is Uncle Jim--and--and John."
The doctor said, "Sit down, Leila. Your uncle could answer you. He won'ttalk. I don't believe John Penhallow owns any politics except a soldier'sblind creed of devotion to the Flag."
"Oh, the Flag, Doctor! But it is a symbol--it is history. I won't writeto a man any more who has no certain opinions. He never answers."
"Well, my dear, see how hard it is to know what to think! One State afteranother is seceding. The old juggle of compromises goes on in that circuswe call Congress. The audience is grimly silent. Crittenden's compromisehas failed. The President is at last against secession--and makes novigorous effort to reinforce Fort Sumter. The Cabinet was distinctly withthe South--the new men came in too late. You--a girl--may well call it atangle. It is a diabolical cat's-cradle. My only hope, my dear, is in anew and practically untried man--Abraham Lincoln. The South is one inopinion--we are perplexed by the fears of commerce and are split. Thereyou have all my wisdom. Read the news, but not the weathercock essayscalled editorials. Oh! I forgot to tell the Squire that Tom, my youngdoctor, has passed the Army Board and is awaiting orders in Washington.By-bye!"
"Tom as a doctor--and in uniform," Leila murmured, as her horse walkedaway. "How these boys go on and on, and we women just wait and wait whilemen dispose of our fates."
In February the Confederacy of the South was organising, and in March of1861 Mr. Lincoln was President. Penhallow groaned over Cameron asSecretary of War, smiled approval of the Cabinet with Seward and Chaseand anxiously waited to see what Lincoln would do.
Events followed fast in those eventful days. On the thirteenth of AprilAnn Penhallow sat in the spring sunshine on the porch, while Leila readaloud to her with entranced attention "The Marble Faun." The advent of anearly spring in the uplands was to be seen in the ruddy colour of themaples. Bees were busy among the young flowers. There was noiseless peacein the moveless infant foliage.
"How still it is!" said Leila looking up from the book. They were farfrom the madding crowd. "What is it, Billy?"
He was red, breathless, excited, and suddenly broke out in his thinboy-like voice, "Hurrah! They've fired on the flag."
"Who--what flag?"
"Don't know." He had no least idea of what his words meant. "Don't know,"and crying "Hurrah! They've fired on the flag," fled away.
Ann said, "Go to the village and find out what that idiot meant."
In a half hour Leila came back. "Well, what is it?"
"The Charleston troops have fired on Fort Sumter--My God! Aunt Ann--onthe flag--our flag!"
Ann rose, gathered up her work, hesitated a moment, and saying, "That isbad news, indeed," went into the house.
Leila sat down on the step of the porch and broke into a passion oftears, as James Penhallow coming through the woods dismounted at herside. "What is the matter, my dear child?"
"They have fired on the flag at Sumter--it is an insult!"
"Yes, my child, that--and much more. A blunder too! Mr. Lincoln shouldthank God to-day. He will have with him now the North as one man. ColonelAnderson must surrender; he will be helpless. Alas for his wife, aGeorgia woman!--and my Ann, my dear Ann."
There are few alive to-day who recall the effect caused in the States ofthe North by what thousands of men and women, rich and poor, felt to bean insult, and for the hour, far more to them than the materialconsequences which were to follow.
When Rivers saw the working people of the little town passionatelyenraged, the women in tears, he read in this outbreak of a class notgiven to sentimental emotion what was felt when the fatal news came hometo lonely farms or great cities over all the North and West.
Memorable events followed in bewildering succession during the earlyspring and summer of 1861. John wrote that Beauregard and all but a scoreof Southern cadets had left the Point. Robert Lee's decision to resignfrom the army was to the Squire far more sorrowfully important.
When Lincoln's call to arms was followed in July by the defeat of BullRun, James Penhallow wrote to his nephew:
"My Dear John: Your aunt is beyond measure disturbed. I have been more atease now that this terrible decision as to whether we are to be one orGod knows how many is to be settled by the ordeal of battle. I am amazedthat no one has dwelt upon what would have followed accepted secession.We should have had a long frontier of custom houses, endless rows overescaping slaves, and the outlet of the Mississippi in the possession of aforeign country. Within ten years war would have followed; better let itcome now.
"I am offered a regiment by Governor Curtin. To accept would be fatal toour interests in the mills. It may become an imperative duty to accept;but this war will last long, or I much underestimate the difficulties ofovercoming a gallant people waging a defensive war in a country whereevery road and creek is familiar.
"Yours, in haste,
"JAMES PENHALLOW."
John wrote later:
"MY DEAR UNCLE: Here is news for you! All of my class are ordered toWashington. I shall be in the engineer corps. I see General McClellan isput in command of the army. I will write again from Washington."
Ann Penhallow heard the letter, and saying merely, "It had to come!" madethe bitter forecast that it would be James Penhallow's turn next.
John wrote again as he had promised, but now to Leila:
"At last we are in this crowded city. We get our uniforms in a day ortwo. I am a lieutenant of engineers. We are now in tents. On arrival wewere marched to General Scott's headquarters, and while drawn up in lineMr. Lincoln came out. He said a few words to us. His appearance wasstrange to me. A tall stooping figure, in what our village calls 'storeclothes,' but very neat; the face big, homely, with a look of sadness inthe eyes. He shook hands with each of us in turn, saying a word ofencouragement. Why he spoke specially to me, I do not know. He asked myname. I said 'Penhallow.' 'Oh,' he said, 'a Cornish name--the greatiron-works. Do you know the Cornish rhyme? It rings right true.' I said,'No, sir.' 'Well, it is good. Do your duty. There is a whole creed in theword--man needs no other. God bless you, boys.' It was great, Leila. Whatis the Cornish rhyme? Ask Uncle Jim. Write me care of the Engineer Camp.
"I put this on a separate slip for you. In Baltimore we were delayed andI had an hour's leave. I called on your uncle, Charles Grey. He is Unionthrough and through. His brother Henry has gone South. While I waswalking with Mr. Charles Grey, a lady went by us, drawing away her skirtswith quite unmistakable contempt and staring at your uncle in a way whichwas so singular that I asked what it all meant. He replied, 'It is yourUnited States cadet uniform--and the lady is Mrs. Henry Grey. I am not oftheir acquaintance.' This, Leila, was my first taste of the bitterness offeeling here. It is the worse for the uprising of union feeling all overMaryland.
"My class-mates are rather jolly about their commissions and the prospectof active war. I have myself a certain sense of being a mere cipher, adread too of failure. I can say so to you and to no one else. I am goingwhere death is in the air--and there are things which make me eager tolive--and--to be able to live to feel that I have done my duty. Thinkingof how intensely you feel and how you grieve over being unable to do morethan pray, I mean to pet a little the idea that I am your substitute."
At this point she sat a while with the letter on her l
ap. Thenshe read on:
"I hoped for a brief furlough, but got none, and so I shall apply tomemory and imagination for frequent leave of absence,--from duty.
"Yours,
"JOHN PENHALLOW."
"To pet a little the idea! That is so like John. Well, yes--I don't mindbeing petted as a substitute and at a distance. It's rather confusing."