The Mistress of the Manse Part 12

At last the silliest were wise; And swift to flash and thunder-burst Fashioned in anger their replies.

The smoke of Sumter filled the air.

Men breathed it in in one long breath; And straight upspringing everywhere, Life burgeoned on the mounds of death, And bloomed in valleys of despair.

The fire of Sumter, fierce and hot, Welded their purpose into one; And discord hushed, and strife forgot, They swore that what had thus begun With sacrilegious cannon-shot,

Should find in a.n.a.logue of flame Such answer of the nation's host, That the old flag, washed clean from shame In blood, should wave from coast to coast, Over one realm in heart and name!

Pale doubters, scourged by countless whips, Fled to their refuge, or obeyed The motives and the masterships That time and circ.u.mstance betrayed Through Patriotism's apocalypse,

And, sympathetic with the spasm Of loyal life that thrilled the clime, Lost in the swift enthusiasm The loose intention of their crime, And leaped in swarms the awful chasm

That held them parted from the ma.s.s.

The North was one in heart and thought; And that which could not come to pa.s.s Through loyal eloquence, was wrought By one hot word from lips of bra.s.s!

XVII.

The cry sprang upward and sped on: "To arms! for freedom and the flag!"

And swift, from Maine to Oregon, O'er glebe and lake and mountain-crag, Hurtled the fierce Euroclydon,

Men dropped their mallets on the bench, Forsook their ploughs on hill and plain, And tore themselves, with piteous wrench Of heart and hope, from love and gain, And trooped in throngs to tent and trench.

"To arms!" and Philip heard the cry.

Not his the valor cheap and small To bl.u.s.ter with brave phrase, and fly When trumpet-blare and rifle-ball Proclaimed the time for words gone by!

Men knew their chieftain. He had borne Their insolence through struggling years, And they---the dastards, the forsworn-- Who had ransacked the hemispheres For instruments to wreak their scorn

On him and all of kindred speech, Gathered around him with his friends, And with stern plaudits heard him preach A gospel whose stupendous ends Their martyred blood could only reach.

They gave him honor far and wide, As one who backed his word by deed; And he whose task had been to guide, Was chosen by reclaim to lead The men who gathered at his side.

The crook was banished for the glave; The churchman's black for soldier-blue; The man of peace became a brave; And, in the dawn of conflict, drew His sword his country's life to save.

XIX.

They came from mead and mountain-top; They came from factory and forge; And one by one, from farm and shop-- Still gravel to the Northman's gorge-- Followed the servile Ethiop.

Gaunt, grimy men, whose ways had been Among the shadows and the slums, With pedagogue and paladin, Rushed, at the rolling of the drums, To Philip, and were mustered in!

The beat of drum and scream of fife, Commingling with the thundering tramp Of trooping throngs, so changed the life Of the calm village that the camp, And what it prophesied of strife,

And hap of loss and hap of gain, Became of every tongue the theme; Till burning heart and throbbing brain Could waking think, and sleeping dream, Of naught but battles and the slain.

XX.

With eager eyes and helpful hands The women met in solemn crowds, And shred the linen into bands That had been better saved for shrouds, Or want's imperious demands.

And with them all sad Mildred walked, The bearer of a heavy cross; For at her side the phantom stalked-- Nor left her for an hour--of loss Which by no fortune might be balked.

For one or all she loved must fall; One cause must perish in defeat; Success of either would appall, And victory, however sweet To others, would to her be gall.

To each, with equal heart allied, Her love was like the love of G.o.d, That wraps the country in its tide, And o'er its hosts, benign and broad, Broods with its pity and its pride!

A thousand chances of the feud She wove and raveled one by one,-- Of hands in kindred blood imbrued,-- Of father, face to face with son, And friends turned foemen fierce and rude.

And in her dreams two forms were met, Of friends as leal as ever breathed--- Her husband and her brother--wet With priceless blood from swords ensheathed In hearts that loved each other yet!

But itching ears her language scanned, And jealous eyes were on her steps; And fancies into rumors fanned By loyal shrews and demireps Proclaimed her traitress to the land.

They knew her blood, but could not know That mighty pa.s.sion of her heart Which, reaching widely in its woe, Grasped all she loved on either part, And could not, would not let it go!

XXI.

The time of gathering came and went-- Of noisy zeal and hasty drill-- And every where, in field and tent,-- A constant presence,--Philip's will Moulded the callow regiment.

And then there fell a gala day, When all the mighty, motley swarm Appeared in beautiful display Of burnished arms and uniform, And gloried in their brave array!--

And, later still, the hour of dread To all the simple country round, When forth, with Philip at their head, They marched from the familiar ground, And drained its life, and left it dead;--

Dead but for those who pined with grief; Dead but for fears that could not die; Dead as the world when flower and leaf Are still beneath a gathering sky, And ocean sleeps on reach and reef.

The weary waiting time had come, When only apprehension waked; And lonely wives sat chill and dumb Among their broods, with hearts that ached And echoed the retreating drum.

Teachers forgot to preach their creeds, And trade forsook its merchandise; The fallow fields grew rank with weeds, And none had interest or eyes For aught but war's ensanguined deeds.

As one who lingered by a bier Where all she loved lay dead and cold, Sad Mildred sat without a tear, Living again the days of old, Or, with the vision of a seer,

Forecasting the disastrous end.

Whatever might come, she did not dare Believe that fortune would defend The n.o.ble life she could not spare, And save her lover and her friend.

Her blooming girls and stalwart boys Could never comprehend the woe Which dropped its measure of their joys, And felt but horror in the show, And heard but murder in the noise,

And dreamed of death when stillness fell Behind the gay and shouting corps.

They saw her haunted by the spell Of a great sorrow, and forebore To question what they could not quell.

Small time she gave to vain regret; Brief s.p.a.ce to thought of that adieu Which crushed her breast, when last they met, And in love's baptism bathed anew Cheeks, lips, and eyes, and left them wet!

In deeds of sympathy and grace, She moved among the homes forlorn, Alike to beautiful and base And, to the stricken and the shorn, The guardian angel of the place.