As the various brigades moved away from our neighborhood a few plain articles of furniture that had been taken from the house were restored to us, but nothing handsome or valuable, no books, pictures, bric-à-brac, or house-furnishings of any kind—just a few chairs and tables. I had furnished an 391 itemized list of all the articles we had lost, with only this result.
We had news after a while of our blooded mare4, Lady Jane. A letter enclosing her photograph came from a New England officer:—
"To Mr. Pryor,
"Dear Sir: A very fine mare belonging to you came into my camp near Richmond and is now with me. It would add much to her value if I could get her pedigree. Kindly5 send it at your earliest convenience, and oblige
"Yours truly,
—— ——
"P.S. The mare is in good health, as you will doubtless be glad to know."
A great number of tourists soon began to pass our house on their way to visit the localities near us, now become historic. They wished to stand on the site of General Lee's headquarters, to pluck a blade of grass from the hollow of the crater7, to visit the abattis, lunettes, and fortifications of both lines, especially Fort Steadman, Fort Gregg, and Battery 45, where the lines were broken the last of March and on April 2.
These tourists, men and women, would pause at the well, some on horseback, others in the dilapidated landaus or buggies for hire in Petersburg. Uncle Frank, with his flow of courteous8 language and his attractive manners, would usually meet and discourse9 to them, earning many a douceur by drawing 392 from the well the cold water for which it was famous. Abram's family was abroad in the fields, where the old man had planted corn in June—too late to hope for other harvest than the fodder10 to feed the horse the quartermaster had given him at my earnest request. Under the impression that we were still working our negroes, some of the tourists would dismount and harangue11 Abram at length upon his "rights." The old man would listen respectfully, shaking his gray head dubiously12 as they rode off. "Recollect13, boy," said one of these travellers to Alick, "the white woman in that house is now your slave!" Alick was standing beneath my window, amusing himself by tying up a rosebush. He looked up, simply advising me,—"Let 'em go 'long,"—and resumed his work in training the rosebush.
Sometimes the tourists would ask permission to call on us, claiming some common acquaintance. My husband was inclined to resent this. Their sympathetic attitude was offensive to him. Like the Douglas he had endured much, but—
"Last and worst, to spirit proud
To bear the pity of the crowd:"—
this was more than he could endure.
We were perfectly15 aware that they wished to see us, and not to gain, as they affected16, information about the historic localities on the farm. Still less did they desire ignobly17 to triumph over us. A boy, when he tears off the wings of a fly, is much interested in observing its actions, not that he is cruel—far from 393 it! He is only curious to see how the creature will behave under very disadvantageous circumstances.
One day a clergyman called, with a card of introduction from Mrs. Hartsuff, who had, I imagine, small discernment as regards clergymen. This one was a smug little man,—sleek, unctuous18, and trim, with Pecksniffian self-esteem oozing19 out of every pore of his face.
"Well, Madam," he commenced, "I trust I find you lying meekly20 under the chastening rod of the Lord. I trust you can say 'it is good I was afflicted21.'"
Having no suitable answer just ready, I received his pious22 exhortation23 in silence. One can always safely do this with a clergyman.
"There are seasons," continued the good man, "when chastisement24 must be meted25 out to the transgressor26; but if borne in the right spirit, the rod may blossom with blessings27 in the end."
A little more of the same nature wrung28 from me the query29, "Are there none on the other side who need the rod?"
"Oh—well, now—my dear lady! You must consider! You were in the wrong in this unhappy contest, or, I should say, this most righteous war."
"V? victis!" I exclaimed. "Our homes were invaded. We are on our own soil!"
My reverend brother grew red in the face. Rising and bowing himself out, he sent me a Parthian arrow:—
"No thief e'er felt the halter draw
With good opinion of the law."
394
On the afternoon of a sultry day, a black cloud suddenly darkened the sky, thundered, lightened, and poured down a pelting30 storm of hailstones and rain. A party of young people galloped31 up to the gate, hastily dismounted, and ran for the shelter of our porch. There were half a dozen or more young girls and men. The small roof affording them scant32 shelter, I invited them into the parlor33, where they stood dripping and shivering until a fire was kindled34. A sudden cold wind came on with the hail. It had been a long time since I had seen happy, cheerful young girls in their riding-habits, and I fell in love with them at once, putting them at ease, chafing35 their hands, and drying their little coats. I never saw young folk so much embarrassed. They were Northern tourists, and felt the full force of our relative positions. When hot tea was brought in, they were overwhelmed. I was loath36 to give them up—these pretty girls. When they bade me good-by and thanked me for my nice tea and fire, the black eyes of one little beauty snapped with an unmistakable expression—"for your coals of fire!"
Such incidents as these were our only events. Our friends in town were in too much poverty and sorrow to visit us. A deadly silence and apathy37 had succeeded the storm. It was a long time before the community waked up from this apathy—not, indeed, until the cool, invigorating weather of autumn. The blood-soaked soil and the dead animals emitted sickening odors until the frosts came to chain them up.
A bachelor friend occasionally visited us and 395 invited the little boys to accompany him upon relic38-hunting expeditions to the narrow plain which had divided the opposing lines on that fateful April morning, just three months before. Ropes were fastened around extinct shells, and they were hauled in, to stand sentinel at the door. The shells were short cylinders39, with one pointed40 end like a candle before it is lighted. Numbers of minie balls were dug out of the sand.
One day Mr. Kemp brought in a great curiosity—two bullets welded together, having been shot from opposing rifles.
Twenty years afterward41 I showed this twin-bullet to General Grant, not long before his last illness. With Mrs. Grant, he had called at my home in Brooklyn to inquire if I had good news of General Pryor, who was in England, having been sent by Irish Americans to see what could be done for O'Donnell, the Irish prisoner. General Grant was much interested in this case. He found me at my late breakfast of tea, toast, and a dozen oysters42, which were divided among the three of us. After breakfast I brought out the bullet. He laid it on the palm of his hand and looked at it long and earnestly.
"See, General," I said, "the bullets are welded together so as to form a perfect horseshoe—a charm to keep away witches and evil spirits."
But the General was not interested in amulets43, charms, or evil spirits. After regarding it silently for a moment, he remarked:—
"Those are minie balls, shot from rifles of equal caliber44. And they met precisely45 equidistant to a 396 hair. This is very interesting, but it is not the only one in the world. I have seen one other, picked up at Vicksburg. Where was this found and when?" he asked, as he handed the relic back to me. "At Petersburg, possibly."
"Yes," I answered, "but not when you were shelling the city. It was picked up on our farm after the last fight."
He looked at me with a humorous twinkle in his eye. "Now look here," he said, "don't you go about telling people I shelled Petersburg."
Met Bullets found near Fort Gregg, 1865.
A short time before his death, just before he was taken to Mount McGregor, he dictated46 a note to me, sending his kind regards to my General, and saying he remembered with pleasure his talk with me over a cup of tea.
But we must return (and I am sure I am pardoned for this digression) to the weary life of enforced idleness at the cottage.
I had no garments to mend or to make, no household to manage. The sultry days were begun and rounded by hours of listless endurance, 397 followed by troubled sleep. A bag of army "hardtack" stood in a corner, so the children were never hungry. Presently they, too, sat around us, too listless to play or talk. A great army of large, light brown Norway rats now overran the farm. They would walk to the corner before our eyes and help themselves to the army ration47. We never moved a finger to drive them away. After a while Alick appeared with an enormous black-and-white cat.
"Dis is jest a leetle mo'n I can stand," said Alick. "De Yankees has stole ev'rything, and dug up de whole face o' the yearth—and de Jews comes all de time and pizens de well, droppin' down chains an' grapplin'-irons to see ef we all has hid silver—but I ain' obleedged to stan' sassyness fum dese outlandish rats."
Alick had to surrender. The very first night after the arrival of his valiant48 cat there was a scuffle in the room where the crackers49 were kept, a chair was overturned, and a flying cat burst through the hall, pursued by three or four huge rats. The cat took refuge in a tree, and, stealthily descending50 at an opportune51 moment, stole away and left the field to the enemy.
Of course there could be but one result from this life. Malaria52 had hung over us for weeks, and now one after another of the children lay down upon the "pallets" on the floor, ill with fever. Then I succumbed53 and was violently ill. Our only nurse was my dear General; and not in all the years when he never shirked duty, or lost a march, 398 or rode on his own horse when his men had a toilsome march or if one of them failed by the way, and never lost one of the battles into which he personally led them,—not in all those trying times was he nobler, grander, than in his long and lonely vigils beside his sick family. And most nobly did the aged54 negress in the kitchen stand by us. My one fevered vision was of an ebony angel!
After we recovered, my dear husband was ill—ague and fever had fastened on him. When he, too, grew better, he would sit for days in hopeless despair, looking out on the desolate55 landscape.
General Hartsuff and his wife often visited us. They were terribly afraid of fever, and would send in messages from the gate while we were all so ill. But after we had recovered, General Hartsuff came himself—and finally sent Captain Gregory, the commissary-general, to see me, and to reason seriously with me about the necessity of sending General Pryor away. He had never been pardoned. There were men in power who constantly hinted at punishment and retribution. General Pryor would die here. He should go to New York, go by sea, shake off the chills that shook him so relentlessly56 every third day, meet friends (many Southerners were in New York), and something might result for his benefit.
This idea grew in our minds as feasible, if only we had the money. It had never occurred to me to make a second attempt (one had failed) to sell my watch. I now took it to a banker in Petersburg, added to it a cherished antique cameo set in 399 diamonds which had never left my finger since it was given me, like Shylock's turquoise57 from his Leah, when my husband "was a bachelor." Leaving these in pledge, I received three hundred dollars. I bought some quinine forthwith, ordered a suit of clothes to replace the threadbare Confederate gray, and sent Roger A. Pryor, the sometime "rebel," to New York, upon an experiment of which the most sanguine58 imagination could not have foreseen the successful result.
A difficult task lay before him. Ruined in fortune, his occupation gone, his friends dead or impoverished59, his health impaired60, his heart broken, he had yet to win support for a wife and seven children, and that in a hostile community. Only two things were left to him—the ability to work and the willingness to work. With what courage he commenced the study of his profession, what difficulties he surmounted61, what rebuffs he bore with fortitude62, I can give here no adequate idea. He labored63 incessantly64, often breaking down and fainting, at his task. In one of his early letters he says, "Sometimes I sink in despair; but then I rally and press on. Don't you think heaven will prosper65 me for your sake? The obstacles to the success of 'a rebel' in this city are almost insurmountable."
He accepted a position on the Daily News which yielded him twenty-five dollars a week. Meanwhile he must learn New York law.
There has been too much sorrow already in this story. Why tell of all the anguish66, all the suffering of the next years? During the long, lonely winter 400 of 1865 my husband nobly strove to sustain my hopes, and for his sake I would not allow my heart to break.
Early in February old Abram, the faithful servant in whose care my husband left me, announced that we had reached the end of all our resources at Cottage Farm. Rose, the little cow, had died, the turnips67 and potatoes Abram had raised were all gone, the two pigs he had reared had fulfilled their destiny long ago, and the government rations68 had ceased. He "could scuffle along himself, but 't wa'n't no use to pertend" he could "take care of Mistis an' the chilluns, not like they ought to be took care of."
"We must not despair, Abram," I said. "We'll feed the children, never fear! I must plan something to help."
"Plannin' ain't no 'count, Mistis, less'n you got sump'n to work on. What we all goin' to do for wood?"
"What you have done all along, I suppose."
"No'm. Dat's onpossible. We done burn up Fort Gregg an' Battery 45. Der ain' no mo' fortifications on de place as I knows of."
"Fortifications!" I exclaimed. "Why, Abram! you surely haven't been burning the fortifications?"
"Hit's des like I tell you, Mistis. De las' stick's on yo' wood-pile now."
"Well, Abram," I said gravely, "if we have destroyed our fortifications—burned our bridges—the time has come to change our base. We will move into town." 401
Of course, without food or fuel, and without Abram, we could not live in the country. The fields were a desolate waste, with no fences to protect a possible crop or to keep cattle within bounds. Abram saw no hope from cultivation—nothing to "work on." He had been a refugee from a lower plantation69, and he was now inclined to put out his children to service, and return in his old age to his old home and to his old master, who longed to welcome him. He was a grand old man. I doubt not he has a warm place in the bosom70 of that other Abram, the faithful, but no whit14 more faithful than he.
The afternoon before our departure from Cottage Farm, the weather was so deliciously balmy that I walked over the garden and grounds, thinking of the great drama that had been enacted71 on this spot. The spring comes early in the lower counties of Virginia. Already the grass was springing, and on the trees around the well which had so often refreshed General Lee, tender young leaves were trembling. Our old friends the tourists now appeared at intervals72, taking in this historic ground on their return from Florida or South Carolina, where they had spent the winter.
The garden, which at this season had always blossomed with early hyacinths, daffodils, snowdrops, and the rosy73 spikes75 of the flowering almond, was now a ploughed and trampled76 waste of weeds. Under the iron-clad hoofs77 of the cavalry78 horses, and the heavy wheels of the gun-carriages, the life had been crushed out of the tender bulbs. Spring 402 had come to touch all scars with her gentle finger-tips. Over all the battle-torn ground, over the grave of the young soldier who had lain so long under my window, over the track ploughed by shot and shell, she had spread a delicate bloom like a smile on the lips of the dead. A bit of color attracted my attention, and stooping over a bramble-bush I found, under its protection, a single spike74 of pink hyacinth. When I arose with the treasure in my hand, I saw that an elderly gentleman had alighted from his "buggy" and was gravely considering me. He bared his head and introduced himself. "Madame, I am a Northern traveller. Will you give me that little flower as a souvenir?"
"Take it!" I said; there was nothing else left, his people had all the rest—and with effusive79 bows and thanks he stumbled over the briers and uneven80 ground to secure his delicate souvenir of a battle-ground.
Much of my last night at Cottage Farm was spent at the window from which I had watched on that anxious night of my first home-coming. The home had been polluted, sacked, desecrated—and yet I was leaving it with regret. Many a hard battle with illness, with want, with despair, had been fought within those walls. It seemed like a long dark night in which neither sun nor moon nor stars had appeared; during which we had simply endured, watching ourselves the while, jealous lest the natural rebound81 of youthful hope and spirit should surprise us, and dishonor those who had suffered and bled and died for our sakes. 403
But now the night was gone, the hour of awakening82 had come. There was work for me to do in the world; the world in which I had been divinely taught I should "have tribulation83" with the command and promise, "Fear not! I have overcome the world." And so, as I sat again in the darkness, and kept my midnight vigil:—
As of old when the fire and tempest had passed,
And an earthquake had riven the rocks, the Word
In a still small voice rose over the blast,
The voice of the Lord.
And the Voice said—"Take up your life again,
Quit yourself manfully, stand in your lot;
Be all forgot."
That I might aid my husband to mend our fortunes, I persuaded seven of my neighbors' children to take music lessons from me. I had been carefully instructed in music, having been taught by a pupil of Liszt's, brought over by the Hon. William C. Rives at the close of his second term as Minister to the Court of Louis Philippe, to teach his own daughter Amélie. So I was well equipped for my new duties, upon which, despite my own persistent85 chills and fevers, I entered with enthusiasm.
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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inscribing
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的现在分词 ) | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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crater
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| n.火山口，弹坑 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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fodder
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| n.草料；炮灰 | |
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harangue
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| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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ignobly
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| 卑贱地，下流地 | |
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unctuous
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| adj.油腔滑调的，大胆的 | |
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oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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exhortation
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| n.劝告，规劝 | |
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chastisement
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| n.惩罚 | |
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meted
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| v.（对某人）施以，给予（处罚等）( mete的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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transgressor
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blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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pelting
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| 微不足道的，无价值的，盛怒的 | |
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galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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chafing
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| n.皮肤发炎v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的现在分词 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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loath
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| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
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apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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cylinders
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| n.圆筒( cylinder的名词复数 )；圆柱；汽缸；（尤指用作容器的）圆筒状物 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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oysters
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| 牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
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amulets
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| n.护身符( amulet的名词复数 ) | |
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caliber
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| n.能力；水准 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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46
dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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ration
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| n.定量(pl.)给养，口粮；vt.定量供应 | |
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valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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crackers
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| adj.精神错乱的，癫狂的n.爆竹( cracker的名词复数 )；薄脆饼干；（认为）十分愉快的事；迷人的姑娘 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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51
opportune
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| adj.合适的，适当的 | |
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52
malaria
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| n.疟疾 | |
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53
succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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relentlessly
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| adv.不屈不挠地；残酷地；不间断 | |
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turquoise
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| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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impoverished
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| adj.穷困的，无力的，用尽了的v.使（某人）贫穷( impoverish的过去式和过去分词 )；使（某物）贫瘠或恶化 | |
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impaired
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| adj.受损的；出毛病的；有（身体或智力）缺陷的v.损害，削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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labored
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| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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prosper
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| v.成功，兴隆，昌盛；使成功，使昌隆，繁荣 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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turnips
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| 芜青( turnip的名词复数 )； 芜菁块根； 芜菁甘蓝块根； 怀表 | |
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rations
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| 定量( ration的名词复数 )； 配给量； 正常量； 合理的量 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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spike
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| n.长钉，钉鞋；v.以大钉钉牢，使...失效 | |
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spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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effusive
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| adj.热情洋溢的；感情(过多)流露的 | |
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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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rebound
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| v.弹回；n.弹回，跳回 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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tribulation
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| n.苦难，灾难 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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