IE.RROE 
 
THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
KILMER COLLECl ION 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/graybluestoryfouOOroee 
 
The Gray and The Blue. 
 
 A STORY 
 
 Founded on Incidents Connected with the War 
 FOB THE Union. 
 
 By col. EDWARD REYNOLDS ROE. 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 
 EAND, McNALLY & CO., PUBLISHEES. 
 
 1884. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1884, by 
 
 RAND, McNALLY & CO., 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian ot Congress, at Washington, D. C. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Col. Cauldwell, of Mississippi, and Capt. Adams, of 
 St. Louis — Fellow-Travelers — The Captain's Let- 
 ter, AND ITS TeLL-TaLE POSTSCRIPT 7-20 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MoNTicELLO Seminary, and the Budding of a Romance — 
 A Contraband Letter — Miss Cauldwell's Holiday 
 AT The Hermitage— An Elephant's Tooth 21-34 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Deaf, Dumb and Blind, Yet not Cut Off from the 
 World — A Strange Interview — A Paris Marriage, 
 AND THE Mystery Surrounding It 35-48 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Mist and Sunshine — Letter of Miss Waterbury to her 
 Mother — Sabbath Musings — Air Castles 49-54 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 Batteries op War, of Galvanism, and of Love — Union 
 AND Confederate — How Genevieve came to Reject 
 
 THE Captain's Offer 55-68 
 
 (3) 
 
 603211 
 
4 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A StrKDAT Dinner at The Hermitage, "with a Spice of 
 War — Grant at Vicksbitrg — The Return to Monti- 
 cello— A Significant Telegram 69-80 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Missing Witness of Mrs. Waterburt's Marriage — 
 The Strike of 1877 — Confederates and Unionists 
 Shoulder to Shoulder— A Room nsr the Planters 
 House, and What was Found There.... 81-98 
 
 CHAPTER Vm. 
 
 The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth — New 
 Complications— Dr. Chartervale Holds an Unpro- 
 fessional Consultation—" The Girl's in Love "..99-112 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 On the Iron Mountain Road— The Valley of Arcadia 
 —Southern Sentiments in Butternut 113-120 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Doctor's Excursion to Old Fort Hovet— Gene- 
 vieve's Discovery— On the Hotel Veranda— An 
 Interesting Colloquy.. 121-130 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 The Excursion to Pilot Knob, and How it Ended— 
 Poor White Trash— Captain Adams Meets With 
 AN Unpleasant Surprise 131-144 
 
CONTENTS. 5 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 How Mrs. Chartervale's Deposition was Taken — Jus- 
 tice AT Last — Mrs. Waterbury Recovers Happiness 
 AND Fortune .- 145-156 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A Glance at a Grand Jury at Work — The Tell-Tale 
 Plate — Miss Genevieve Makes a Very Unpleasant 
 Discovery, but Sees Her Way Clear at Last.. 157-172 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Justice Gains a Victory — A Manly Letter, and the 
 Happiness It Brought 173-182 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Some Mississippians — Mr. Langdon Takes the First 
 Step Toward Reconciliation 183-188 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A Modest Heroine — Genevieve Carries the Day with 
 THE District Attorney — Miss Waterbury Creates 
 A Sensation at The Hermitage — An Anonymous 
 Note — Genevieve Recognizes the Work of an 
 Enemy ..189-202 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The Happy Reunion of the Waterburys at Nonabel 
 — An Eventful Sunday — Two Sermons, and What 
 Came of Them --. ...203-218 
 
6 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 PAS* 
 
 Mrs. Chartervale Writes Her Last Loving Message 
 — A House op Mourning — Genevieve Solves a Mys- 
 tery—Captain Adams Takes a Journey 219-232 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Miss Waterbury Finds a Cure for the Heartache — 
 Professor Adams, and the Magic there is in a • 
 Name - - 233-246 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The Captain and the Colonel Ad.just Their Differ- 
 ences—A ]\Ierry Meeting — Genevieve's Brother 
 Writes a Letter to Genevieve.- 247-200 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 At the Fair and After — Views of Pilot Knob and 
 Shepherd's Mountain— An Unkno^vn Artist... 261 -272 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The Captain and Genevieve's Articles of Confedera- 
 tion — Mysteries Dissolve, and Once More there 
 IS Rejoicing at The Hermitage 273-286 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A New Union of Hearts and Hands — The Knot is Tied, 
 and Off They Go On Their Wedding Journey ..287 -292 
 
THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Col. Cauldwell, of Mississippi, and Capt. Adams, op St. 
 Louis — Fellow-Tbavelers — The Captain's Letter, and 
 ITS Tell-Tale Postscript. 
 
 " No more shall the war-cry sever, 
 
 Or the winding river be red ; 
 They banish our anger forever 
 
 When they laurel the graves of our dead." 
 
 i^APTAiN Seth Adams was passing down the 
 \© Illinois Central Railroad from Chicago to 
 St. Louis, in a full car. At Kankakee, among 
 others who came aboard, was a gentleman wear- 
 ing a gray felt hat, very broad in the rim, who 
 walked to near the centre of the car, and there 
 stood looking in vain for an empty seat. He did 
 not look pleased ; in fact, he looked up and down 
 the crowded car, and from seat to seat, with an 
 expression that seemed to say : ' ' Very strange 
 nobody offers me a seat!" He was standing ex- 
 actly at the seat occupied by Captain Adams, but 
 (7) 
 
» THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 either he did not observe that there was but one 
 person in the seat, or he purposely turned his 
 back toward the captain and waited for an invi- 
 tation to sit down. Seeing this hesitation, and 
 supposing then that the new-comer was unac- 
 customed to railway travehng, the captain invited 
 the gentleman to sit by him. 
 
 " This way, sir," said Adams, as he Ufted his 
 vahse from the vacant end of the seat; " will you 
 sit here ? " 
 
 The stranger turned, stared a moment, and then, 
 before accepting the proffered seat, said in a tone 
 of mixed hauteur and politeness : 
 
 ' ' Do you know me, suh ? " 
 
 " No, sir, I do not know you ; but that is no 
 reason why I should not offer you a seat." 
 
 ^' Thank you," said the new-comer; "but I 
 thought I recognized your voice and might have 
 met you befo'. Don't you live in the South ? " 
 
 " St. Louis," replied Captain Adams. 
 
 " Yes, suh ; I knew you was no Yankee," said 
 the other. 
 
 " And I knew you was a Southerner : but do 
 you still dishke Yankees ? " 
 
 "Well, yes; I hate the regular blue beUies — 
 you are a Western man ? " (interrogatively). 
 
CAPTAIN ADAMS. 9 
 
 "We generally class them all as Yankees; 
 but I make the distinction, and know the 
 genuine blue belly at sight. Saw a house full 
 of 'em to-day, out on the pra'ry — all with the 
 ear-marks." 
 
 "Yes," rephed Adams, "they are all over the 
 best part of lUinois, and most of them prosper- 
 ing." 
 
 " Prospering ! I should think so ! — get all they 
 can and keep all they get." Then, after taking 
 his broad-brimmed hat in his hand and combing 
 his long black locks with his fingers, the tall 
 Southerner continued : 
 
 "You see, I had business with one Standish to- 
 day — as I was telling you — out on the pra'ry, and 
 soon as I entered the house I knew on sight they 
 were all genuine Yanks. Might have known it 
 from the name if I had thought, but I didn't ; no 
 one but a Yankee ever had such a name as 
 Standish." 
 
 "And what were the ear-marks that betrayed 
 them?" 
 
 "I'll tell you. I had been directed to the 
 house, and when I knocked at the do' — there was 
 but one do' — the wife opened it, and uncere- 
 moniously bid me good-morning. ' Colonel 
 
10 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Cauldwell, I believe ? Walk in, suh ; husband 
 will be in shortly. Have this chair ! ' and she 
 took my hat and plumped me down in a big rock- 
 in' chair befo' I could get in a word." 
 
 "She seemed to understand ear-marks, too, 
 didn't she ? " said Adams, with a smile. 
 
 '^ Oh, she knew I was to be thar. Well, I was 
 in the dining-room, and I looked at that table 
 with dinner on it for seven, without counting 
 myself. My God, suh ! let me tell you. Table- 
 cloth white as snow ; knives and forks, spoons, 
 dishes and table-ware bright as new dollars. And 
 here was the dinner for eight : one little plate of 
 cheese — about two ounces ; one httle glass dish 
 of honey ; one little plate and a dab of butter 
 another little plate with shavings of dried beef 
 one small plate of thin-cut bread, white as snow 
 and one pickled cowcumber, (I swar' it's a fact !) 
 cut into eight long slices, lying on a plate ! 
 Would anybody in this world but a Yankee set 
 such a table as that ? " 
 
 " Perhaps the dinner had not been brought in 
 from the kitchen ? " said Adams. 
 
 "WeU, suh, Mrs. Standish came in directly, 
 and aU that Yankee woman brought in was about 
 half a pound of corned beef and a dozen potatoes. 
 
COLONEL CAULDWELL. 11 
 
 Add a cup of tea, which the wife and five daugh- 
 ters— ^t^e daughters, suh ! — all drank ; and that 
 was dinner for eight. I could have gobbled the 
 whole of it ! Rather distinct ear-marks, I should 
 say." 
 
 Adams smiled pleasantly, and nodded assent. 
 
 "And then, by thunder, suh," continued the 
 colonel, '■' when I had paid him some money and 
 could not make the exact change, he sent that 
 woman to search for three cents — three cents, 
 suh ! and I had to take the coppers ! " 
 
 All this time Adams listened patiently, but 
 said little. He studied the man's face, and noted 
 his tall figure— his broad-brimmed gray felt hat, 
 his clothing of the same color, his long black hair 
 and heavy mustache, and his entire make-up. 
 Then, looking squarely into the keen gray eyes 
 of his seat -mate, he said, with manifest interest, 
 but great politeness of manner : 
 
 " The Yankee woman called you Colonel Cauld- 
 well, I think you said ? " 
 
 "Yes, suh." 
 
 " Colonel MarshaU CauldweU ? " 
 
 "Yes, suh. Have we met befo'? There is 
 something familiar in your voice." 
 
 " I happen to know a young lady of your name 
 
12 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 who spells her name as you do — with a u — as I 
 infer." 
 
 "At St. Louis?" 
 
 ''Yes; at St. Louis." 
 
 ''It can not be my sister Genevieve ? Our fam- 
 ily came in Eevolutionary days from the North 
 of Ireland — Protestants, you know, suh — and we 
 aU speU the name with a w." 
 
 A good deal of general conversation followed 
 as the cars sped along, which was at last ended 
 abruptly by the conductor's cry : " Effingham ; 
 twenty minutes for supper ; St. Louis passengers 
 take the next car forward." 
 
 "Sorry to leave you, suh," said CauldweU, as 
 the two gentlemen left the cars ; " but I go on to 
 Mississippi." And after a hearty meal CauldweU 
 gave his new acquaintance an unusually cordial 
 good-bye, as he returned to the Cairo car, while 
 Adams took the Vandaha line for St. Louis. And 
 for some miles, as the diverging trains flew over 
 the prairie, each mused thoughtfully of the 
 other. 
 
 "Strange! thought CauldweU, "that I 
 should be so drawn to a total stranger. I have 
 certainly met him before. He appears too young 
 to have been in the army; and if I did not meet 
 
FELLOW-TRAVELERS. 13 
 
 him there, where did I hear that voice ? Why did 
 I not learn his name ? " 
 
 But Captani Adams knew his man. He had 
 seen him before, and he well knew where. ''But 
 could Colonel Cauldwell be, indeed, the brother 
 of Miss Genevieve ? I must ask the ' Old Philoso- 
 pher ' 1 Chartervale will, of course, know, as 
 they say he knows everything. But, then, he is 
 her uncle, I think, and of course he knows." 
 
 Cauldwell was mistaken. Seth Adams had not 
 been too young to be a soldier in the war for the 
 Union, though he was still not thirty years old. 
 When he entered the service as a lieutenant of 
 engineers he was not yet eighteen, though, from 
 his tall, well-developed and manly appearance, no 
 question had been raised as to his age. At the 
 time of this incidental meeting with Colonel 
 Cauldwell, Adams was sufficiently changed from 
 the youthful soldier of 1862 to account for the 
 colonel's failure to recognize him. And when 
 Cauldwell looked upon the robust man six feet in 
 height, with moustache and flowing beard, and 
 expressing in voice and manner and entire ad- 
 dress the calm confidence of assured manhood, 
 he failed to see that he was that young lieutenant 
 of the Union army to whom he owed the highest 
 
14 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 possible obligation. Nevertheless, he looked upon 
 the fine figure, the fair skin, flowing hght-brown 
 hair, and large cordial, honest, deep blue eyes of 
 Adams with an admiration which it was not his 
 wont to extend to any man. But the voice it 
 was which impressed him most. He had, indeed, 
 heard that voice fifteen or more years ago ; and 
 it afterward haunted him from its unexplained 
 f amfiiarity when he heard it upon the train. But 
 there are voices which strike us with familiarity 
 when heard for the first time; when we curiously 
 wonder when and where we heard them before. 
 And such a voice had Adams. 
 
 Captain Adams was now a civil engineer, had 
 assisted in the construction of the great steel 
 bridge at St. Louis, and was proud to have held 
 even a subordinate position in that wonderful 
 work, where the great river had been beaten upon 
 his own ground, and the vast piers had been sunk 
 through thirty yards of Mississippi mud to the 
 solid rock. And now, when his train had reached 
 East St. Louis, and he — for certain reasons — was 
 crossing the Father of Waters upon the steam 
 ferryboat, he looked down toward the great steel 
 arches which were seen to spring from pier to 
 pier, proud to feel that he, too, had wrought in 
 
CAPT. ADAMS' LETTER. 15 
 
 this grand triumph of engineering, even though 
 his place had been a subordinate one. It was 8 
 o'clock at night. A round moon was coming up 
 over the American Bottom, and throwing a silvery 
 radiance over river and bridge, and illuminating 
 the eastern aspect of the greatest trans-Mississippi 
 city. A steamer was rounding out from the 
 crowded landing, and went whizzing by, down 
 through the bridge piers and away. Others at 
 the wharf were ringing their bells or blowing 
 their deep-toned steam signals, while above the 
 city itself the gaslights from the streets and the 
 beams of the rising moon commingled in sti^ange 
 glamour in the overspread canopy of smoke. 
 
 Arrived at his hotel, he went to his room, 
 wrote the following note, put a dispatch-stamp 
 on the envelope, attached a small package to the 
 note, and took it himself to the hotel clerk to be 
 sent out by the messenger-boy in the morning : 
 
 Planters' House, 6 p. m., Tuesday. 
 Dr. W. Chartervale, Hermitage, 
 
 Near Shaw's Garden. 
 
 My Dear Sib : I examined the tooth of the Elephas 
 
 Americanus in the natural history rooms at Chicago, this 
 
 morning, in careful comparison with your specimen, and 
 
 have no hesitation in saying that your fragment belonged 
 
16 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 to the extinct American elephant. I return your inter- 
 esting fossil herewith, and will thank you for a line ac- 
 knowledging the receipt, as it is too valuable to lose. 
 
 It occurs to me to ask if your young lady friend, whom 
 I first met at your house, has relatives in Mississippi ? I 
 allude, of course, to Miss Cauldwell. 
 
 Your friend, Seth Adams. 
 
 By 9 o'clock next morning this note — which so 
 resembled a woman's letter, with the most impor- 
 tant item in the postscript — was at The Hermit- 
 age and in the hands of Dr. Chartervale. This 
 man and his pleasant suburban home play prime 
 parts in this narrative, and the reader will find it 
 to his interest to accept an introduction now. 
 
 William Chartervale was born at Cincinnati, of 
 English parentage, about 1810, and at the era of 
 our story was nearly sixty-seven years old. He 
 studied medicine, and graduated as soon as he was 
 old enough; was a great student, not only of his 
 special department, but of general science in all 
 its phases, and of literature and the arts. Hungry 
 for knowledge, he sought it in countless ways, 
 and digested all the vast mass which he devoured. 
 At the breaking out of the war for the Union he 
 left his extensive practice at St. Louis, where he 
 had accumulated a fortune, and went into the 
 
A TELL-TALE POSTSCRIPT. 17 
 
 Union army as a surgeon. At the close of the 
 war he built for himself that large and beautiful 
 home in the suburbs of St. Louis, known as "The 
 Hermitage," and gave himself up almost wholly 
 to scientific pursuits. Genial, kindly, courteous 
 to all, forbearing and universally tolerant, the 
 "Old Philosopher" (as his friends delighted to 
 call him) was esteemed by all who knew him. 
 Personally, he was of medium height and some- 
 what robust ; head large, with abundance of 
 flowing (but not curling) dark brown hair, now 
 touched with gray; forehead high and broad, 
 with large blue-gray eyes looking out from under 
 a prominent brow, and a face to match — they 
 never wore a frown. 
 
 Such was the master of The Hermitage. And 
 as the man, so was his home and its appointments 
 and surroundings. Out doors— fruits, flowers, 
 vines, arbors, well-cropt swards, grassy banks and 
 pleasant walks; indoors — besides domestic apart- 
 ments and furniture — hbrary, conservatories, 
 cabinets of fossils and recent shells, art room, 
 and a well-stocked laboratory, with no end of 
 philosophical instruments and miscellaneous curi- 
 osities. Nor were any of these things for mere 
 show. Dr. Chartervale was famiUar with them 
 
18 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 all. In the laboratory was a fine microscope, 
 and in the cupola, at the toj) of the great stair- 
 way, a good si:ji-inch telescope, the instruments 
 forming, as the doctor was fond of saying, "the 
 outpost sentinels of human knowledge." 
 
 When Dr. Chartervale opened and read the 
 note which Captain Adams had dispatched to 
 him on the night previous, he smiled as he turned 
 to his little black-eyed sister, to whom he had 
 always confided all family affairs, and, handing 
 the letter to her, said : 
 
 "The small end of this letter is the heaviest." 
 
 " Oh," said Annie ; " it is from Captain Adams. 
 I knew he would take pleasure in making the 
 investigation for you." 
 
 " Yes ; but he inquires about Genevieve Cauld- 
 well's kindred. He wrote that note and returned 
 the specimens last night, you see — after his long 
 ride from Chicago." 
 
 "Yes; he knew that you were anxious to 
 know about it, and returned it promptly." 
 
 "Eead the last three lines again, dear," said 
 the doctor, with an expressive smile. Miss 
 Chartervale read : " It occurs to me to ask if your 
 lady friend, whom I met first at your house, has 
 
DR. CHARTERV ale's REPLY. 19 
 
 relatives in Mississippi ? " Then, after a pause, 
 she added : 
 
 "If Captain Adams — a Union soldier — expects 
 so bitter a rebel as Colonel Cauldwell to approve 
 any but the most formal acquaintance between 
 him and the colonel's sister and ward, he will soon 
 learn his mistake. You ought to caution the 
 captain, dear." 
 
 "Not I, indeed. I shall answer his inter- 
 rogatory, and perhaps add a few words of the 
 personal history of Colonel Cauldwell. Adams is 
 no boy, and may be safely trusted to manage his 
 own little affairs." 
 
 "Well, tell him at least how great a rebel the 
 colonel was, and how he hates all Northern men." 
 
 Dr. Chartervale wrote as follows : 
 
 The Hermitage, Wednesday Morning, 
 Captain Seth Adams, Planters House. 
 
 My Dear Captain : Many thanks for the favor you did 
 me at Chicago. The specimen reached me all right this 
 morning. I was very confident it was elephant and not 
 mastodon, as had been suggested by some of my friends. 
 
 Yes, Miss Cauldwell (my wife's cousin, as you know) 
 has a brother who lives with his wife at or near the town 
 of Prentiss, in Mississippi, — the beautiful town which 
 some of our Union soldiers found it necessary to burn 
 during the war. Colonel Cauldwell was a bitter rebel 
 
20 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 (so-called), and to this day hates with a bitter hatred all 
 Union soldiers, and especially all true Yankees. He is 
 otherwise a man of sense and a kind brother. He is also 
 his sister's guardian under the laws of his own State and 
 of Missouri. He really believes himself to be a great 
 patriot — and he is, — but I think his patriotism is bounded 
 by the Mississippi on the west, and on the other sides by 
 Louisiana and the Gulf, Alabama and Tennessee. I know 
 him pretty well, and have told you the worst which can 
 be truly said of him. 
 
 How did it " happen " to occur to you to make the 
 inquiry. Captain? 
 
 I am, your friend, W. Chaktervale. 
 
 P. S. — Come out and dine with us Sunday. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 MONTICELLO SEMmAET, AND THE BUDDING OF A ROMANCE — 
 
 A Contraband Letter — Miss Cauldwell's Holiday at 
 The Hermitage — An Elephant's Tooth. 
 
 [HE ''Monticello Seminary" for young ladies, 
 as is widely known, is at Godfrey, Illinois. 
 It was founded by the wise liberality of a gentle- 
 man from whom the romantic little town takes 
 its name. To be a graduate of MonticeUo is a 
 badge of distinction of which any young lady 
 may be proud; and thousands of passengers on 
 the great railroad which runs through the viUage 
 remember the deUghtf ul glimpse of the Seminary 
 buildings which is permitted by the grand old 
 trees which surround them, and many, in look- 
 ing at the quiet seclusion of MonticeUo, have 
 thought, "If there's peace to be found in the 
 world, it is there!" 
 
 Two hundred young ladies together, and aU the 
 cares and vexations of the world excluded! Love 
 — except that sweet sisterly affection which 
 
 (21) 
 
22 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 springs naturally among school girls — is never 
 permitted to pass the threshold of Monticello. 
 Not even a letter from a young gentleman in the 
 coolest guise of friendship must enter the sacred 
 doors. Of course, no young lady thinks of any- 
 thing hut literature and belles-lettres, and Cupid 
 dare not even look over the garden wall. 
 
 Bat " Love laughs at locksmiths, " and even into 
 this quiet retreat a letter from a young gentleman 
 — a very harmless affair— did find its way one 
 sunny Thursday morning. The letters by the St. 
 Louis mail were all brought in as usual, and 
 handed to the matron for distribution. Looking 
 them over carefully, the good and careful matron 
 selected one which was under ban at first sight; 
 it had a return address on the left-hand corner, 
 which read: "Seth Adams, Civil Engineer, St. 
 Louis." 
 
 "Ask Miss Genevieve Cauldwell to call at my 
 room," said the good matron, who had never 
 in her life had a love affair, and did not mean 
 that any one else should while under her pro- 
 tection. 
 
 Miss Cauldwell, accompanied by her room-mate, 
 called as requested. Her face was calm and 
 beautiful as usual, and not the faintest blush 
 
A CONTRABAND LETTER. 23 
 
 suffused her cheek as she offered to take the letter 
 which she saw in the matron's hand. 
 
 ''Wait a moment, dear," said the watchful 
 matron. ''This letter is from a gentleman 
 unknown to me as belonging to your family. 
 You remember the rule ? — it must be opened in 
 my presence, or forwarded to your friends at 
 The Hermitage." 
 
 "Certainly, Madam," said Miss Cauld well with 
 perfect composure. "Who is it from? Please 
 open and read it yourself ; I have no gentleman 
 correspondent. " 
 
 " The letter is from a Mr. Adams, civil engineer. 
 Who is he ?" 
 
 This announcement was received with a very 
 slight start. Miss Cauldwell hesitated. Then she 
 said quietly : ' ' Perhaps you had better forward 
 it to The Hermitage." 
 
 And then, seeing the matron about to put the 
 letter in her pocket, and unable to bear the 
 suspense of waiting to know the contents until 
 she should meet Dr. Chartervale, she said : 
 
 "I have no idea as to why the gentleman writes 
 to me ; read the letter, please." 
 
 The matron opened the envelope, and handing 
 the letter to Miss Cauldwell, requested the young 
 
24 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 lady to read it aloud. Genevieve looked hastily- 
 down the page to be sure there was nothing 
 contraband, and then very calmly read : 
 
 My Dear Miss Cauldwell : 
 
 I presume upon the very slight but very pleasant 
 acquaintance which I was permitted to form with you at 
 The Hermitage to ask you about a gentleman I met upon 
 the train a few days since. His name was Cauldwell — 
 Colonel Marshall Cauldwell — spelled with a ■w as your 
 own name is. We became somewhat intimate, and I was 
 so much interested in him that I am curious to know if 
 he is a relative of yours? Will you be kind enough to let 
 me have at least a single line in reply (care Planters 
 House), and very much oblige 
 
 Yours, with much respect, Seth Adams. 
 
 Miss Cauldwell's room-mate broke into a merry 
 laugh as the reading of this business-like epistle 
 ended, and said: ''It's too good! I thought it 
 was a " 
 
 ''A what, Miss Jane? Don't be giddy," said 
 the wily matron, as she sat down at once and 
 wrote a reply to the note of Captain Adams : 
 
 S. Adams, Esq. 
 
 Dear Sir: The matron of Monticello Seminary, at the 
 request of Miss Cauldwell, replies to your note of inquiry 
 by saying that Colonel Marshall Cauldwell, of Prentiss, 
 Miss., is her brother and her guardian. 
 
THE MATRON REPLIES. 25 
 
 The matron also begs leave to call attention to the note 
 at the top of this sheet. 
 
 Respectfully, The Matron. 
 
 The note referred to was printed in small 
 type at the top of the letter-sheet of the insti- 
 tution, as follows : 
 
 All correspondence with and by the young ladies of this 
 institution, except with near kindred and female friends, 
 is strictly forbidden. 
 
 And that was the only reply to the respectful 
 and altogether proper inquiry of Captain Adams. 
 The matron suspected that the captain's letter 
 meant more than it said; Miss Cauldwell secretly 
 hoped so, and her room-mate openly said so. 
 
 ''Now, Vieve," said Miss Jane, when the 
 two had returned to their own room, "who is 
 he, anyhow ? and what do you think of it ? " 
 
 "What do I think of what?" said "Vieve," 
 replying to the second question first. 
 
 " Oh, the letter, of course. Ah, Vieve ! He's 
 the very one you've been talking about. I 
 wouldn't have a Yankee soldier if he was the 
 last man alive. What would your brother 
 say ? " 
 
 "Jane Waterbury, what do you mean? Who 
 
2b THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 said anything about having anybody ? But, 
 indeed, Captain Adams is a very fine looking 
 man, and pohte and manly as any Southern 
 gentleman I ever saw." 
 
 ''He is a Yankee!" 
 
 "He is no Yankee! Don't you know the 
 difference? He's a Western man." 
 
 "It all comes to the same thing. Did not 
 Western soldiers burn down your town, and 
 nearly roast your own brother ahve ? No 
 Yankee soldier for me ! " 
 
 "Jane Waterbury, you never saw Captain 
 Adams. If you had, you would " 
 
 "Have faUen in love with him? as I beheve 
 in my soul you have done. Vieve, write to 
 him anyhow ! I will mail your letter." 
 
 ' ' Thank you ; but I can mail my own letters. 
 If Captain Adams wishes to improve his ac- 
 quaintance with me, he can find the way, I 
 suppose. There's the bell for recitation. Come!" 
 
 And these two Southern girls, who were 
 affectionate as sisters, went hastily together to 
 the recitation room." 
 
 This was Thursday morning. On this day by 
 the morning train came a letter from The Her- 
 mitage inviting Genevieve to come down Satur- 
 
HOLIDAY AT THE HERMITAGE. 27 
 
 day and stay over Sunday with her cousin, Mrs. 
 Chartervale. A cordial invitation was also ex- 
 tended to Genevieve's friend and school-mate, 
 Miss Waterbury, to come also. And so it was 
 agreed to go, Genevieve, who was accustomed to 
 be there, assuring her friend that The Hermitage 
 was a most delightful place, and that Dr. Char- 
 tervale was "just splendid," for an old gentle- 
 man, and ''knew everything." 
 
 An hour's ride Saturday morning took them 
 to St. Louis, where they found the doctor 
 and Miss Chartervale awaiting them in their 
 
 carriage at the Union Depot, and in another 
 
 hour they were at The Hermitage. 
 
 The day was dehghtful ; The Hermitage and 
 
 aU its surroundings were bathed in sunshine, 
 
 and Miss Waterbury, who was less composed 
 
 and more effusive than Genevieve, broke into 
 
 exclamations of dehght. 
 
 "Oh, Vieve!" she exclaimed, "show me 
 
 about these entrancing grounds before we go 
 
 in ; you are at home here." 
 
 "And shall I not go with you?" said the 
 
 kind-hearted doctor. "I enjoy the grounds 
 
 all the more because I made them entrancing, 
 
 as you say." 
 
28 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 *' Thank you, Doctor, if it will be no trouble 
 to you. But nature seems to have fitted up 
 this spot specially for a pleasant place." 
 
 ^'Nature furnished the foundation certainly," 
 replied the doctor, taking the young ladies one 
 upon each arm; ''but when I bought the bare 
 ground for a song ten years ago, the wise ones 
 laughed at me for an old blockhead. ' The place 
 is fit for nothing but a slaughter-house,' they 
 said. I cut it into terraces, leveled it here and 
 there, built my house, planted my grounds, and 
 now here we have The Hermitage." 
 
 And so half an hour was spent in delighted 
 exclamations from Miss Waterbury and delight- 
 ful explanations from the Old Philosopher. 
 And the word "dehghtful" is used advisedly; 
 for Dr. Chartervale had the happy power of 
 interesting old and young ahke in all he said, 
 and to drop fresh thoughts like snowflakes on 
 all subjects, bright and sparkling. 
 
 "Now, Genevieve," said the doctor, after the 
 party had gone into the house, ''I leave you to 
 show Miss Waterbury through The Hermitage — 
 ' upstairs, downstairs, in a lady's chamber. ' ' ' 
 
 They began at the bottom, and entered the 
 museum and laboratory first. On a table, with 
 
VISIT TO MUSEUM AND LABORATORY. 29 
 
 the other fossils and many curious things, lay the 
 specimen of elephant's tooth which had been the 
 subject of Captain Adams' communication, with 
 the letter itself lying open beside it. Seeing that 
 the letter related to the specimen, Miss Waterbury 
 read it aloud. When she had read the query at 
 the bottom and seen the signature, she exclaimed, 
 in a tone of surprise and with wide-open eyes : 
 
 '' Oh, Vieve ! look here." And so handed the 
 open letter to Genevieve, who read it with out- 
 ward composure and a burning cheek, and then 
 said, in a tone of evidently assumed vexation : 
 
 "It is very strange that a gentleman so intelli- 
 gent as Captain Adams should think it necessary 
 to write two letters for so unimportant an in- 
 quiry." 
 
 " Perhaps Dr. Chartervale did not choose to 
 reply." 
 
 "He always rephes to everybody about every- 
 thing." 
 
 " Perhaps the doctor saw his drift and discour- 
 aged him." 
 
 "There wasn't much encouragement in the 
 reply to his second letter." (This in a tone of 
 assumed vexation over the whole matter, at the 
 same time turning her face away.) 
 
30 THE GRAY AKD THE BLUE. 
 
 " What wiU you do about it ? " 
 
 "Nothing. Let us go to the conservatory; you 
 love flowers." 
 
 ^' Aiidyou 'love your love and your love loves 
 you.' Oh, I wish I could see him, Vieve ! " 
 
 "You called him a Yankee, and you hate 
 Yankees." 
 
 "But I just wish to see if he's good-looking." 
 
 While the young ladies were passing to the 
 conservatory. Dr. Chartervale slipped quietly into 
 the room they had left and put Captain Adams' 
 letter into his pocket. He had not been careful 
 — for some reason or other — that Genevieve 
 should not see that letter, but he preferred that 
 it should be out of sight before the captain came 
 to dinner. It might prove embarrassing. 
 
 In the conservatory Genevieve was deeply in- 
 terested in a new cactus — or assumed to be — 
 which she had not before seen. "Oh, Jane," 
 said she, "isn't that just exquisite? I must 
 sketch it, and when we get back I must finish it 
 up." And off she ran to the next room for 
 paper and pencil. 
 
 "You can't do it, Vieve. It's aU a pretense. 
 You are not thinking of the cactus at aU," said 
 Jane. 
 
DINNER AT THE HERMITAGE. 31 
 
 But paying no heed to her vivacious companion, 
 Genevieve did make a very passable sketch of the 
 cactus; while Miss Waterbury roamed from plant 
 to flower and from flower to plant, all the while 
 watching Genevieve. By the time the sketch 
 was finished, dinner was announced, and the 
 further survey of The Hermitage was postponed 
 until afternoon. 
 
 At dinner Dr. Chartervale said to Miss Water- 
 bury, who sat near him : "Do you pay any at- 
 tention to natural history at Monticello ? " 
 
 "Some of the girls do. I have very Httle in- 
 terest in beasts and toads." 
 
 "But all hving things belong to the broad do- 
 main of natural history ; even botany is one of 
 its branches. You are fond of flowers, of 
 
 course 
 
 ?" 
 
 Oh, yes, indeed ! I am studying botany ; and 
 Genevieve includes natural nistory in her course." 
 " I obtained a fine specimen of the mammoth 
 or American elephant's tooth, last week ; but as 
 the specimen was only a fragment, I sent it to 
 Chicago a few days since, for comparison, to re- 
 move all question about it. And Captain Adams, 
 who made the comparison for me " (looking at 
 Genevieve) "found it all right." 
 
32 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Genevieve did not appear to hear this remark 
 at all, but looked straight at her plate and plied 
 knife and fork as if very hungiy. Miss Water- 
 bury looked toward her with a significant smile. 
 Then she said : 
 
 "Doctor, where was your specimen ob- 
 tained ? " 
 
 " Near Bunker Hill, in lUinois ; it was sent 
 to me by my old friend, Professor Adams." 
 
 "'Tis very strange all these things must be 
 found up North. I never heard of anything 
 of the kind down our way. Did you, Vieve ? " 
 
 Miss Genevieve looked up innocently, as if 
 she had not heard the conversation, and rephed, 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 And then Dr. Chartervale, seeing that Gene- 
 vieve was blushing shghtly and was somewhat 
 confused, answered for her : 
 
 " Oh, yes ; the largest fossil ever found on 
 the continent was obtained in the State of 
 Alabama." 
 
 "Yes," said Genevieve, now fully composed, 
 "that was the Zeuglodon, was it not ? " 
 
 "Yes, that was the Zeuglodon. It was on 
 exhibition for some time in this city." 
 
 "But where did you obtain that beautiful 
 
AFTER DINNER. 33 
 
 cactus ? " inquired Genevieve, as if anxious to 
 change the subject from Zeuglodons and ele- 
 phants' teeth. *'I saw it in the conservatory 
 and made a sketch of it. I am through with 
 my dinner, and will show it to you." And 
 away she went as if to return immediately, 
 but did not return at all. 
 
 An hour later, during a walk in the vine- 
 yard, Miss Waterbury turned suddenly and 
 said: 
 
 *'Vieve, did you know Captain Adams was 
 the son of Professor Adams? — the very gentle- 
 man who lectured to us a month ago, I sus- 
 pect. He was a grand old man." 
 
 " Jane Waterbury, you will obhge me if you 
 will not mention that name again for — twelve 
 hours." 
 
 Jane Waterbury laughed merrily, hummed 
 Gallagher's once famihar song, ''They told me 
 not to love him," and said no more. But she 
 thought that if Captain Adams was as hand- 
 some as his old father had evidently been, she 
 could forgive him for having been a Federal 
 soldier. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Deaf, Dumb and Blind, Yet not Cut Off from the World 
 — A Strange Interview— A Paris Marriage, and the 
 Mystery Surrounding It. 
 
 Zj^T^^HEN the young ladies returned from their 
 \i^ walk among the vines they were met by 
 Dr. Chartervale, who told Miss Genevieve that 
 her cousin was waiting to receive her, and asked 
 Miss Waterbury if she would be presented to 
 Mrs. Chartervale, adding that it would be a sad 
 scene, and of a character, so far as he was aware, 
 without precedent. 
 
 Mrs. Chartervale had been Miss Fanny Gwynn, 
 of Ohio, and at the time of her marriage to the 
 doctor was an expert telegraph operator in her 
 native town. She was then a woman of fine 
 physique, possessing much personal beauty, and 
 was highly educated and accomplished, with a 
 fondness for art, science and Hterature, and had 
 traveled extensively in Europe. She had become 
 a telegraph operator out of a whim born of the 
 
 (35) 
 
36 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 strange infatuation with which the telegraph 
 had always affected her, and had married Dr. 
 Chartervale after a brief acquaintance, from a 
 very warm attachment, intensified by congenial 
 tastes and a deep conviction that, notwithstand- 
 ing his greater age, he was the man of all the 
 world to make her happy. In this she had not 
 been disappointed ; a more loving and devoted 
 husband never lived, as the sequel proved. Five 
 years after her marriage she had been in her car- 
 riage behind a runaway team, and was thrown 
 out and injured in a wonderful manner. Striking 
 the back of the head and neck against some solid 
 body, she had been at first paralyzed and wholly 
 insensible, and as she came out of that condition 
 she proved to be totally bhnd and deaf ! And so 
 she had continued ever since. The eyes were 
 affected with paralysis of the optic nerve, caus- 
 ing complete amaurosis and perfect bhndness, 
 without disfiguring the eyes, which still showed 
 as clear and beautiful as if capable of sight. The 
 auditory nerve, affected in the same manner, 
 made hearing impossible. Add to this paralysis 
 of the vocal organs and aphony, and the poor 
 lady's condition was most pitiable. 
 After the general health of Mrs. Chartervale 
 
DEAF, DUMB AI^D BLIND. 37 
 
 had been fully restored, it occurred to the doc- 
 tor to send for a telegrapher, and see if it 
 would not be possible to communicate with 
 her by the Morse alphabet. A young woman, 
 who was an expert operator and able to read 
 the dot-and-dash alphabet by sound, was brought, 
 and by the doctor's instruction an experiment 
 was made by moving a pencil back and forth 
 between the thumb and forefinger, after the 
 manner of operating with the Morse key in the 
 telegraph. The effect was wonderful ! The poor 
 lady instantly made demonstrations of delight, 
 and taking the pencil in her own right hand she 
 made answering signals between the thumb and 
 finger of the left. The young woman understood 
 them at once, and from that moment intercom- 
 munication between herself and her friends was 
 complete. And this was what Miss Waterbury 
 was now about to witness. 
 
 On entering the room usually occupied by Mrs. 
 Chartervale, Miss Waterbury (who had been 
 made aware of the lady's condition) was surprised 
 and dehghted. She found it tastefully furnished, 
 with every possible regard to the comfort of its 
 occupant, and neither sad nor gloomy, as she had 
 anticipated. In a large and richly upholstered 
 
38 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 arm-chair sat Mrs. Chartervale, with bright and 
 happy face, with not anything to indicate that 
 she was deaf and dumb and bhnd. To the 
 right arm of her chair was attached a Morse 
 telegraph key, which she was manipulating, 
 while a young woman at her side was listening 
 and making occasional rephes by signal with a 
 pencil between the left thumb and finger of Mrs. 
 Chartervale. 
 
 On entering the room the doctor had introduced 
 Miss Waterbury to the young woman telegrapher 
 (who was regularly employed as interpreter), and 
 said: 
 
 "Miss Tyndal, Miss Waterbury desires to be 
 presented ; allow me to do it, please." 
 
 Miss Tyndal took another seat, and the doctor 
 himself took her place. He had learned to be 
 sufficiently expert with the Morse alphabet to 
 converse with his wife quite well. She recog- 
 nized his signals at once, and appeared dehghted. 
 After feeling the doctor's signals on her thumb 
 for a minute, she began to move the key rapidly 
 in reply. The doctor did not quite get her words, 
 and looked to Miss Tyndal, who was intently fol- 
 lowing the signals : 
 
 " She says, ' Have the young lady give her full 
 
A STRANGE INTERVIEW. 39 
 
 name, if she please,'" said Miss Tyndal, inter- 
 preting. 
 
 "My full name is Jane Langdon Waterbury," 
 said the young lady. 
 
 Mrs. Chartervale appeared startled, and quickly 
 said by signal on the key : 
 
 " And your mother's name was Jane Langdon 
 Waterbury ? " — Miss Tyndal stiU acting as inter- 
 preter. 
 
 Miss Waterbury was now excited in turn — 
 indeed, she appeared strangely excited. But 
 controling herself, she said : 
 
 " Tell her that is indeed my mother's name." 
 
 The doctor made the proper signals. 
 
 "And your father's name was John C. Water- 
 bury ? " was the next sentence from Mrs. Char- 
 tervale. 
 
 Miss Waterbury burst into tears, and for some 
 moments could make no reply. Then she turned 
 to the doctor, begged his pardon for the unex- 
 plained tears, and requested him to ask Mrs. 
 Chartervale how she knew those facts. The 
 reply came promptly : 
 
 " I was at your mother's wedding in the city of 
 Paris." 
 
 Miss Waterbury was agitated and confused. 
 
40 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 She begged pardon for the expressions of feehng 
 which she could not avoid ; begged that they 
 would not now ask for explanations, and request- 
 ed the doctor to ask whether a visit from her 
 mother in Mississippi would be acceptable ; and 
 she was assured that Mrs. Chartervale would be 
 dehghted to have her come. 
 
 Presently Miss Tyndal again sat down at her 
 place, and acted as operator and interpreter. 
 
 " Say to her (meaning Mrs. C.) that we shall 
 have two or three friends to dinner to-morrow," 
 said the doctor. 
 
 Having understood this, Mrs. Chartervale in- 
 quired who they were. The reply dictated to 
 Miss Tyndal was : "Captain Adams and a friend 
 of his." 
 
 Miss Waterbury had sufficiently recovered her- 
 self by this time to observe that there was a faint 
 blush — the very faintest — on the cheek of 
 Genevieve, and that she appeared to be making 
 an effort to seem careless. That young lady 
 turned to her companion and said : 
 
 "I promised to show you the pictures, Jane; 
 let us retire." The young ladies went out. In 
 thehaU, at the foot of the stairs, they were joined 
 by Miss Annie, the doctor's sister, and all three 
 
A TERRIBLE CONDITION. 41 
 
 passed into the library, where was a fine collec- 
 tion of paintings, engravings, and other works of 
 art. But Miss Waterbury declared she was too 
 much impressed by the sad interview just termi- 
 nated above stairs to be interested in pictures. 
 *' That poor lady," said she ; **how terrible is her 
 condition ! " 
 
 "But it is less terrible than you imagine, bad 
 as it is," said Annie. 
 
 *' How could it be more terrible ? " 
 
 "She does not suffer ; she might be on a bed 
 of agony for years ; she is very thankful it 
 is no worse, and that she is able to enjoy hfe, 
 notwithstanding the privations of sight and 
 hearing." 
 
 " Yes, she lives ; but you can scarcely say that 
 she enjoys hfe." 
 
 " But she does, and she says so. You saw the 
 vase of flowers at her side ? My brother renews 
 them with his own hand every day. It would 
 make you weep from sympathy to see her fondle 
 a new rose and trace its petals with her delicate 
 and sensitive fingers. She can not say, ' How 
 beautiful,' but her face lights up with expressions 
 more significant than words. When she knows 
 we are with her she is very happy, and her tele- 
 
42 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 graph key rattles with dehght as she expresses 
 her emotions." 
 
 "But she is cut off from the world in eternal 
 darkness and silence ; how terrible ! " 
 
 '' Oh, no ; she is in darkness and in silence ; 
 but Miss Tyndal reads the daily news to her, 
 and she feels herself as in the world and of 
 the world, as you and I do." 
 
 " Is there no hope for her eyes ? They do not 
 look bhnd, and they impressed me as being very 
 beautiful." 
 
 " The doctors give her no hope. The paralyzed 
 optic nerve is beyond all surgery, and though 
 her eyes look nearly natural, they see no more 
 than eyes of glass." 
 
 "Who is Miss Tyndal, her interpreter?" 
 
 Genevieve answered this question. 
 
 "Miss Judith Tyndal is the sister of Captain 
 Tyndal, chief of the United States secret service 
 in this region. It is a very responsible position, 
 and he is a very superior officer. His sister is 
 quite lady-like, and has been with the family 
 for three years. Indeed, she is almost one of 
 the family ; is fuUy trusted, and has the run of 
 the house. She appears to be very devoted to 
 cousin Fanny." 
 
THE INVALID AS A MUSICIAN. 43 
 
 "I don't like her," said Miss Waterbury, in 
 her outspoken way. "She looks out side wise 
 under her brow." 
 
 " Oh, Jane, that's one of your whims," replied 
 Genevieve ; "and you dislike the Irish as much 
 as you do the Yankees." 
 
 "No, it did not occur to me that she was 
 Irish, but I suppose she is. I must have known 
 it by instinct, without being aware of it." 
 
 At this moment the music of a piano came 
 floating down the great stairway, filhng the 
 Hbrary room with a very storm of sound. Miss 
 Waterbury turned to listen. 
 
 "It is my cousin," said Grenevieve. 
 
 "Why! is it possible she plays?" 
 
 "Yes, after a fashion; listen." 
 
 Miss Waterbury was quite a musician, and 
 she soon detected sonmething peculiar. 
 
 "It appears to be without modulation," she 
 said. "It is all noise, and aU fortissimo.^'' 
 
 " And yet the time, as you will perceive, is 
 perfect." 
 
 "That is very strange," said Miss Waterbury, 
 "that one both bhnd and deaf should enjoy 
 music." 
 
 "But, then, she does not," interposed Miss 
 
44 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Annie. *' For the first year after her misfortune 
 she continued to play quite well, and appeared 
 to enjoy the music she did not hear. But she 
 gradually lost all musical appreciation, until she 
 could no longer follow the composition in 
 thought. My brother says that, not hearing 
 her own sounds, she could no longer control 
 them ; in the same manner as the power of 
 speech is lost to the accidentally deaf. But 
 she enjoys the mere mechanical exercise of 
 the fingers, and especially the rhythmical meas- 
 urement of time. That she does through 
 what my brother says is called 'the muscular 
 sense.'" 
 
 Miss Annie had caught her brother's mode of 
 thought and expression. In fact, though but 
 twenty years old, she was "learned in all the 
 wisdom" of her remarkable brother, and was 
 sometimes spoken of among her friends as " The 
 Little Philosopher," though, from sheer modesty 
 and a deep regard for the doctor, whom she 
 revered, she often credited her own thoughts to 
 her brother. 
 
 After supper, when the young ladies from 
 Monticello had retired to their room, — they pre- 
 ferred to be together, — Genevieve said : 
 
AN UNEXPLAINED MYSTERY. 45 
 
 "Do you really think, Jane, that my cousin 
 Fanny ever really knew your mother ? " 
 
 "There is a profound mystery about that 
 matter, Genevieve," rephed Jane. "You shaU 
 know it some day. Please do not ask me now. 
 All that I can say is that if Mrs. Chartervale 
 really was present at my mother's wedding, it 
 wiU be a piece of great good fortune that ever 
 I came with you to The Hermitage." 
 
 Genevieve did not press her question; but 
 she was more than ever convinced of what she 
 had for some time expected— that there was 
 some unexplained mystery in her friend's his- 
 tory, about which she was very tender. She 
 knew that, like herself, she resided in Bolivar 
 county, Miss. ; she knew Jane's uncle. Colonel 
 Langdon (whom she had met at Prentiss), and 
 that, with her mother, she Uved with that uncle ; 
 that was all. But Jane Waterbury was herself 
 a mystery to Genevieve. She was not only 
 vivacious and ready to overflow with merry 
 laughter upon the shghtest occasion, but she was 
 given to fits of unaccountable sadness, when 
 she was silent and reflective. She was subject 
 to outbursts of generous confidence and fuU of 
 unselfish kindness ; but, at the same time, was 
 
46 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 frequently jealous, without cause, passionate and 
 implacable. Short of stature, but perfectly pro- 
 portioned ; brunette of complexion, but with a 
 skin soft as satin ; large gray eyes, which lan- 
 guished and flashed by turns ; jet black hair, 
 straight as an Indian's, but soft as silk ; and a 
 low, soft, sweet voice, which could ripple, or 
 murmur, or storm, or keep silent, at will — this 
 was the portrait of Jane Waterbury. 
 
 And yet this wayward maiden was the boon 
 companion and confidential friend of Genevieve 
 Cauldwell — different in all her moods and all 
 her outward expression. Genevieve was slightly 
 above medium stature, with a figure faultless in 
 all its outhnes. Her complexion was fair, though 
 her long and abundant hair was glossy black, as 
 were her well-arched eyebrows and her long shin- 
 ing lashes. She walked with the springy step of 
 an Arab steed, but with the majesty of a queen. 
 A high, broad forehead is not now accounted 
 beautiful at Fashion's court ; but that of Gene- 
 vieve Cauldwell was high and broad and beauti- 
 ful, compelling the admiration of even those 
 who, in subjection to Fashion's decree, concealed 
 the forehead in a profusion of tresses. It was 
 smooth as ivory, and crowned a face as faultier . 
 
WONDERFUL EYES. 47 
 
 as itself. It was not an expressive face : it was 
 too calm and too composed for varied expression: 
 but it indicated a strong will, self -poise and moral 
 courage, emphasized by a mouth which was elo- 
 quent without words and musical with every 
 vocal utterance. But her honest, truthful, trust- 
 ful, deep-blue eyes ! They- were wonderful eyes. 
 There was "speculation" in them and visible 
 soul behind them. If you thought of Genevieve 
 CauldweU, it was not of her figure, her queenly 
 bearing, her marked physical beauty in any of its 
 outlines, or in its harmonious completeness as a 
 perfect type : you thought of her great, eloquent, 
 deep-blue eyes, which you looked into — not at. 
 Yes, they were wonderful eyes ! — as others, be- 
 sides Captain Adams, had felt. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Mist and Sunshine — Letter of Miss Waterbury to her 
 Mother — Sabbath Musings — Am Castles. 
 
 §UNDAY morning opened with a drizzle — some- 
 thing between a fog and a rain. The city had 
 doffed much of its usual smoky canopy in honor 
 of the day, but it was dark and dripping instead. 
 Seen from the cupola of The Hermitage, even so 
 much as was ordinarily visible had a hazy, dis- 
 tant look, dim and shadowy, on a foggy back- 
 ground. The great dome of the court house 
 looked like a distant mountain of mist, and the 
 statue of Benton in the park pointed to the 
 Pacific in vain — the arm was invisible. On the 
 river the long line of boats looked hke the Flying 
 Dutchman's ship multiplied by fifty, and not a 
 soul on board — the fog and the mist were passen- 
 gers and crew. The great steel bridge appeared, 
 projected in mid-air, to disappear in the murky 
 distance, and the brown, boihng river threw up 
 mire and clay in unceasing ebuUition. 
 
 4 (49) 
 
50 THE GRAY AKD THE BLUE. 
 
 At The Hermitage everything was dripping. 
 Genevieve and her companion raised a window 
 and looked out upon the scene. It was dripping 
 from the eaves above them in tinkling drops 
 upon the metallic roof of the conservatory. It 
 v.^as dripping from the porches and the ivies about 
 their columns ; dripping from the fences and the 
 great arched gate- way; from every tree and shrub 
 and flower; from arbor, and vine, and trellis, and 
 from the fowls, which crept beneath the ever- 
 greens for shelter, and the drooping pigeons on 
 the dove-cote. It was dripping everywhere. 
 
 ^' Oh, isn't it too bad ! " said Jane, turning with 
 a look of vexation to Genevieve. 
 
 ''The weather ? Why, we are not going out." 
 
 "No; but " 
 
 "But you think the gentlemen wiU not come 
 out to dinner ? Yes, they wiU." 
 
 "In aU this rain?" 
 
 "It is not raining, and the road is fine ; — it is 
 only mist." 
 
 ' ' Who did the doctor say was coming besides 
 Captain Adams ? " 
 
 "I didn't hear the other's name." 
 
 " Ah, Vieve ! You can hear but one name." 
 
 "No, when no other is mentioned. I remem- 
 
MISS waterbury's letter. 51 
 
 ber, now, the doctor said Captain Adams and a 
 friend ; he did not speak his name." 
 
 " Well, well ; you are right, Vieve — and now I 
 must write to mother." 
 
 And this was Miss Waterbury's letter : 
 
 The Hermitage, 
 
 St. Louis (Mo.) P. O. 
 My Dear Mother : Such a strange thing has hap- 
 pened ! I scarcely slept all night for thinking of it. 
 Dr. Chartervale owns The Hermitage, and I will write 
 to you about it and him some other time. His wife is 
 Genevieve Cauldwell's cousin, and I came here by 
 invitation of Vieve to spend Sunday. Poor Mrs. 
 Chartervale is deaf and dumb and blind ! She can only 
 communicate by telegraph, and keeps a girl to interpret 
 for her. Well, I was introduced to her — Mrs. Charter- 
 vale — by telegraph, and she asked for my full name ; and 
 when she learned what it was, she said that was my 
 mother's name^ too ! I told her it was. And then she 
 told my father's name, and said she was at your weddinij. 
 Oh, isn't it wonderful ? I was so surprised and delight- 
 ed that I behaved strange, and could hardly speak. 
 When I asked if my mother might call and see her, she 
 said she would be delighted to have you come. Oh, dear 
 me ! it seems impossible that all our troubles are about to 
 end by the help of this poor deaf and blind lady. She is 
 a lady, mother ; — and I am sure she knows all about your 
 marriage, and my birth, and my father's death, and my 
 kinsfolk in Ohio. Do have Uncle Langdon send you 
 here to see Mrs. Chartervale, right away. I can hardly 
 
52 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 wait. It will be vacation at Monticello about the time 
 you would get here, and I might go home with you. 
 Please ask Uncle Langdon about it, and have him come 
 with you if possible. The Hermitage is like a palace, and 
 the good Dr. Chartervale will give you a warm welcome 
 as long as you choose to stay. 
 
 Remember ! Mrs, Chartervale was at your wedding, 
 and she knows all about it. Take a carriage at the wharf, 
 and tell the driver to take you to The Hermitage. The 
 drivers all know where it is. 
 
 Your loving daughter, 
 
 Jane L. Watkebuby. 
 
 By the time breakfast was over the mist had 
 blown away, the sun shone out, and the ruddy 
 beams were kissing the shining drops from leaves 
 and flowers with promise of a pleasant day. 
 From the city in the distance — over Benton Park 
 and over Shaw's Garden — that wonderful garden 
 — through the calm June atmosphere the Sabbath 
 bells were heard at The Hermitage. An unwont- 
 ed silence prevailed, measured and emphasized by 
 the song of birds near by and the far-off bass of 
 an occasional steamer's signal, mellowed by 
 distance into music. Genevieve and her compan- 
 ion sat upon a balcony, musing in silence, in full 
 sympathy with the scenes about them, each busy 
 with her own thoughts — not uttering and not 
 meaning ever to speak them to each other. 
 
MUSINGS AND AIR CASTLES. 53 
 
 "How strange," thought Jane, "how passing 
 strange ! that I should find in this queenly-look- 
 ing lady — deaf, dumb and blind though she be — 
 the one witness in all the world who can wipe 
 away the shame which has so long overshadowed 
 my mother and myself. From my very birth my 
 name has been tainted. For my good uncle's 
 sake talkers have kept silent and have permitted 
 me to wear my father's name ; but too long and 
 too often have I borne their looks of taunt and 
 words of inuendo. Thank God ! it is almost end- 
 ed. And my mother, scorned by my Yankee 
 uncle in Ohio, and pitied by her kindred at home 
 — that, too, will be ended. Oh, I can hardly 
 believe it is real. My father's estate will be mine, 
 though I count that as nothing — meaner than 
 nothing — beside the proud privilege of wearing 
 his name in the face of all the world ! " 
 
 While these thoughts were filling the mind of 
 Jane, Genevieve was building castles in the air 
 and overturning them with her own hands ! 
 
 "How I wish he had never been a Federal 
 soldier ! My brother will not be silent — no, 
 never ! He hates them all with an utter hatred. 
 
 But he has never seen him, or he might 
 
 And yet I once hated them myself. They burned 
 
54 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 my father's house and drove my panic-stricken 
 mother, with me as a babe in her arms, to the 
 shelter of the earth and sky. They had nearly 
 roasted my wounded brother ahve, and they 
 burned his servant to death. But those men 
 were cotton thieves ; he was not there. He is 
 too noble for rapine or pillage. Strange that he 
 should have looked so lovingly upon me ! And 
 stranger still that my proud heart should care for 
 it. But, then, my brother — he would never, 
 never consent that " 
 
 *' What are you dreaming about, Vieve ?" here 
 exclaims Jane, whose musings have suddenly 
 ended. "Your face looks dreamy as a sleep- 
 walker's." 
 
 "Look in a glass, Jane, and behold your own," 
 rephed Genevieve ; "I declare I never saw you 
 look so happy before ! " 
 
 And neither makes further reply. But their 
 eyes are bent upon two gentlemen on horseback 
 who are coming down the road and up the slope 
 to the gate before the stables. The gentlemen 
 ride in as if familiar with the place, and the 
 young ladies go inside, the one saying, "I told 
 you they would come," and the other, "You 
 need not tell me which is he : I know." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Batteries op War, op Galvanism, and op Love — Union 
 AND Confederate — How Genevieve came to Reject 
 THE Captain's Offer. 
 
 tgvR. Chartervale received his guests with his 
 JS/ usual cordial welcome, and seated them in 
 the hbrary, looking out upon shrubs and flowers 
 that appeared to almost laugh in the June sun- 
 shine after their dripping morning. Captain 
 Adams had introduced his friend as Major 
 Dabny, formerly of the Confederate army. 
 
 ^' Your name has shrunken much in becoming 
 Anghcized, Major," said the doctor. "Before 
 your Virginia ancestors pronounced it Dabny 
 your EngUsh ones called it Daubeny, and yom- 
 Swiss ones D'Aubigne." 
 
 "Indeed!" rephed the major, with a laugh. 
 " My ancestors were Virginians ; but I was not 
 aware that they and their name descended from 
 the land of the hero Tell. And the Swiss govern,- 
 ment is confederate ; I hke that." 
 
 (55) 4 
 
66 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 "And how does it happen that I owe the 
 pleasure of your presence and acquaintance to so 
 ardent a Union soldier as Captain Adams ? " 
 
 " Oh, that's easily explained. He assured me 
 you did not know the difference between a 
 Federal and a Confederate soldier, and esteemed 
 both of them." 
 
 "Certainly," rephed the doctor; "they are 
 both equally my fellow-countrymen, and both 
 behoved they were right. Why should there be 
 any difference in my esteem for them ? " 
 
 Cigars were passed, and captain and major 
 each took a hght ; but the doctor, who would 
 rather talk than smoke, continued : 
 
 " You see, this matter of war, terrible as it is, 
 is, after aU, only the last argument when men 
 differ on great vital questions beyond the 
 possibility of peaceful settlement. When two so 
 differ it is a fight ; when many differ with the 
 great mass it is insurrection ; and when the con- 
 test is between a multitude and the organized 
 government it is rebelhon — if it fails, or revolu- 
 tion — when it succeeds." 
 
 " Then you think, Doctor, that we Confeder- 
 ates were rebels ? " asked the major, with an 
 assenting smile. 
 
UNION AND CONFEDERATE. 57 
 
 " Certainly ; you failed, and so did not rise 
 above rebellion." 
 
 ''But you admit that we believed in the 
 righteousness of our cause ? " 
 
 "Certainly, agam. But it was a question of 
 power, not of right." 
 
 And here Captain Adams put in : 
 
 "But you were a surgeon in the Union army, 
 Doctor; of course you beheved it was fighting for 
 the right. " 
 
 "I so believed, of course. But I know that 
 the great body of Confederates believed the same 
 thing as to their side of the argument. I had no 
 enmity. I was connected with a great national 
 issue which could be decided in no way but by 
 war. Now it is decided forever ; and I say, with 
 General Grant, ' Let us have peace ! " 
 
 Major Dabny laughed outright. This way of 
 looking at the most terrible war of all history 
 was new to him. After a half dozen short, quick 
 puffs at his cigar, he asked : 
 
 "But, Doctor, if that bloody struggle decided 
 nothing, how are we ever to know which side 
 was right, after all ? " 
 
 "If you refer to absolute right," replied the 
 doctor, "we never can know, though each may 
 
5S THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 be satisfied for himself. But the struggle did 
 decide something ; it decided which side was the 
 strongest in such a maimer as to end all strife on 
 those issues, and make war about them hereafter 
 forever impossible." 
 
 ''It was a fearful price, Doctor, for such a 
 settlement as that ; you know how fearful, as you 
 were a Union surgeon. " 
 
 ''I beg your pardon. Major. It was only fear- 
 ful because the agony and death which should 
 have covered a generation were crushed into 
 four bloody years. More than half who died in 
 battle only hastened their departufe a few brief 
 years at most. There is equal agony — if less 
 bloodshed— around the beds of the millions who 
 die amid the wailing of surrounding friends ; 
 and most of them die to no purpose. War aggre- 
 gates death, but it works out great purposes in 
 social evolution which can come from no other 
 agency." 
 
 *'I am not quite ready to agree with your 
 view, Doctor," said Captain Adams. "There is a 
 right and a wrong side to aU questions. Do you 
 suppose it could have been possible for you or 
 me to have gone to war to maintain the slave 
 system ? " 
 
AN ANIMATED DISCUSSION. 69 
 
 *' Yes ; a man of your temper would go to war 
 for conscience' sake on either side of any great 
 question. Which side would depend on your 
 associations, your training, your education, and 
 
 all those environments which give color to the 
 opinions of all men. Had you been born in 
 Charleston, you would have been a Carohnian ; 
 had you been a Carohnian, you would have been 
 subject to all the influences upon thought, charac- 
 ter and mental training which drove South 
 Carohna into rebeUion. Only a man in a miUion 
 can rise above his environments." 
 
 "Well, Doctor, on the question of slavery I 
 think I should have been that man of a miUion." 
 
 "Very possibly. But in South Carohna you 
 would have been a States Rights Democrat, ready 
 to fight for your principles to the bitter end. 
 Have another cigar ; no ? Then, let us adjourn 
 to the parlor, where there are some young ladies, 
 good Confederates, and ready to justify the 
 rebeUion." 
 
 Captain Adams was received by Genevieve 
 with kindly recognition, and with a composure 
 which gave not the slightest indication of her real 
 feelings. To Major Dabny she said : 
 
 "Your military title, Major, gives the He to at 
 
60 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 least one charge which I hear so often made — in 
 half jest : that there was no officer below the 
 grade of colonel in the Confederate army." 
 
 "Yes," responded the major, ''there was one 
 major, and I am he." 
 
 Miss Waterbury had intended to watch very 
 closely the expression on Genevieve's face on 
 coming into the presence of Captain Adams. 
 She forgot it, and her own face betrayed almost 
 confusion, so that the major looked curiously 
 from her to the captain, and then again at Miss 
 Jane, wondering what caused it. 
 
 "You reside in Mississippi, I believe. Miss 
 Waterbury ? " he said. 
 
 "Yes, sir," she replied, in a half -stammer- 
 ing way; "but I was never compelled to fly 
 from Yankee fire and sword, like Miss Cauld- 
 weU." 
 
 The major wondered why she pressed the war 
 experiences of Genevieve upon him ; but, turning 
 to Miss Cauldwell, he asked : 
 
 " And were you really a victim of the horrors 
 of war ? You must have been a very young one, 
 indeed." 
 
 " I was a babe in my mother's arms at Prentiss 
 on that memorable September night in 1862." 
 
REMINISCENCES OF THE WAR. 61 
 
 "Oh, yes; the Federals found it necessary to 
 burn the town, I remember." 
 
 " And do you say that ? How could it be any- 
 thing but wanton devastation ? " 
 
 "My dear," interposed Dr. Chartervale, "the 
 Union army did not make war upon non-com- 
 batants ; they sought only to subdue, not to 
 destroy. I have forgotten just why Prentiss was 
 burned, but there must have been some strate- 
 gical reason for it." 
 
 " Perhaps there was; but did that demand that 
 they should burn the house over the head of my 
 woimded brother — unable to escape ? or that they 
 should roast to death poor Charley in the jail." 
 
 " Pardon me. Miss Genevieve," here interposed 
 Captain Adams, with great deference ; "but this 
 was the justification : Prentiss was the hiding- 
 place of guerrilla bands, from whence they fired 
 upon our passing boats, and when we landed to 
 suppress them they ran away. When we could 
 bear this no longer, and when four of our men 
 had been shot down from the shore, after warn- 
 ing the inhabitants that this must cease or their 
 town be burned, we destroyed it in seK-defense. 
 We landed, gave the residents of the town two 
 hours in which to move, and, not knowmg there 
 
62 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 were any unable to leave, we fired the town. As 
 to your brother's servant, Charley did not perish. 
 He is now in my employ, and may be seen any 
 day at St. Louis." 
 
 " And I beg your pardon," retorted Genevieve, 
 her eyes flashing fire. You say we; can it be 
 possible, Captain Adams, that even you had a 
 hand in that cowardly act ? " 
 
 "That is what is called the argumentum ad 
 hominem, I beheve," repHed the captain, with a 
 smile ; " of course I can not answer it," (though 
 he looked nowise disconcerted). 
 
 Genevieve colored very slightly, smiled, and 
 said : 
 
 "I think we burned a Pennsylvania town or 
 two for you. Captain Adams, and got even." 
 
 "Thank you! I had forgotten that. How 
 much easier it is to offset one wrong with another 
 than to justify either." 
 
 " But our folks assert, Captain," said Major 
 Dabny, " that your side was only making cotton- 
 steahng expeditions down the river, and that 
 when you burned the town your boat was at that 
 very time loaded with stolen cotton. How was 
 that?" 
 
 "Cotton was contraband of war, and lawful 
 
COTTON STEALING. 63 
 
 prey," interposed Dr. Chartervale. "With the 
 Confederates it was as much a means of warfare 
 as gunpowder ; for they bought arms and am- 
 munition with it." 
 
 '^ Yes," rephed the captain ; *' and though there 
 was some cotton steahng on private account, it 
 was punished when proven. The very officer 
 who commanded the boat which you say was en- 
 gaged in cotton steahng was compelled to resign, 
 it is alleged, to avoid a trial on a charge of that 
 kind." 
 
 All this time Miss Waterbury kept silent. Her 
 usual vivacity appeared to have abandoned her, 
 and she looked at Captain Adams with a rapt 
 attention, as if she had forgotten herself. In fact, 
 she was thinking of what she had said of his 
 father to Genevieve, — ^that he was a grand old 
 man ; and she was envious of what she con- 
 sidered Genevieve's good fortune in having favor- 
 ably impressed this admirable Union soldier. 
 Major Dabny, seeing her abstraction, and disposed 
 to drop discussion of the war, said to her : 
 
 "We have had war enough, haven't we. Miss 
 Waterbury ? Let us wander through this palace 
 ' hermitage ' until the grass dries so that we may 
 go out." He went with her — at the doctor's 
 
64 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 suggestion— to the cupola, to get a distant view. 
 But Captain Adams took Genevieve to the labora- 
 tory, to show her, as he said, a very interesting 
 experiment. Ten days before he had told Dr. 
 Chartervale that he had some small rare French 
 engravings, illustrating some difficult problems in 
 engineering, of which he desired to multiply 
 printed copies ; and the doctor had suggested the 
 copying of them by the electrotype process, and 
 instructed him how to proceed. He had then 
 gone down into the laboratory, and having no 
 other engraving at hand, had taken a half dollar 
 note of fractional currency from his pocket, 
 gummed it onto a bit of glass, dusted the face of 
 the note with plumbago, and put it into the 
 battery to deposit copper upon its face. This he 
 now took from the battery in Genevieve's pres- 
 ence, and showed her a perfect copy in copper of 
 the half-dollar. Genevieve was studying chemis- 
 try at Monticello, and was highly interested in the 
 result of this beautiful experiment. She exam- 
 ined it carefully, and said : 
 
 "Very beautiful, and very perfect! But one 
 corner appears to be gone." 
 
 "Yes, I cut off a corner of the note to pre- 
 vent accident. If it should now ever fall into 
 
THE CAPTAIN AVOWS HIS LOVE. 65 
 
 dishonest hands it could not be used for coun- 
 terfeiting." 
 
 "Indeed ! Why, would that be possible ? " 
 
 "The doctor says that before the Treasury 
 Department began to flatten the engraved lines 
 by passing the notes between heavy rollers, per- 
 fect counterfeits were made in this way, needing 
 only to be touched up by an expert engraver to 
 be perfect fac similes of the original engraving." 
 
 While Genevieve expressed her surprise the 
 captain washed off his Uttle plate and deposited it 
 in his pocket. 
 
 Then they walked along the laboratory, the 
 captain explaining to Genevieve everything in 
 which she felt or appeared to feel an interest. 
 By and by, short silences grew into longer ones. 
 Genevieve had taken a seat, and, with dreamy 
 eyes, was looking at — instead of through— a 
 microscope. After a silence longer than usual, 
 Captain Adams stooped over her, took her hand, 
 which she did not withdraw, and, in a low, 
 tremulous tone, said : 
 
 "Miss Genevieve, .don't you know that I love 
 you ? " 
 
 Genevieve turned up her face, and, looking 
 squarely into his eyes, exclaimed : 
 
66 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 " Why, Captain Adams ! " And then she drew 
 back her hand. But the captain continued : 
 
 "You did not expect it ; you are surprised ; so 
 am I. It came upon me hke an inevitable fate ; 
 you have become my world, my life, my soul ! I 
 beg of you — I implore of you — permit me to love 
 you ! " 
 
 And then he hesitated, as if expecting some 
 word of response. She was silent, and her face 
 pale and fixed as a statue. 
 
 " Surely you will not scorn such love as I bring 
 you — you could not — you can not ? " he continued. 
 
 Still she was silent, and was becoming very 
 pale. A hesitating tear stood in her wide-open 
 eyes. Then she turned her head away. Once 
 more the captain spoke : 
 
 " I offer you the devoted heartland the faithful 
 hand of one who has never loved before and can 
 never love another. Oh ! speak to me, Genevieve ! " 
 
 She rose from her chair and stood before him 
 white as death, and said, in distinct but tremulous 
 words : 
 
 "I thank you. Captain Adams; but — it can 
 never be ! " And, without heeding his imploring- 
 protest, she walked out into another room and up 
 into the hall. At the foot of the stairs she was 
 
GENEVIEVE REFUSES HIM. 07 
 
 met by Miss Waterbury, who, with a furtive, 
 half -scared look, demanded : 
 
 " Genevieve Cauldwell ! where have you been ? " 
 
 "Come up stairs, Jane; I want to see you," 
 was the reply, and both went up without another 
 word. In her own room, after closing and lock- 
 ing the door, Genevieve said : 
 
 "It is all over ! " 
 
 "What is all over?" 
 
 " I have refused him." 
 
 Genevieve said this, looking straight before 
 her, and not permitting her eyes to meet Jane's. 
 Hearing no response she at length turned her 
 face to Miss Waterbury and saw that she was 
 trembling ! Then she said : 
 
 "What's the matter, Jane Waterbury ? I tell 
 you he offered me his hand and I refused /wm." 
 
 " I don't believe it ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " You could7iH refuse him," replied Jane, look- 
 ing into her companion's eyes as if she would read 
 her very soul. Genevieve sank into a chair; and, 
 with a sudden revulsion, Jane threw her arms 
 about her, exclaiming : 
 
 "You brave, good girl ! You did right — you 
 did right— you did right ! " 
 
68 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Directly, Genevieve rose, cast out all expression 
 from her marble face, mastered her voice with 
 strong will, and said : 
 
 " Come ; dinner will soon bo called, and we 
 must be ready." 
 
 " How dare you meet him, Genevieve ? " 
 
 "I dare anything which is right ; let us have 
 no more of this." 
 
 And both made ready for dinner in silence. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A Sunday Dinner at The Hermitage, with a Spice op 
 War — Grant at Vicksburg — The Return to Monti- 
 cello— A Significant Telegram. 
 
 l^'^ HEN the young ladies came down to dinner 
 \§it^ Genevieve had gotten the mastery of her- 
 self completely. Not a trace of the agitation 
 through which she had so recently passed was to 
 be seen. But Jane Waterbury was strangely 
 vivacious and moody by turns. She was seated 
 by Captain Adams, and fitfully demanded his 
 attention by lively saUies, or silently seemed to 
 forget his presence. The captain, for his part, 
 rude as had been the shock to his most cherished 
 hopes, was made of sterner stuff than to betray 
 his feelings in his face. And these three were 
 each conscious of the deep constraint which sat 
 upon the others ; while the good Dr. Charter- 
 vale and his wise little sister and the blunt Major 
 Dabny had no suspicion that every heart was not 
 as calm as theirs. Perhaps Captain Adams was 
 
 (69) 
 
70 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 an exception to this statement ; did he, indeed, 
 suspect that in one heart there was watchful 
 jealoiisy where he did not even have a susj^icion 
 of love ? No. He only supposed that Genevieve 
 had told her companion of what had occurred, 
 and that Miss Jane's face betrayed only sympathy 
 with Genevieve. For himself, he did not doubt 
 for a moment that he had won the heart of 
 Genevieve, and he resolved to bide his time with 
 what patience lie might until he could know and 
 overcome the cause of her refusal. 
 
 While the dinner was progressing pleasantly, 
 Miss Chartervale remarked that there was a 
 preponderance of "rebels " at the table, and said, 
 in her pecuhar way : 
 
 ' ' I have half a mind to abandon my neutrality 
 and to enlist on the Union side, to make parties 
 more nearly equal," casting a pleasant glance at 
 Captain Adams. 
 
 "Thank you, Miss Annie," said the captain ; " I 
 am looking for recruits." 
 
 Miss Waterbury thought there was significance 
 in this reply, but said nothing, and Major Dabny 
 then said : 
 
 "If we had had recruits enough to make our 
 armies equal, our rebellion would have reached 
 
A SPICE OF WAR. 71 
 
 the dignity of a revolution." Then, turning to 
 Captain Adams, he added : 
 
 ' ' Excuse me, Captain ; I mean if our army had 
 preponderated in numbers, as yours did." 
 
 "lam not quite sure about that even," here 
 interposed Dr. Chartervale. "There was an 
 inherent weakness in your social organization 
 which must have rendered permanent success 
 impossible with you, I think. Major." 
 
 "Do you mean that a social system which 
 includes slavery is inherently wrong. Doctor ? " 
 
 "I mean that it is inherently weak, and con- 
 tains the seeds of its own destruction." 
 
 "But why should the North have gone to war 
 to abolish slavery, if we alone were the sufferers 
 from it ? " 
 
 " My dear Major, there is where all your people 
 were mistaken. The North did not go to war to 
 abolish slavery ; and it required four years' 
 fighting to bring the great majority of the North- 
 ern people up to the final resolve to overthrow 
 slavery, lest slavery overthrow them." 
 
 "Where, then, was the hidden spring which 
 finally precipitated the war ? " 
 
 " In those words of Jesus, so aptly quoted by 
 Mr. Lincoln at Springfield : ' A house divided 
 
72 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 against itself can not stand ' ; this country could 
 not remain half slave and half free, but must 
 become — must become — all free or all slave. The 
 two social systems were incompatible, and could 
 not permanently exist together peacefully." 
 
 "I guess that's so, Doctor," admitted the 
 major ; "and yet the system of slavery develops 
 a warlike spirit in the dominant race. We fought 
 at least as gallantly as the people of the North ; 
 we were poorly fed, poorly clothed, poorly armed 
 — as a whole ; poorly supplied with all the 
 material of war; we had not even necessary 
 medicines, except as some money-loving traitors 
 in your lines smuggled them into ours; our ports 
 were blockaded, our railroads run down, without 
 the means of repair ; we were bankrupt in every- 
 thing but resolution and courage; and when at 
 last we yielded to superior force, there was nothing 
 left but free niggers and ruined masters." 
 
 '' Oh, yes," replied the doctor, with a benignant 
 smile, " you had everything left that we had — the 
 happiest country and the freest government on 
 earth ! Our country is your country, and all that 
 we gained by the final victory we gladly share 
 with you." 
 
 " For all of which," said the major, with mock 
 
GRANT AT VICKSBURG. 73 
 
 solemnity, "make us duly thankful. By the 
 way," continued he, addressing Captain Adams, 
 "do you know that, outside of mere fighting 
 quahties, I do not think so much of your great 
 general— Grant ? You \srere in the Vicksburg 
 campaign, I believe ? " 
 
 "I was in the Vicksburg campaign; yes. 
 What was the matter with Grant ? " 
 
 "Nothing; only he did at the end of three 
 months what he might as well have done in three 
 weeks." 
 
 " You mean in flanking Vicksburg below ? " 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 ' ' Do you know what herculean efforts it re- 
 quired to get that army across the bend on the 
 Louisiana side ? — and in front of G-rand Gulf ?" 
 
 " I know all about it." 
 
 " Well, if you do, it is more than the people of 
 the North know. No history of that movement, 
 which I have seen, gives one-hundredth part of 
 the difficulties overcome in that movement." 
 
 " But I know all about them. I was in Grant's 
 army as a spy a few days before he began that 
 movement. I passed down over the flooded 
 region, over the levee tops along the narrow way, 
 just out of water, across the Tensao Bayou, v^hich 
 
74 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 was a raging flood, and over all the nearly im- 
 passable country to Grand Gulf ; and I reported 
 the route impossible to a regiment, much more to 
 a great army. It never entered the minds of our 
 leaders to suspect that Grant might move his 
 army by that route." 
 
 ' ' But he did do it, you know ! " 
 
 " Yes ; but that is not the point. He could 
 have done it easier when the water was lower ; 
 or he could have marched away from the Missis- 
 sippi to the westward, and then turned east for 
 Grand Gulf, with hardly anything but the Tensas 
 in his way before reaching Hard Times." 
 
 "But when his army did get there you were 
 somewhat surprised, I think." 
 
 " We were awfully surprised ! " 
 
 "And that was why Grant took the route he 
 did. His movement was concealed ; he surprised 
 you, and — you know what followed." 
 
 Dinner and the discussion of the Vicksburg 
 campaign ended together. 
 
 Then the whole company went to the library, 
 where there was a grand piano. Captain Adams 
 led Miss Waterbury to the instrument and begged 
 her to play for him " Dixie," with variations, the 
 niiisic of which he found upon the rack. 
 
REBEL AND UNION MUSIC. 75 
 
 " Not Dixie, surely ! " said Miss Jane ; " that is 
 rebel music, and belongs to us of the South." 
 
 "Not at all. Miss Jane. I agree with Mr. 
 Lincoln, that when your armies surrendered, 
 Dixie became ours ; let it be a national air hence- 
 forth." 
 
 Miss Jane played the piece with a spirit possible 
 only to a native Southerner. Genevieve listened 
 with astonishment. She thought her strangely 
 exhilarated, and she expressed her surprise. 
 
 "Why, Jane Waterbury ! I never before heard 
 you play so well." 
 
 "Very good, very good, indeed!" exclaimed 
 Major Dabny. "And now that you have given 
 them our Dixie, let Miss Genevieve give us their 
 'Star Spangled Banner.' " 
 
 "No, sir!" replied Jane, with flashing eyes; 
 " The Star Spangled Banner was always ours." 
 
 ' ' Let us all come back, then, under its blessed 
 shadow," said Genevieve, as she sat down upon 
 the music stool just vacated by Miss Waterbury 
 and struck the resounding keys, accompanying 
 herself as she sang the grand anthem. As she 
 sang it then, in a voice strong, clear, full of grand 
 patriotism amounting almost to veneration, it 
 was well worthy that calm June Sabbath day. 
 
76 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Did she mean it as a peace-offering to Captain 
 Adams ? 
 
 "I thank you," said the captain. " To me that 
 song breathes the purest patriotism." 
 
 "Possibly it does," remarked Dr. Chartervale ; 
 "but, after all, patriotism is only a quahfied 
 virtue, with selfishness as its basis. And it has 
 its degrees, just as the love of our fellow-man 
 has. With some of us patriotism includes only 
 the State where we happened to be born ; others 
 include a section — the North or the South. Mr. 
 Lincoln, if I understood him, included equally 
 every foot of soil which is covered by the Federal 
 Constitution. But Jesus of Nazareth had no 
 patriotism ; his kingdom was the world." 
 
 " But you do not decry patriotism, Doctor, as 
 no virtue ? " inquired Captain Adams. 
 
 "Not at all. While societies are organized to 
 secure conflicting interests, patriotism will be 
 praiseworthy ; but when nations shall go to war 
 no more, patriotism will be swallowed up in a 
 broader virtue, which will include all nations." 
 
 "Let us get out into the grounds, Doctor,, 
 while the sun is obscured," remarked Major 
 Dabny. " Come, Miss Chartervale, you are queen 
 here; show us your dominions." And he took 
 
MISS ANNIE AND THE MAJOR. 77 
 
 Miss Annie upon his arm, while Captain Adams 
 followed with Genevieve and Jane, and the doctor 
 acted as guide-book for all. 
 
 But nobody appeared to enjoy that stroll 
 through labyrinths of vines and flowers and along 
 inviting alleys of sylvan shade, except Major 
 Dabny and Annie. Captain Adams was disposed 
 to look away toward the city in the dim distance, 
 as if he had lost or forgotten something there. 
 And Genevieve and Miss Waterbury each ap- 
 peared to be holding silent communion with her 
 own heart. But Annie and Major Dabny were as 
 happy as birds as they successively hovered over 
 plant or flower, or crossed from sunny bank to 
 shady nook, and Annie cheerily told their various 
 beauties and recounted her brother's skill in build- 
 ing this paradise over the old slaughter-house 
 grounds. The major was enchanted — not with 
 the grounds so much as with the cheery maiden 
 who was happy in their midst and made every- 
 body about her happy also. And he resolved that 
 this should not be his last visit to The Hermitage. 
 
 At six o'clock the gentlemen left for the city, 
 with many expressions of gi^atification, and the 
 young ladies were left each to her special reflec- 
 tions. 
 
Y8 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Genevieve had learned a lesson sho was never 
 afterward permitted to forget. She had at first 
 been happy in the deep emotions awakened in her 
 heart at her first meeting with Captain Adams, 
 and she had welcomed the feeling with an in- 
 describable pleasure, little suspecting how recip- 
 rocal was the love between them. But she believed 
 that the holy sentiment of love was under the 
 control of the will, and would down at its bid- 
 ding. She knew that a marriage between her- 
 self and Captain Adams was impossible with- 
 out the rupture forever of all those endearing 
 relations which bound her to a brother as dear 
 to her as life, and whose hatred of all Federal 
 soldiers was utter and implacable. But now that 
 Captain Adams had so unexpectedly declared his 
 love and offered her his hand, the supreme power 
 of the will was found wanting. She was sur- 
 prised and startled. Her will was able to pro- 
 nounce their union impossible, but utterly pow- 
 erless to banish her love. And now she found 
 herself only able by that strong will to bear the 
 toils she could not break. Worse than all, she 
 had become conscious that her bosom compan- 
 ion, in whom she had been accustomed to con- 
 fide, was herself infatuated with a strange love 
 
A SIGNIFICANT TELEGRAM. ^9 
 
 for the man of all the world whom she herself 
 would have chosen ! 
 
 But now Jane Waterbury, wayward and fitful 
 in her f eehngs as she had ever been, developed an 
 unexpected pride and power of will. After the 
 first exhibition of newly-awakened love, she had 
 resolutely shut up her heart against all outward 
 expression, and sternly resolved that henceforth 
 no look or word or act of hers should ever give 
 indication of the fire which burned within. 
 
 When the young ladies returned to Monticello, 
 next day, all was bustle and preparation for the 
 exercises of commencement week. The name of 
 Captain Adams was as completely ignored be- 
 tween them as if he had never crossed the path- 
 way of either. 
 
 On Thursday a telegram came to Miss Water- 
 bury from her uncle in Mississippi, as follows : 
 
 Ascertain Mrs. Chartervale's maiden name, and answer 
 at once by telegraph. 
 
 "Oh, Genevieve," said Jane, "read this, and tell 
 me your cousin's name— her maiden name. I for- 
 got to inquire. My mother is surely coming up." 
 
 The message -boy was still in v:aiting, and the 
 reply went off immediately : 
 
 Mrs. Chartervale was Miss Fanny Gwynn. 
 
80 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Commencement week was soon over, and the 
 young ladies returned to St. Louis — Genevieve to 
 remain at The Hermitage until the next term, 
 and Miss Waterbury to await the expected arrival 
 of her mother. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Missing Witness of Mrs. Waterbury's Marriage— The 
 Strike of 1877— Confederates and Unionists Shoulder 
 TO Shoulder— A Room lh the Planters House, and 
 what was found there. 
 
 *g[ WEEK later, when Mrs. Waterbury arrived 
 
 xSl from Mississippi, she was accompanied by 
 
 her brother, Hon. Alexander Langdon, a lawyer 
 
 of some note, who had represented his district at 
 
 one time in the Confederate Congress. This 
 
 gentleman had taken his cast-off sister to his 
 
 home, and had furnished an asylum for herself 
 
 and her daughter Jane, from the latter's infancy 
 
 until the present time. 
 
 These people were received with great cordiahty 
 
 by Dr. Chartervale ; and while Mrs. Waterbury 
 
 was enjoying the reunion with her daughter and 
 
 hearing the sad story of her long-lost friend, 
 
 Fanny Gwynn (now Mrs. Chartervale), from the 
 
 lips of Annie, Mr. Langdon was recounting to 
 
 the doctor the story of Mrs. Waterbury's mis- 
 
 fortimes. 
 
 6 (81) 
 
82 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 In 1860, early in the year, Mrs. Waterbury — 
 then Miss Jane Langdon — had started with a 
 brother for a year's tour in Europe and the East. 
 She had crossed the Atlantic in the same vessel 
 with Miss Gwynn and with a Mr. John C. Water- 
 bury, of Nonabel, Ohio. A very warm intimacy 
 sprung up between the parties on the voyage ; 
 and so warm an affection between Mr. Waterbury 
 and Miss Langdon that she accepted the offer of 
 his hand, and on the arrival of the party in Paris 
 they were married at the American Minister's — 
 Hon. John Y. Mason — in his presence, with 
 Fanny Gwynn and the bride's brother as wit- 
 nesses. 
 
 That unfortunate marriage had been duly cer- 
 tified by the secretary of legation, but what 
 became of that certificate was unknown to this 
 day. 
 
 After this wedding, while all were happy, it 
 was agreed that the whole party should make the 
 tour of Europe and the Orient, including Jerusa- 
 lem and the Holy Land, together. The party was 
 gone over a year. On their return a daughter 
 was born to Mr. and Mrs. Waterbury at Paris— 
 the present Jane Waterbury. 
 
 So soon as it was safe for Mrs. Waterbmy to 
 
MRS. WATERBURY'S MARRIAGE. 83 
 
 travel, the whole party again crossed the ocean 
 together, anxious to be home before the already 
 beginning warfare should interfere with their 
 movements. 
 
 On reaching New York and seeing the daily 
 papers the men were fired with martial ardor — 
 but upon opposing sides. Mr. Waterbury insisted 
 on going first to Washington, while his wife and 
 child were to keep on to his home in Ohio, where 
 he promised to follow immediately. Mrs. Water- 
 bury's brother, however, demurred to this ar- 
 rangement ; and no sooner was Mr. Waterbury 
 gone than Mr. Langdon found means of passing, 
 with his sister and her child, into Eichmond, sent 
 them to his home in Mississippi, and himself 
 joined the Southern army, and was afterward 
 killed at the battle of BuU Eun, July 21, 1861. 
 
 But Mr. Waterbury, on reaching Washington, 
 had caught the patriotic ardor which filled the 
 whole North ; had joined the forces at Bull Eun 
 on that fatal 21st of July, and was there also 
 killed. 
 
 Mrs. Waterbury and child remained throughout 
 the war — and until the present — with the elder 
 brother in Mississippi, and only became certain of 
 her husband's death at the close of the war. 
 
84 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Then she had gone to Nonabel, called upon her 
 dead husband's brother, Henry Waterbury, and 
 announced herself as the widow of John C. 
 Waterbury. 
 
 "And where are your proofs of this strange 
 claim, madame ? " coolly inquired the brother-in- 
 law — now in full, possession and enjoyment of 
 his dead brother's property. 
 
 "Proofs ! " exclaimed the mother, as she looked 
 down at the httle girl whom she held by the hand 
 — this is his child, sir ! " 
 
 "Possibly," was the reply ; "but where is the 
 proof of your marriage ? " 
 
 She had not a particle of proof, and she could 
 only tell her sad story and be sent away for her 
 pains. The man denied all knowledge of his 
 brother's marriage, intimated that the whole state- 
 ment was " a rebel scheme to fleece him and palm 
 off some illegitimate child upon his brother's 
 estate." 
 
 When the heart-broken mother returned to 
 Mississippi, her brother instituted j)roceodings in 
 the United States Circuit Court at Cincinnati for 
 the establishment of her rights. But the certifi- 
 cate of marriage was nowhere to be found ; no 
 clue could be obtained to the whereabouts of Miss 
 
PROOFS OF MARRIAGE LOST.^ 85 
 
 Fanny Gwynn, the only living witness (if, indeed, 
 she was yet hving) ; Mr. Mason, the American 
 Minister at Paris, had been succeeded by Charles 
 J. Faulkner, who had been brought home and put 
 under arrest for aiding the rebellion ; and, either 
 by his agency or otherwise, the records of the 
 legation had been lost or destroyed, and no record 
 or the least memorandum of the marriage of John 
 C. Waterbury and Jane Langdon was to be found. 
 
 The suit was abandoned, of course ; and from 
 that day to the present Mrs. Waterbury and her 
 daughter had been deprived of their rights of 
 property, had their good name branded with sus- 
 picion, and had lived dependent on the gener- 
 osity of the good uncle now present at The Her- 
 mitage. 
 
 "And, possibly, "said Mr. Langdon to the good 
 doctor, "you do not know how bitter a rebel I 
 was, or my welcome might not be so cordial ? " 
 
 "You were born in Mississippi, I think?" in- 
 quired the doctor, with a kindly twinkle in his 
 eye. 
 
 "Yes, suh!" 
 
 " Then you are my f eUow-citizen by the amend- 
 ed Constitution— whether you will or not. That 
 amendment declares that 'All persons born or 
 
86 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 naturalized in the United States and owing them 
 allegiance are citizens thereof and of the several 
 States respectively in which they reside.' " 
 
 Mr. Langdon took the doctor's hand gratefully, 
 and they vs^ere friends from that moment. 
 
 Before presenting these people to Mrs. Charter- 
 vale, the doctor decided to communicate with her 
 himself, and inform her of their presence and of 
 their mission. He went to her room, sat by his 
 wife, took the pencil, and briefly told her of the 
 events which had been recited to him by Mr. 
 Langdon. She was much excited and deeply 
 affected. She declared, as she rattled the Morse 
 key, that she remembered all about it, so far as 
 her own participation in the events was concerned 
 — times, places, days and dates. And then she 
 begged that Mrs. Waterbury should be presented 
 to her at once. 
 
 The meeting between the two ladies was a sad 
 and a glad one. Mrs. Waterbury recognized her 
 long-lost friend instantly, and flew into her arms; 
 and then, for an hour, question and answer 
 passed and repassed between them by the key 
 and pencil, aided by Miss Tyndal and the doctor. 
 
 Mr. Langdon, who was present and heard this 
 conversation as interpreted by Miss Tyndal, de- 
 
GREAT RAILROAD STRIKE. 87 
 
 cided to at once commence proceedings in the 
 United States Court at Cincinnati for the resto- 
 ration of his sister to the rights of which she 
 had been so long deprived. For the purpose of 
 preparing interrogatories for the deposition of 
 Mrs. Cliartervale, he made careful memoranda of 
 all the facts he had learned from her ; and the 
 next day prepared the proper interrogatories 
 and a prcecipe to begin the suit, and sent them 
 with full instructions to a legal friend at Cin- 
 cinnati. 
 
 But there were now stirring events outside the 
 quiet precincts of The Hermitage. 
 
 The whole internal commerce of the Nation has 
 been arrested. The railroads — the great iron 
 arteries which go everywhere and come from 
 everywhere — have ceased to throb ; they are in 
 the hands of their operators, who demand to set 
 the price upon their labor, and throttle all trans- 
 portation to compel submission. Millions of 
 dollars are laid in ashes at Pittsburgh. Five 
 millions more await the torch, at the command 
 of law-defying men, at East St. Louis. Near a 
 score of railroads there converge to the great steel 
 bridge, and all are in the hands of the strikers. 
 All trains are permitted to come in, but none are 
 
88 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 allowed to go out. The vast depots are full of 
 freight, which must stand still — it can not be 
 moved. The tracks are crowded with trains 
 freighted with commodities of great value, but 
 not a locomotive can leave, for no operative dare 
 man one ; and they who will not themselves 
 labor, permit no others to do so. 
 
 The mayor of the city — demagogue or coward 
 — raises no hand to enforce order ; declaring that 
 the torch and the burning of millions will be the 
 answer of the mob to any attempt at coercion. 
 There is no violence, except when some bold en- 
 gineer, bribed at a great price by the raikoad 
 companies, attempts to move a train ; then he is 
 laid low by some striker's bludgeon. The mob is 
 badly armed, but five thousand determined men 
 are not easily subdued. They proclaim their in- 
 tentions peaceful, but vow never to submit until 
 they have carried their point. Any attempt to 
 coerce them will be instantly followed by direst 
 vengeance from the ever-ready fire. 
 
 Some of these raikoads are in the hands of a 
 receiver and under the protection of the United 
 States Court. The marshal of that court, seeing 
 that all the roads which converge at the great 
 bridge are so interlaced that interference with one 
 
GOVERNMENT TROOPS ORDERED OUT. 89 
 
 is interference with all, resolves that his duty- 
 requires the protection of all. General Pope, of 
 the United States army, is called to his assistance, 
 with a few companies of regular soldiers, as a 
 posse to aid the marshal. At daybreak the soldiers 
 cross the river in two divisions, one above and 
 one below the bridge. With loaded arms, and 
 men who, shoot when ordered to without question- 
 ing, they quietly march — each division led by a 
 deputy United States marshal — and surprise the 
 mob. ^' State troops" the rioters had not yet 
 learned to fear. They believe the Illmois National 
 Guard — like most militia — would refuse to fire. 
 But they know the "Eegulars" better, and they 
 sullenly retire. The danger from the torch is 
 over. 
 
 At midnight the governor of the great State of 
 lUinois steals down the railroad in a special car, 
 crosses above the city, and goes to St. Louis to 
 learn how his new soldiers behave at the east end 
 of the bridge. They are doing him and them- 
 selves great credit, and he is satisfied. A number 
 of companies have come in, and with the United 
 States troops are gua rding the imperiled millions ; 
 and they will fire when ordered. 
 
 The vicinity of the bridge is a picketed camp. 
 
90 THE GRAY AXD THE BLUE. 
 
 A Pallman car is military headquarters. Sunday 
 morning, while a bold, bad leader is addressing 
 his CO -conspirators, marching companies of the 
 National Guard file to the right and left, swoop 
 round and arrest a hundred so quickly that the 
 orator stops in the middle of a word. Thirty of 
 those so suddenly captured — the leaders and chief 
 mischief makers — are sent by the marshal to 
 Springfield and to prison. That night, at one 
 o'clock, a squad of six soldiers of the National 
 Guard, led by a deputy marshal, walk silently 
 half a mile up the bank of Bloody Island, capture 
 one of the mob's chief leaders in his bed and 
 march him back to camp, whence he also goes to 
 Springfield and to prison. 
 
 The insurrection is dying. The sullen operatives 
 are subdued, and know it. 
 
 A train on the Ohio & Mississippi Eailroad 
 has found an engineer and fireman ; and with 
 soldiers on all parts of the train — on the loco- 
 motive and on the pilot in front, with loaded 
 rifies and bristling bayonets pointed to the front, 
 moves out. A single desperado attempts violent 
 interference. He is felled with clubbed muskets, 
 and is sent away in arrest ; and the first train out 
 blows its glad whistle and steams away to the 
 
THE INSURRECTION OVERCOME. 91 
 
 eastward. Then another train— and another, 
 and another, and another go out. The Eegulars 
 at the bridge, at the 0. & M. depot, and at the 
 shops of the St. Louis & Southeastern roads, 
 retire ; the Ilhnois National Guards return to 
 their homes, having saved milHons from destruc- 
 tion ; the embargo upon commerce is raised by 
 citizen-soldiery ; the law is vindicated. 
 
 At the suggestion of Dr. Chartervale, he and 
 Mr. Langdon go into the city to witness the effect 
 of the great strike on the western side of the 
 Mississippi. 
 
 The iron works at Carondelet are making com- 
 mon cause with the raikoad men. Other work- 
 men threaten to do the same. Communists— so 
 called— and various lawless organizations are 
 joining the insurrection. The people are every- 
 where in fear of the torch, and the city and all 
 the railroad depots and shops are full of idle, and, 
 hence, dangerous men. St. Louis has become a 
 camp of military instruction, and hundreds of 
 men are drilling and practicing military move- 
 ments and the use of arms. At the hotels, at the 
 court-house, at the pubhc halls, and at every 
 convenient place, young men are marching in 
 squads and in companies, drilled by trained teach- 
 
92 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 ers who have seen service — some in the Federal 
 and some in the Confederate army. All meet 
 now as brethren in a common cause, and Union- 
 ists and former disunionists meet on a level. And 
 this fact being pointed out by Dr. Chartervale, 
 Mr. Langdon expresses his surprise. 
 
 "That man leading the weU-trained band of 
 volunteer soldiers," said the doctor, "was a rebel 
 captain. The men he is teaching were chiefly 
 Unionists. And that other drill-master at the 
 court-house was a Union colonel, and his men 
 were nearly all rebels who were old enough, and 
 the younger men are sons of rebels. 
 
 Mr. Langdon was surprised. He had not before 
 seen this mingling of " loyal " and "rebel " in the 
 same cause. 
 
 At the Union Depot, at the tunnel, and at the 
 west end of the great bridge, were bodies of the 
 same mixed character. 
 
 " On the Fourth of July, three years ago," said 
 the doctor, ' ' the East and the West were married 
 across the great Mississippi by the opening of the 
 iron bridge ; and men of the North and men of 
 the South now join hand in hand to see to it that 
 no man shall put them asunder." 
 
 The subjection of the rioters on the east side of 
 
THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE FOUND. 93 
 
 the river was followed by submission on the west, 
 and the great railroad strike was ended. 
 
 When Dr. Chartervale and Mr. Langdon re- 
 turned to The Hermitage, they learned that the 
 long-lost marriage certificate had been found ! 
 Mrs. Chartervale had remembered that it had 
 been in her possession — just how or why she did 
 not know, — and she had instructed Annie to over- 
 haul her private papers in a certain secretary 
 drawer, and there it was found. 
 
 When the new-foimd certificate was placed in 
 the hands of Mr. Langdon, and he had carefully 
 read it over, he was so elated that he held it open 
 in his hand while he walked the floor, exclaiming: 
 "Well, well ! well, well ! This ends all contro- 
 versy." 
 
 Mr. Langdon now added an interrogatory to the 
 questions to be propounded to Mrs. Chartervale 
 touching this certificate, and asked that this be 
 attached to and made a part of her answer. And 
 then he sent the papers off to Ohio by the first 
 mail since the beginning of the great strike. 
 
 It would be nearly three weeks before the time 
 set for taking Mrs. Chartervale's deposition — too 
 long for Mr. Langdon and his sister to remain. 
 So he went into the city, hunted up a local attor- 
 
94 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 ney whom he knew, and engaged him to be 
 present at the taking of the deposition ; and on 
 the next day left the hospitable doctor and his 
 interesting family for Mississippi. But at the 
 urgent invitation of the good doctor and his wife, 
 seconded by Genevieve Cauldwell, Miss Jane 
 remained at The Hermitage until the beginning 
 of the new term at Monticello. 
 
 On that very day an event occurred in the city 
 at the Planters House of great moment to Cap- 
 tain Adams. While that gentleman was out su- 
 perintending the final separation of a company 
 of young men whom he had been instructing in 
 mihtary drill during the great strike, a man called 
 upon the hotel clerk, showed him a warrant of 
 search, describing room 199^, occupied by Cap- 
 tain Seth Adams, as the premises to be searched. 
 The man was of stalwart frame, very ruddy com- 
 plexion (though he drank only water), with a 
 keen, suspicious eye, and a huge jaw, armed with 
 extraordinary teeth. Ordinarily this man spoke 
 in a loud, brawhng manner, remarkable in an ex- 
 pert detective, as he was ; but he now addressed 
 the clerk almost in a whisper : "I want to see 
 you upstairs. " 
 
 The hotel clerk knew the man as Captain 
 
SEARCH FOR COUNTERFEITERS. 05 
 
 Tyndal, of the United States secret service, and 
 he followed the captain upstairs without a word. 
 
 In the upper hall the detective said: "Read 
 that" (showing the warrant), "and get me the 
 pass-key to 199|-." 
 
 The clerk went for the key, and when he had 
 unlocked the door, both entered, and the detective 
 locked the door on the inside. 
 
 "Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut," 
 now said Captain Tyndal, well knowing that the 
 clerk would not forget the admonition. 
 
 The detective went to a table in one corner of 
 the room, lifted a newspaper, and under it found 
 an electrotype copper plate of a half-dollar United 
 States fractional currency note. He smiled and 
 said: "Just as I expected." 
 
 "Why!" exclaimed the clerk, "you do not 
 suspect Captain Adams of counterfeiting ? " 
 
 "It is my business to find the proofs," replied 
 Tyndal. " The old rule was to presume all men 
 innocent until proven guilty ; my rule is to pre- 
 sume no man imiocent against prima facie 
 proof." 
 
 Then the officer took from his pocketbook a 
 sheet of tin-foil, laid it upon the plate, and by 
 pressing it with the cushion of his fat palm took 
 
96 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 a good impression of the plate upon the foil, 
 which he then carefully laid away in the leaves of 
 his pocketbook. Then he made a written descrip- 
 tion of the plate and some other items in his 
 book, and wrote a "return " on the writ. After 
 this, both men retired, leaving the electrotype 
 plate just as it had been found ; while the detec- 
 tive repeated the admonition he had before given: 
 " You know me ; keep your eyes open and your 
 mouth shut." 
 
 Shortly after the detective had gone out. Cap- 
 tain Adams came in, took his key from the rack at 
 the clerk's desk, and went up to his room unsus- 
 picious of lurking danger. The clerk gazed after 
 him in incredulous surprise. He had known 
 Adams ever since the building of the great bridge. 
 Nothing could shake his faith in the captain's 
 honesty. He had seen the plate — which only 
 needed a few touches of the engraver's skill to 
 make a most dangerous counterfeiting implement 
 — found in the captain's room. He knew that 
 Tyndal was an expert detective and seldom blun- 
 dered. But he was not quite ready to admit the 
 dangerous doctrine that all men are to be sus- 
 pected until proven innocent. But he was too 
 wise a clerk to risk informing Captain Adams of 
 
UNJUST SUSPICION. 97 
 
 what had occurred, lest his own arrest as a con- 
 federate should follow. And so he kept silent 
 while a web of unjust suspicion was weaving 
 about the captain ; and the detective got credit 
 for some mysterious skill in obtaining a knowl- 
 edge of the counterfeit plate, because the clerk 
 did not happen to know the detective's sister, 
 Miss Judith Tyndal. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The Course op True Love Never Did Run Smooth — New 
 Complications — Dr. Charter vale Holds an Unprofes- 
 sional Consultation — " The Girl's in Love." 
 
 !fgvuRiNG the exciting contest of the past week 
 jSJ with striking railroad men, Captain Adams 
 had had Httle time to brood over his unexpected 
 defeat in his effort to secure the hand of Gene- 
 vieve CauldweU. Now the thought came to him 
 with overwhelming force. In his own mind, he 
 was satisfied that he possessed her love and her 
 confidence. Why, then, did she reject him ? It 
 could only be — as he decided — because he was a 
 Union soldier, and because she feared the opposi- 
 tion of her brother, of whose bitter hatred of all 
 Union soldiers he was well aware. With renewed 
 hope and confidence, therefore, he sat down on 
 now reaching his room, and wrote the following 
 
 manly letter : 
 
 Planters House, St. Louis, Mo. 
 Col. Marshall Cauldwell, Prentiss, Miss. 
 
 Dear Sir : This is the letter of a soldier to a soldier. 
 May I not safely trust that this will secure it at least 
 respectful consideration ? 
 
 (99) 
 
100 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 It has been my blessed good fortune to know and to 
 love your sister and ward, Miss Genevieve Cauldwell. It 
 has been mine to believe — and to have strong reason to 
 believe — that my most devoted and honorable love was 
 reciprocated by her. But when, in full confidence of a 
 successful suit, I declared my devotion and asked the 
 honor of her hand, she struggled a moment with tumultu- 
 ous feeling, hesitated an instant with a face full of con- 
 flicting emotions, and, subjecting her love with a mighty 
 will, declared it could never be I Regardful of her feel- 
 ings, I have not spoken to her on the subject since. But 
 feeling then, and being assured now, that she did violence 
 to her own heart, from profound deference to you and the 
 sentiments you still entertain toward the people of the 
 North, I resolved to confer directly with you. 
 
 I was a captain of engineers during the war, — you would 
 not ask me to conceal it, — and I took part in that contest 
 for which neither I nor you are to blame, — on the side to 
 which my Northern birth, my life-long residence, and all 
 the associations with which I was inevitably surrounded 
 naturally impelled me. But my warfare was always hon- 
 orable, and some at least of your people have cause to be 
 thankful for falling into my hands. 
 
 My reputation is above suspicion ; my family connec- 
 tions good (Prof. Adams, well known in Illinois, is my 
 father) ; my business is prosperous, and I am a wealthy 
 father's only heir. These are formal statements ; but I 
 feel it altogether proper I should make them. And for 
 the same reason I refer you to Dr. Chartervale — whom 
 you know — by his permission. 
 
 And now, with these facts candidly set before you, am 
 I unreasonable in asking that your approval of ray suit 
 
CAPT. ADAMS TO COL. CAULDWELL. 101 
 
 should follow that of Miss Genevieve, when you are made 
 assured of that fact ? 
 
 Hoping for such a response as will, as I do not doubt, 
 make tioo of us happy, 
 
 I am, very respectfully, yours, 
 
 Seth Adams. 
 
 When this letter reached Colonel Cauldwell, he 
 read it carefully, and decided not to reply, but in- 
 closed it to Genevieve with a letter of his own : 
 
 My Deak Sister Vievb : 
 
 Some Yankee captain has written me the inclosed 
 letter. Of course I shall not reply. 
 
 If you snubbed the Yankee because you despise them 
 all as I do, and he is the man he pretends to be in this 
 letter, I honor you. You have shown a just pride and a 
 praiseworthy regard for the honor of our name. 
 
 If you really had permitted the fellow to receive en- 
 couragement and felt some attachment to him, then you 
 are still the brave girl I always knew you to be, and I 
 thank you for your proud refusal. 
 
 Finish your education and come home, and leave the 
 Yankees to marry each other. You will find hosts of 
 more worthy suitors nearer home. Please write to me. 
 Your loving brother, 
 
 Marshall Cauldwell. 
 
 When Genevieve received her brother's letter 
 it did not have the effect he exj^ected. She first 
 read that of Captain Adams to her brother, and 
 was deeply moved. Then she read her brother's 
 
102 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 letter. A profound revulsion of feeling came 
 over her, and she asked herself these questions : 
 "Shall I stultify myself for an unreasoning pre- 
 judice ? Shall I smother my own heart's great 
 affection because there was once war between 
 brethren ? Is pride in the honor of our name, as 
 my brother claims, indeed a just or a reasonable 
 pride ? Are the North and the South to be ene- 
 mies forever ? Captain Adams is at least worthy 
 a rei^ly from my implacable brother, for he writes 
 like the noble and honorable man that he is. My 
 brother shall have a reply." 
 
 She sat down and wrote to her brother as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 Your letter wounds and surprises me ! Captain Adams 
 is a gentleman^ though a Northerner. A just regard to 
 your own standing as a gentleman (of which no one is 
 prouder than I) demands that you should gi\e him a re- 
 spectful reply — in the negative if you must, — but an 
 answer worthy your dignity and his. Surely you will do 
 that for your aifectionate sister, Genevieve. 
 
 In the meantime suit had been begun at Cin- 
 cinnati in behalf of Mrs. Waterbury and Jane. 
 When Henry Waterbury, Esquire, attorney at 
 law, was served with summons by a United 
 States marshal's deputy, and a "notice to take 
 
SUIT TO RECOVER AN ESTATE. 103 
 
 the deposition of Mrs. Fanny Chartervale, a wit- 
 ness deaf, dumb and blind," he first uttered cer- 
 tain words of vexation; and when he read further 
 that said witness ''could only communicate by 
 telegraph," and that he was invited to be pres- 
 ent, by himself or his attorney, "together with 
 an expert telegrapher as interpreter," he laughed 
 aloud, alone as he was in his office. 
 
 But after Mr. Waterbury had carefully read the 
 copy of the interrogatories to be propounded to 
 the deaf, dumb and blind witness, "a change 
 came o'er the spirit of his dream." He was a 
 lawyer, and he knew the questions had been 
 prepared with a full knowledge of what the 
 answers would be ; and he knew that if this 
 should prove to be a credible witness, those 
 answers would make a strong case against him. 
 Could it then be possible that his brother had 
 married while abroad, and that the woman's 
 story told him at the close of the war was true ? 
 Or was this only one of the boldest and sharpest 
 schemes ever devised ? He did not know ; he 
 could not tell. But he at once prepared certain 
 cross-interrogatories and sent them to a legal 
 friend at St. Louis, requesting him to attend the 
 examination of Mrs. Chartervale, with an expert 
 
104 THE GRAY AKD THE BLUE. 
 
 telegrapher as interpreter, and afterward to 
 report to him, with a full copy of all the ques- 
 tions and answers, and such other facts as might 
 aid him in his defense. 
 
 Mr. Waterbury had never believed there was 
 any truth whatever in this story of the marriage 
 of his brother to a Southern woman while abroad, 
 but esteemed it a cunning device "to cover some 
 rebel woman's shame," (as he said), and to get 
 possession of the dead man's property. He had 
 himself administered on his brother John's estate 
 after his death at Bull Eun ; had given heavy 
 bonds according to law ; and being, as he sup- 
 posed, his brother's heir, held the estate in trust 
 for any future legal, equitable and honest claim- 
 ant. Himself and his brother were not on very 
 cordial terms with each other when the latter had 
 gone abroad, and he was hardly surprised that his 
 brother had not communicated with him at all 
 during his absence. And yet he could hardly 
 beheve that so important a matter as his brother's 
 marriage and the birth of his child could have 
 been withheld from him. The fact was that John 
 C. Waterbury had sent his wife and daughter 
 home to Nonabel, as he supposed, when the war 
 excitement diverted his own steps to Washington 
 
MRS. CHARTERVALE AS A WITNESS. 105 
 
 and to his death at Bull Eun. But of these facts 
 — well known to the reader — Henry Waterbury 
 had no knowledge. It is not to be wondered at, 
 then, that he awaited the interrogation of the 
 witness at St. Louis with profound interest and 
 no little misgiving as to the result. 
 
 At The Hermitage an equal or even greater 
 anxiety existed as to the result of Mrs. Charter- 
 vale's examination as a witness. That lady had 
 become so profoundly interested in the matter that 
 she sent for Miss Jane two or three times a day 
 to come to her room and answer some question 
 concerning herself or her mother. She mused for 
 hours over the year she had spent abroad with 
 Miss Langdon,— now Mrs. Waterbury, —from 
 whom she had been so completely separated by 
 the war, and whose society she had so much 
 enjoyed. A hundred questions would occur to 
 her mind, which she was now interested in solv- 
 ing, as to the life of Mrs. Waterbury since their 
 separation ; and by the time she had asked and 
 obtained answers to a long hst of these through 
 the help of Miss Tyndal, that young woman 
 knew almost as much of Miss Jane's personal 
 history as did Miss Waterbury herself. But Miss 
 Tyndal had something of the detective ability of 
 
106 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 her remarkable brother, and she soon came to 
 perceive that Jane Waterbury had something on 
 her mind or on her heart, which even disturbed 
 her interest in the prospect of an early restoration 
 of her own and her mother's good name — added 
 to the promise of a fine estate in central Ohio. 
 What was it that induced the moody silence or 
 the unaccountable garrulity which came by turns 
 over Miss Jane Waterbury ? The interpreter who 
 stood between Mrs. Chartervale and the visible 
 and audible world, and hence, was able to watch 
 Miss Jane, and did watch lier— under most favor- 
 able circumstances — did her best (perhaps from 
 mere womanly curiosity) to find out. So far, she 
 met with little success. 
 
 One day, when Mrs. Chartervale had inquired 
 if Miss Jane did not feel highly elated at the pros- 
 pect of at last and so soon enjoying the estate 
 and the station from which she had been so long 
 and so unjustly deprived, Jane exclaimed, with a 
 burst of excitement : " Jf comes too late ! " Then, 
 as Miss Tyndal was about to communicate these 
 words, she was rudely interrupted by the grasp of 
 Jane's hand on the vibrating pencil. " No, no ! " 
 said she ; " do not tell her that. Say that ' I bless 
 God that ever I came to her house ! ' " Miss Tyn- 
 
"it comes too late!" lOT 
 
 dal communicated these words as directed, as she 
 looked into the eyes of Jane Waterhmy with a 
 scrutiny which brought a rush of blood into the 
 expressive face of tlie young lady. Jane soon 
 retired, and so ended the interview. 
 
 Dr. Chartervale took an especial interest in the 
 affairs of Mrs. Waterbury and her daughter. He 
 had so often heard Mrs. Chartervale, before her 
 misfortune, relate incidents of the long tour 
 abroad which she had enjoyed with Miss Jane 
 Langdon (afterward Mrs. Waterbury), that he 
 met that lady almost as an old friend. And he 
 had come to feel also a warm personal regard for 
 her daughter. But he, too, had observed some- 
 thing strange in the young lady's moodiness, and 
 saw certain manifestations which he could not 
 quite understand. He had first observed them 
 after the day spent ? t The Hermitage by. Captain 
 Adams and Major Dabny, though he had not 
 clearly connected in his own thoughts the presence 
 of those gentlemen with the change in Miss 
 Waterbury. One evening, while sitting in his 
 wife's room, and just after Miss Jane had gone 
 out, he turned curiously to Miss Tyndal and asked : 
 " What is the matter with the girl ? " 
 "With Miss Waterbury do you mean?" re- 
 
108 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 plied Miss Tyndal, with a peculiarly knowing 
 smile. 
 
 " Yes, with Miss Waterbury. When she came 
 home with Genevieve she was as merry as a lark. 
 I could hear her happy laugh all over the house. 
 Now she seldom laughs, and when she does it is 
 difficult to see just why; and at the very time of 
 all her life when it would appear she should be 
 happiest, she is half the time looking away into 
 vacancy as if she saw some sorrowful vision. 
 What's the matter. Miss Tyndal ? You see much 
 of her, and you are expert in these matters." 
 
 " The girl's in love, Doctor ? don't you see it ? " 
 
 " Fiddle-sticks ! She needn't despair, if that's 
 all. She is really very attractive, and she will no 
 doubt soon be the heiress of a fine estate. Why 
 does she not win her man? G-irls understand 
 that." 
 
 "Ah, Doctor, the gentleman can not marry 
 both of them. " 
 
 " Oh ! And thaVs your theory is it ? Well, if 
 the captain's the man, I can hardly blame her. 
 But I had looked in another direction for the 
 captain, who — you may know — is a great favorite 
 of mine. Does she suspect she has a rival ? " 
 
 "She/^wowsit. But " 
 
''the girl's in love." 109 
 
 " But what ? Miss Tyndal." 
 
 "I beg your pardon, sir. It is all guesswork 
 with me, and I should not have talked about it." 
 
 "Well, well. These moody fits will wear off, 
 I suppose. She and Genevieve appear to be as 
 good friends as ever ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir, I think so; that is where the trouble 
 comes. If one of the young ladies could just hate 
 the other in real womanly style, she would feel 
 relieved." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " replied the doctor, with much ear- 
 nestness ; " I hope there wiU be no hating and no 
 jealousy between them. They have been like 
 sisters up there at MonticeUo, and it would be a 
 sad thing for iU-feehng to grow up between them." 
 
 The doctor went out a good deal troubled over 
 the matter. He hoped there might be nothing in 
 it ; but Miss Tyndal had the run of the house and 
 went about everywhere in it without question ; 
 and he knew not only that she had had special 
 advantages for observing the young ladies and in 
 hearing their httle talks together, but that she 
 had a special aptitude for discriminative observa- 
 tion, and so was likely to be right in her views 
 as to the real cause of Miss Jane's absent-minded- 
 ness. 
 
110 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 In the evening the doctor met Genevieve in the 
 library alone, and undertook to ascertain how the 
 matter stood. After some pleasant chat, he dis- 
 creetly led up to the visit of Captain Adams and 
 his friend Major Dabny to The Hermitage, and 
 then said, playf uUy : 
 
 "You and your friend Jane must take care and 
 not lose your hearts to the same gentleman ; he 
 could not get along with both of you." 
 
 "Indeed, doctor," replied Genevieve, "they 
 will both have to get along without me. Jane is 
 welcome to her choice, if she can have it." 
 
 "You don't mean it. Cousin Vieve ? " 
 
 "I do mean it. Neither of those gentlemen 
 will ever be husband of mine." 
 
 "I should be very sorry to have my friend Cap- 
 tain Adams think so ! " And the doctor said this 
 as if his whole heart were in the words. 
 
 "He knows it. I told him it could never be. 
 I think it my duty to teU this to you, who 
 have shown almost fatherly interest in my wel- 
 fare." 
 
 "But I have invited Captain Adams to go with 
 me on my trip to Pilot Knob, and to bring Major 
 Dabny with him; and I had arranged for you and 
 Miss Jane to go with us. It will be a dehghtful 
 
INTERVIEW WITH GENEVIEVE. Ill 
 
 excursion, and we can make a three days' picnic 
 of it. What am I to do ? " 
 
 " Go, of course. We shall be dehghted to go 
 with you. Captain Adams and I remain friends ; 
 and he is a gentleman, and will know how to 
 bear himself." 
 
 " Thank you, my dear Genevieve. Please give 
 my invitation to Miss Waterbury. We go Tues- 
 day morning." 
 
 And the doctor turned smihng away, believing 
 marriage never impossible between lovers who 
 agree to remain friends. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 On the Iron Mountain Road— The Valley of Arcadia- 
 Southern Sentiments in Butternut. 
 
 §N Tuesday morning everything was ready for 
 the trip to Pilot Knob. For some weeks 
 Dr. Chartervale had been contemplating this visit 
 to Iron Mountain, Pilot Knob, and Shepherd's 
 Mountain, for the purpose of examining their 
 local geology and mineralogy, and he and Cap- 
 tain Adams (who was fond of those studies) first 
 intended to have gone alone to make the ex- 
 amination, but it had been at last decided to 
 make the visit one of pleasure also. And so 
 the young ladies and Major Dabny had been 
 invited to go with them. A tent, provisions 
 for "camp," and other conveniences had al- 
 ready been sent forward, and on Tuesday morn- 
 ing the doctor, with his apphances*-microscope, 
 hammer, etc.— and the young ladies— including 
 Annie— with sketching materials, blank books 
 for pressing and preserving botanical specimens, 
 field-glass, etc., etc.— met Captain Adams and 
 8 (113) 
 
114: THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 the major at the train, and aU were off for a 
 three days' excursion. 
 
 Every mile of the route was interesting to the 
 young ladies, who had never been down the Iron 
 Mountain road. They admired the weU-kept 
 grounds at Jefferson Barracks, but thought they 
 looked anything but warhke. As the train passed 
 straight through the grounds. Captain Adams 
 told the story of the rescue of United States 
 arms from the St. Louis arsenal at the beginning 
 of the war. He became enthusiastic over the 
 success of Captain Stokes in getting possession 
 of the arms and removing them to Alton. 
 
 "And just how was that thing managed. Cap- 
 tain ? " inquired the major. ' ' I know it was done 
 right under the noses of our people ; but I never 
 knew just how." 
 
 "WeU, this is just how," replied the captain, 
 unable to restrain some manifestation of pride 
 over the matter. ' ' Captain Stokes, at the instance 
 of Governor Yates, of Illinois, went to the ar- 
 senal " 
 
 "Who was Captain Stokes?" 
 
 " Captain James H. Stokes was a Chicago man. 
 He conferred with Captain Lyon at the arsenal, 
 and showed him that the arms must be removed 
 
DARING FEAT OF CAPTAIN STOKES. 115 
 
 at aU hazards. But a thousand spies then sur- 
 rounded the arsenal, all on the watch, and every 
 movement was at once reported to the headquar- 
 ters of the secessionists, who were ready at any 
 moment to overwhelm the small band at the 
 arsenal. But Stokes understood himself. He 
 ordered the steamer City of Alton to drop down 
 to the arsenal at midnight. Then he set men to 
 getting the boxes of arms all ready for shipment. 
 He then took five hundred old flint-lock muskets 
 and sent them to be put on a steamer at the city 
 landing to mislead the enemy, and he succeeded. 
 The secessionists seized these old guns and raised 
 a shout of joy which brought from the arsenal 
 nearly all of their own friends ; the few who 
 were left were then suddenly arrested and con- 
 fined, while the arms were placed on board the 
 boat alongside. There were 20,000 muskets, 500 
 revolvers, with cannon, cartridges and miscella- 
 neous accoutrements." 
 
 "Well, you don't say that he got away with 
 them all?" 
 
 " Clean away ! — past the city, and past a battery 
 on the shore, and straight to Alton, twenty miles 
 above." 
 
 "Why didn't our folks fire upon the boat ? " 
 
116 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 "Well — they did not: I don't know why. 
 Probably they did not know what was on board. 
 When aU was ready, Captain Mitchell, of the 
 steamboat — who was true blue — asked which way 
 he was to go ? 
 
 '"Straight to Alton, in the regular channel,' 
 rephed Stokes. 
 
 " ' What if we're attacked ? ' 
 
 " ' Then, we must fight.' 
 
 " ' What if we are overpowered ? ' 
 
 " ' Then run the boat to the deepest water and 
 sink her ! ' said Stokes. 
 
 ' ' 'IHl do it 1 ' replied Mitchell. And away went 
 the steamer, past the city wharves and past the 
 secession battery and straight to Alton, where 
 they arrived at five o'clock in the morning. But 
 Stokes proposed to make a sure thing of it against 
 all pursuit. He rang the fire bells, called up the 
 whole city, and soon had them loading the arms 
 into the cars, and off for Springfield." 
 
 The major laughed heartily, and declared that 
 the whole thing had been accomphshed in splen- 
 did style. 
 
 After awhile the train reached the tunnel 
 where General Jeff Thompson had his fight with 
 a company of the 33d Illinois, after which he 
 
THE PARTY PITCH THEIR TENT. llT 
 
 burned the bridge over Big River to break the 
 railroad connection. 
 
 "And so our side was successful that time," 
 remarked Miss Waterbury. 
 
 "Yes," replied Annie, with a twinkle in her 
 eye ; " General Thompson with his two thousand 
 beat Captain Elliot and his ninety men. But we 
 turned the tables on him soon afterward at 
 Fredericktown. " 
 
 " And for precisely the same reason," interposed 
 the doctor, who looked upon the struggle as a 
 contest between equals. "When Greek meets 
 Greek the result depends upon the heaviest 
 brigades." 
 
 Pilot Knob and the pretty town of Ironton 
 were reached in time for a late dinner ; and at the 
 latter place the party dined at the hotel, where 
 Charhe, the colored man who had been sent on 
 before, reported for instructions. Charlie told the 
 captain (in whose service he was) that "de tent 
 was already pitched tudder side de creek, whar 
 you could see all creation ! " 
 
 /'Tudder side de creek" meant beyond the 
 pretty stream to the southward, near the village 
 of Arcadia. It was nearly a mile away ; but 
 thither all of the party went on foot. They 
 
118 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 found the tent pitched in a rocky, well-shaded 
 nook east of the high ground on which had stood 
 old Fort Hovey, with a magnificent view for miles 
 eastward, with Pilot Knob on the left and Shep- 
 herd's Mountain off to the right and behind. 
 
 The party had hardly got seated on camp-stools 
 for their first view of the picturesque scenery 
 about them, when a httle old weezen-faced man, 
 in butternut clothing and old straw hat, came up 
 and bid them ''Howdy ! " 
 
 Major Dabny took the man's measure in a mo- 
 ment, and rephed for the company : 
 
 "Thanky; purty well. Do you live round 
 here ? " 
 
 Charlie, the colored man, took the visitor's 
 measure also, and turned away with a grin. 
 
 " I live down the run thar. You people from 
 the North ? " inquired the stranger. 
 
 ''St. Louis," replied the major. 
 
 " Never h'yer befo' ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I was here while the old fort was build- 
 ing," replied the major. 
 
 " On the loil side ? " 
 
 " No ; I was a rebel spy." 
 
 The man grinned, as if he had found congenial 
 company. 
 
SENTIMENTS OF A NATIVE. 119 
 
 "But I was here to inspect the fort, on the 
 loyal side," said the captain. 
 
 The man looked from the captain to the major 
 and from the major to the captain, not quite un- 
 derstanding this mingling of "loil"and "disloil." 
 
 "You do not understand us, I see," here re- 
 marked Dr. Chartervale. "We are satisfied that 
 the war is over, and we friends from both sides 
 have come to look over the ground. You are not 
 still fighting down this way ? " 
 
 "No ." Then casting his eyes toward 
 
 Charlie, the old man added: "It was mighty 
 rough on us to lose all our niggers ! " 
 
 Charhe went a little to one side, turned away, 
 and bowing himself almost double, laughed to 
 himself immoderately, shaking all over. 
 
 "How many ' niggers ' did you lose ? " inquired 
 the major, very seriously. 
 
 "I didn't lose nary one." 
 
 Charlie was laughing again, turning his head 
 half round to get a glimpse of the stranger, while 
 his big eyes had a rim of white all round. 
 
 " Then you didn't lose much by the war ? " con- 
 tinued the major. 
 
 " Well, not very much. Squire Townsen' out 
 west h'yer ten miles lost twenty niggers." 
 
120 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 " Did it ruin him ? " 
 
 "Well, no. He makes mo' money now nor he 
 didbefo'." 
 
 " How does that happen ? " 
 
 ''He hires the niggers, and don't have no young 
 ones to keep." 
 
 "Were you about here when the fort was 
 built?" 
 
 '^Iwur." 
 
 "They put all the trees from this high gi^ound 
 into it, I remember. A good deal of wood, 
 wasn't it ? " 
 
 '"Bout ten thousan' cord, I should say, judgin' 
 by the amount of pay the owner got for it, as 
 bein' a loil man." 
 
 "Now, there's a man," said Major Dabny, as 
 the stranger walked away, "who never did any- 
 thing for himself. He was, and still is, a ' poor 
 white.' And he grew up to think only colored 
 men should labor ; so he spent his time hunting 
 and fishing and doing nothing. And now look at 
 him ! — the type of thousands." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Doctor's Excursion to Old Fort Hovet — Genevieve's 
 Discovery — On the Hotel Veranda — An Interesting 
 Colloquy. 
 
 fHE whole party went to the region of the old 
 fort, delighted with the view in every direc- 
 tion, while Captain Adams, at the request of 
 Genevieve, described the fort as he saw it in 1862, 
 while Hovey's men — the 33d Illinois — were build- 
 ing it. General Grant's old regiment — the 21st 
 lUinois — was then stationed at Ironton, close by, 
 and the 38th Illinois, under Colonel Carhn, was 
 at the Knob. It required two or three months' 
 work of a thousand men, and when completed 
 was httle better than a stockade. It was built 
 of heavy timber cut on the ground close by, 
 and was about one hundred yards by sixty in 
 extent ; a vast parallelogram twelve feet high, 
 made of logs in tiers ten feet apart, and filled in 
 with dirt between. And at the corners were 
 bastions mounted each with a twenty-pounder 
 cannon. 
 
 (121) 
 
122 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 "But it was not a piece of your engineering, 
 Captain ? " inquired the major. 
 
 ''No. I should hardly have built an open fort 
 on that spot, with Pilot Knob on one side, Shep- 
 herd's Mountain on another, and commanding 
 eminences on three sides." 
 
 "What became of it?" inquired Miss Annie. 
 ' ' Was it never of any use ? I thought our en- 
 gineers knew better." 
 
 " The fact was, " replied the captain, "we had 
 not engineers enough to go round : there were too 
 many points to be defended. But it did frighten 
 away Jeff Thompson at one time. He came 
 within six miles with his army one night, and 
 then concluded to back out for want of heavy 
 guns." 
 
 " What became of the fort ? " 
 
 "It was abandoned as untenable before Price's 
 raid in 186-i, and the forces were concentrated 
 at the Knob; and during the battle at Pilot Knob, 
 in September of that year. Price's troops de- 
 stroyed the fort. " 
 
 Returning to the vicinity of the tent, Genevieve 
 sought a favorable position for sketching Pilot 
 Knob, while Jane strolled about with the field- 
 glass in hand, and the gentlemen went over 
 
Genevieve's discovery. 123 
 
 to have a close inspection of Shepherd's Moun- 
 tain. 
 
 Charhe stood looking with much curiosity at 
 Genevieve's sketching, when she observed him, 
 and said : 
 
 " Were you a slave before the war, Charhe ?" 
 
 He was a tall, likely-looking colored man, quite 
 intelligent and very polite. He rephed : 
 
 " Yes, Miss. I belonged to Mars' Cauldwell, at 
 Prentiss." 
 
 " You ! Good gracious, Charlie, you were not 
 my brother's boy who was burned to death in the 
 jail— or was supposed to be ? " 
 
 "Yes, Miss," replied Charhe, with a grin ; but 
 I wasn't burnt to death. You see, the Union 
 folks heerd me a yeUin' and a yelhn', and dey 
 chopt de do' lock off wid an axe an' got me out" 
 
 " Why Charhe! " exclaimed Genevieve, in great 
 sm-prise. " And do you know who I am ? " 
 
 "I 'spect I does, Miss. You's Mars' Cauldwell's 
 sister. Seed you often, Miss, when you was a 
 httle one." 
 
 "And how did you know that, Charhe ? " 
 "De doctah's coachman, Tom, tole me 'bout 
 dat." 
 
 " Well, I'm sure I don't know how Tom knew ; 
 
124 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 but the servants know all about the folks, I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 '' Jes' so, Miss," replied Charlie. 
 
 The sun was going down over the hills in the 
 west before Genevieve completed her sketch of 
 Pilot Knob, and Charhe had prepared a lunch in 
 front of the tent. The gentlemen soon came up, 
 and all did justice to Charlie's baskets and bottles, 
 after which the doctor exhibited his fine speci- 
 mens of loadstone from Shepherd's Mountain, 
 cigars were lighted, and the whole company 
 joined in admiration of the magnificent sunset 
 scene. It was early in August — too early for 
 those gorgeous sunsets striped in glowing red, 
 purple and gold, which are not very rare later in 
 the season in the Central States ; but over the 
 western hills was now outstretched a cloud-ban- 
 ner it was a wonder to behold ! The whole ho- 
 rizon above the hill-tops was a background of 
 glowing ether hke molten gold. Stretched before 
 it were streakings of purple shaded with gray, 
 with amethystine edges, and between these strip- 
 ings of fiery red almost too briUiant for the eye, 
 while behind a distant hill-top the receding sun 
 sent out his radiant beams, flashing outward and 
 upward to the zenith and converging in fainter 
 
A MAGNIFICENT SUNSET. 125 
 
 perspective in the east. Pilot Knob elevated his 
 bold peak like a beacon pyramid on the plains of 
 Egypt, and threw his dark shadow far off into the 
 grand vista to the eastward ; while Shepherd's 
 Mountain, now with his visible side in the shade, 
 reminded the young ladies of the fabled haunts of 
 hobgobhns. They professed themselves weU re- 
 paid for their journey by the sight of this glorious 
 sunset, and concluded that "Arcadia Valley" 
 was a dehghtful spot, and all that it was reported 
 to be. 
 
 Then there came the pressing of ferns and other 
 botanical trophies between book leaves, and the 
 preparations for the walk back to Ironton for the 
 night's lodging. Charhe was to remain in the 
 tent ; and as the party were to cHmb the Knob 
 the next morning in time to see the smi rise, he 
 promised to have breakfast ready by the time they 
 came to the tent. 
 
 After supper at the ho.tel, the doctor and Cap- 
 tain Adams took a seat on the veranda outside, 
 while Major Dabny spent the evening with the 
 young ladies in the parlor. The major had really 
 taken a strong hking to Miss Annie from their 
 fii'st meeting, and he appeared to be nowhere so 
 happy as in her society. 
 
126 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 While Dr. Chartervale and the captain were 
 discussing some of the events which had occurred 
 during the war for the Union, an elderly gentle- 
 man, among others who were present on the 
 veranda, gave them very marked attention. He 
 sat with his broad-brimmed hat on, smoking a 
 long-stemmed pipe. His age was perhaps sixty 
 years, though he was still active and vigorous. 
 The doctor and the captain knew from his whole 
 appearance that he was a well-to-do farmer and a 
 former slave-State man. At a favorable oppor- 
 tunity, when it did not seem like intrusion, he 
 said : 
 
 "You two gentlemen git along mighty smooth 
 in your talk, bein' on opposite sides in the wa', as 
 I take it ? " 
 
 ''Oh, no," rephed Captain Adams, not unwill- 
 ing to have some talk with the man ; "we were 
 both on the same side. But he was a surgeon, 
 and attended the wounded of both sides alike, and 
 he's a kind of neutral. He thinks both sides were 
 right (in their own honest opinion), and that the 
 war had to come, and now they should kiss and 
 be friends." 
 
 "Dunno but he's 'bout half right 'bout the 
 matter," said the man. "My name's Thoms. 
 
ON THE HOTEL VERANDA. 127 
 
 I live back here ten or twelve mile, and I 
 was a bitter secesh. But guess I didn't know't 
 all." 
 
 " Were you in the service ? " inquired the cap- 
 tain. 
 
 " Well, no ; but they put me in prison all the 
 same." 
 
 " Who put you in prison ? " 
 
 "Colonel C'yarhn. He gobbled up more'n a 
 hundred of us and put us in our own court-house, 
 sir, under g'yard, in this very town." 
 
 "Why did Colonel Carhn do that ?" 
 
 ' ' He said we was disloil ; an' I 'spose he was 
 right 'bout that. But he told us if we'd give bond 
 for our good behavior he'd let us go." 
 
 "And you wouldn't do that ? " 
 
 " Some of 'em did, but I swo' I'd be cussed if I 
 give any bond. I reckon I was a fool (laughing). 
 I thought the whole object of the wa' wur to free 
 our niggers, an' I thought that would be ruin — I 
 say I thought so. I know better now — I kin hire 
 niggers cheaper than I can own 'em." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose that is so," replied the cap- 
 tain. 
 
 And then the doctor spoke : 
 
 "You are an intelhgent gentleman. Have you 
 
128 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 not now learned that the North did not go to war 
 to free the negroes ? " 
 
 " Good many of 'em did," rephed the old man ; 
 "the abohtionists did." 
 
 ' ' Yes, some of them — not aU. But I think that 
 a large majority — a very large majority — of aU 
 who volunteered in the war on the Union side 
 were not abohtionists. Most of them were op- 
 posed to the slave system of organized society, and 
 a large proportion were opposed to slavery itself, 
 and anxious to see it abohshed — when it could be 
 done legally and constitutionally. But I beheve 
 that nine men out of every ten who went into 
 the Union army were at first wiUing to stand by 
 the South as long as the South would stand by 
 the Union." 
 
 " And let 'em have slavery ? " inquired the old 
 man. 
 
 " And let them have slavery — yes. But slavery 
 and no slavery could not continually exist side by 
 side peaceably." 
 
 ' ' Why didn't the North let us go off to our- 
 selves, then ? " 
 
 " For the very reason which led you to wish to 
 go off by yourselves — self-interest. We couldn't 
 spare you." 
 
THE WAR DISCUSSED. 129 
 
 " Cussed if thataint honest, anyhow," respond- 
 ed the farmer. "But didn't your folks all turn 
 abohtionists bef o' the wa' ended 'i " 
 
 '' I guess they did — nearly all. It was a simple 
 question of victory or defeat. We had to abohsh 
 slavery or get whipped." 
 
 The farmer laughed heartily, and assented to 
 this. Then he asked the doctor if he supposed 
 the North and the South would or could ever 
 again be good friends. 
 
 "Certainly they will. They can not help it. 
 The people of the South have all the blessings and 
 benefits of our free government that we have. 
 We all stand as equals. We must become recon- 
 ciled in the very nature of things. It is injustice 
 and inequality after war which keep men enemies. 
 Here the victors and the vanquished fare alike, 
 and there is no more cause for discord." 
 
 The old man was much moved. He took the 
 doctor's hand, and said : ' ' Good night, stranger ; 
 I believe you are right. I can go to sleej) on that, 
 anyhow." And he went in and went to bed, 
 followed soon after by the doctor and Captain 
 Adams. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The Excuksion to Pilot Kkob, and How it Ended — Poor 
 White Trash— Captain Adams Meets With an Un- 
 pleasant Surprise. 
 
 §EFORE the sun rose next morning the whole 
 party, except Jane Waterbury, had ascended 
 Pilot Knob almost to the highest accessible point. 
 She had halted half way, upon the pretext of col- 
 lecting some fine ferns which she found nestling 
 under a projecting crag in a shady nook, but 
 really because she was fatigued, and did not think 
 the sight of the rising sun would "pay for all 
 that climbing." 
 
 What a sight fell upon their eyes ! Not a cloud 
 was to be seen. A radiant East touched the hori- 
 zon with a golden glow full thirty miles away. 
 The intervening valley, still lying in comparative 
 shadow, variegated with rocks and hills and giant 
 trees and a thousand forms of shubbery, lay 
 beautiful and still, as if silence and rest were the 
 first law of nature. In three directions the view 
 
 (131) 
 
132 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 was unobstructed and almost unlimited, and the 
 name of ' ' Pilot Knob " found its explanation. 
 It was, indeed, a visible guide and beacon for 
 thirty miles around. 
 
 Then the sun came up and touched with splen- 
 dor all the wondrous scene — all the more won- 
 drous because the exultant spectators were ac- 
 customed only to level and monotonous plains. 
 
 "And now," exclaimed Genevieve, "it needs 
 but one thing to make this bright vision complete. 
 Could I but fly to the furthest hill which, in the 
 east yonder, looks fifty miles away, and look back 
 upon this rocky mountain from whence 'ten 
 miles of distance smooths rough Monadnock to a 
 gem, ' I should be ready to return to the prairies 
 of Illinois or the flat plantations of Mississippi." 
 
 "You are becoming poetic, Genevieve," re- 
 sponded Annie. ' ' But isn't the hne you quoted 
 — WendeU Holmes', is it not ? — almost a plagia- 
 rism of the oft-quoted line, ' 'Tis distance lends 
 enchantment to the view ' ? " 
 
 " I declare, Annie," was the reply, " this is not 
 a time for questions of plagiarism. Besides, I 
 leave those things at all times to the critics. Is 
 nobody henceforth to describe the effect of dis- 
 tance because some lucky poet once embahned his 
 
GENEVIEVE BECOMES POETIC. 133 
 
 thought in apt array of words ? Look upon this 
 grand scene ! Is no one else to behold it and 
 praise it because we have chnibed the peak this 
 morning ? " 
 
 " That is all very well," responded Annie ; " but 
 I like to study this mountain close at hand also. 
 Jane will collect the ferns, I the mineral speci- 
 mens, and you may have the poetry." 
 
 This she said with a genial smile which Gene- 
 vieve very well understood, for Annie was quite 
 as fond of the poetical as herself, though more 
 subdued in her expressions of delight. 
 
 "But is this 'knob' a mountain at all?" in- 
 quired Genevieve. 
 
 "That depends," responded the wise Annie, 
 " and my brother will tell you upon what." She 
 knew the geological distinction between a mount- 
 ain and a hill very well ; but she did not choose 
 to appear pedantic. 
 
 " Certainly," said the doctor, as he felt him- 
 self called upon to say what the question de- 
 pended upon. " This fine peak has been thrown 
 up — not graded down ; it was not left standing 
 when surrounding matter was graded away, but 
 is a hill of elevation, thrown up by internal 
 forces." 
 
134 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 ' ' Well, it required a good deal of internal force 
 to bring us up here, and I am now ready to de- 
 scend ; let us go down," said G-enevieve. 
 
 When they rejoined Jane about half way down, 
 they found her with a fine collection of calc-spar 
 crystals which she had gathered in the rubbish of 
 an old excavation. They were nearly transparent, 
 finely crystallized and very unhke the mass of the 
 mountain, which was igneous and not calcareous, 
 and it had come from an interior vein of marble- 
 ized limestone. 
 
 They had now been two hours upon the mount- 
 ain, and hastened to the tent at Arcadia, where 
 Charlie had his extempore breakfast all ready. 
 
 "Oh, Charlie!" said Genevieve, who now 
 looked upon him as one of her chattels under the 
 " patriarchal institution " : "we all climbed Pilot 
 Knob to see the sun rise." 
 
 "I seed it down h'yer. Miss Genevieve, widout 
 havin' to climb any mountain." 
 
 A general laugh was the response k) this, 
 though it was not quite certain whether Charhe's 
 remark was the effect of African humor or the 
 absence of development in the sense of the beau- 
 tiful. At any rate, he knew how to make good 
 coffee, and the boihng pot was redolent of the 
 
RELICS OP SLAVERY TIMES. 135 
 
 refreshing aroma, while the sandwiches, canned 
 fruits, sardines and Sweitzer cheese combined to 
 make an inviting feast to appetites well sharpened 
 by early rising and a clamber to the top of Pilot 
 Knob. 
 
 After breakfast Dr. Chartervale and Captain 
 Adams obtained horses at Ironton for a ride of 
 some miles to examine the exposed rock in a re- 
 markable gorge, and the ladies and Major Dabny 
 arranged plans for passing the day in Arcadia 
 Valley. 
 
 Several hours were spent in the gorge with very 
 satisfactory results to the learned doctor and his 
 companion, when they turned their horses' heads 
 again toward the north. At the outlet of the glen 
 they called at a rude cabin for a drink of water. 
 The cabin and its occupants were relics of the old 
 slavery days. The cabin was a rude structure of 
 logs, consisting of a single room, and appeared 
 almost ready to tumble down, and the clapboard 
 roof let in streaks of sunshine and gave glimpses 
 of the sky above. On one side was a broad fire- 
 place ending in a chimney of clay-daubed sticks. 
 A large half -consumed log was lazily burning in 
 the fire-place, at each end of which was a pile of 
 ashes large enough to have been the product of 
 
136 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 all last winter's fires. The floor, like the hearth, 
 was of clay ; and the whole furniture of this 
 desolate habitation consisted of a cupboard, made 
 by putting rude shelves into a large box — which 
 also did duty as a table ; two bedsteads made by 
 putting rails into the chinks between the logs at 
 one end and supporting the other upon posts 
 driven into the ground ; a cradle made of an 
 empty shoe-box, and two or three wooden stools. 
 There were also a few pots and pans, some old 
 tinware, and some cheap clay crockery. That was 
 almost the entire inventory. 
 
 Inside this ''poor white man's" residence sat 
 the man himself, nursing a two-year-old child 
 before the fire, and watching the pot where a few 
 " roasting-ears " of Indian corn were boiling. 
 About the door three other cadaverous-looking 
 children were playing in the dirt, half naked, and 
 apparently half starved. The little one in the 
 man's lap was pale, and as thin almost as a 
 skeleton. 
 
 When the doctor asked him for a drink of water 
 the man looked toward an old bucket containing 
 a gourd, and, nodding his head in that direction, 
 said : 
 
 " Over thar, stranger." 
 
POOR WHITE TRASH. ■ 137 
 
 The doctor, after he and the captain had taken 
 a drink from the gourd, said : 
 
 " Your baby is sick, I see." 
 
 "Yes; httle Billy's bin sick all summer, and 
 don't git no better." 
 
 "You do not look well yourself." 
 
 "No; hedthechiUs." 
 
 " And the Uttle fellows at the door look half 
 sick, too." 
 
 "Yes, stranger ; aint none o' 'em well, 'pears 
 like." 
 
 " Where's the mother ? " 
 
 "She is washin' down to the run, she is." 
 
 "Don't you know that you will none of you be 
 well while you remain in this sickly bottom ? " 
 
 "Cain't git away, stranger." 
 
 " You'll aU die here!" 
 
 "Guess that's so." 
 
 "Why don't you knock round and get work 
 somewhere, and get out of this ? You can do 
 some work, can you not ? " 
 
 The man looked astonished at such a question. 
 After a httle hesitation, he rephed : 
 
 ' ' I aint no nigger ! " 
 
 " Neither am I," responded the doctor — almost 
 vexed at the poor victim of a bad system. 
 
138 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 ' ' Neither is this gentleman," looking toward Cap- 
 tain Adams ; ' ' but we are not too j^roud to work 
 and to receive pay for it. " 
 
 "Free-State men," responded the poor fellow, 
 listlessly — "free-State men, I reckon." 
 
 At this moment the woman came in from the 
 washing "down to the run," and, hearing her 
 husband's remark, she responded with a squeaky 
 voice : 
 
 ' ' I wish to God, Jeff, you was a free-State 
 man ! I've bin tryin' ever sence the wa', gentle- 
 men, to git my man to move to Illinoy and 
 go to work, but he won't do it ; an' just look 
 at us ! " 
 
 "Does he own this cabin?" Captain Adams 
 ventured to inquire. 
 
 " No — sir-re ! He don't own nuthin' but fo' 
 chillen an' two dogs ! " 
 
 The man showed not the least resentment at 
 this : he had probably heard something hke it 
 before. He only relaxed his face into a lazy 
 grin. 
 
 ^^ Gentlemen, said the wife, after a flash of 
 vexation at her do-nothing spouse, " gentle /?ie7i, 
 can either of you spare me a little tobacker ? We're 
 clean out." 
 
AN EXTREME CASE. 139 
 
 The captain took a small package of "fine-cut " 
 from his pocket and gave it to the woman, asking 
 if that would answer. It was accepted with pro- 
 fuse thanks ; and the gentlemen resumed their 
 ride toward Ironton. When they were out of 
 hearing the captain exclaimed : ' ' Good gracious, 
 Doctor ! is that a fair specimen of what is called 
 the 'po' white'?" 
 
 "Well, no; that is rather an extreme case. 
 That fellow has been left over from . ante-war 
 times. But during our march through Southeast 
 Missouri I saw several cases as bad as this. An- 
 other generation, however, will make an end of 
 the class. The tide of progress, under the new 
 order of things, will leave inost of them to per- 
 ish on the shore of a receding sea which will 
 never return to them. Already such as could be 
 saved are adapting themselves to the new labor 
 system ; and Missouri will probably reap more 
 benefit from the downfall of slavery than any 
 other State." 
 
 When the doctor and his companion had re- 
 turned to Ironton and left their horses, they 
 repaired to the tent in the suburbs of Arcadia, 
 where they found Charlie amusing his white 
 friends by singing a negro melody in a rich, 
 
140 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 musical voice, and to an air like an old camp- 
 meeting tune. One stanza will do for a speci- 
 men : 
 
 " Way down in old Virginny— 
 
 Ho! my yaller gal, 
 Dnr we raise our pickaninny — 
 
 Ha! ray yaller gal. 
 Marster say I don't do nuffln, 
 
 Mistress eay I don't do nuflan— 
 Always in the kitchen stuffin— 
 
 Hi! my yaller gal." 
 
 On the refrain — "Ho! my yaller gal" — Char- 
 lie especially displayed his fine voice, dwelling 
 on the words in long, loud, but plaintive modu- 
 lations, which rang through the valley like a 
 post-horn. 
 
 A late dinner was waiting for the doctor and 
 Captain Adams, and Charlie served them in his 
 usual polite style, happy to have them back. 
 
 The young ladies announced that they were 
 almost weary of sight-seeing and ready to return 
 to St. Louis by the evening train, which would 
 be along in an hour. Genevieve had secured some 
 fine sketches of the surrounding scenery, Jane 
 had a good collection of plants, and Annie quite 
 a good series of the local minerals — some of them 
 rare and very beautiful ; especially, she had a 
 large loadstone from the magnetic iron beds of 
 Shepherd's Mountain, which would hft by its 
 
ARREST OF CAPTAIN ADAMS. 141 
 
 attractive force nearly its own weight of iron, and 
 with which she had much mystified Charhe by 
 showing him how it would turn one end invari- 
 ably to the north when suspended by a thread. 
 In truth, the only one who had had poor success 
 that day was Major Dabny ; he had been mak- 
 ing love to Annie, who appeared to be as insus- 
 ceptible to the tender passion as a bronze statue. 
 She laughed at him, and told him he ought to 
 know — as everybody else knew — that she ' ' was 
 born for an old maid." 
 
 At four o'clock they were all aboard the Iron 
 Mountain train and off for home, leaving Char- 
 he to f oUow with tent and fixtures next day. 
 
 In the evening, as the train slowed up at the 
 St. Louis depot, a man was seen apart from the 
 ever-present crowd, anxiously looking into the 
 car windows as if seeking some one. His eye 
 fell on Captain Adams. He watched him through 
 the window, saw him pass to the door to leave 
 the car, and as the captain stepped out laid a 
 hand upon his shoulder. Captain Adams tm-ned, 
 saw that the man was a deputy United States 
 marshal whom he knew, and f oUowed his beck to 
 one side. The ofiicer exhibited a paper, and said 
 in a low tone that he had a warrant for the cap- 
 
142 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 tain's arrest. After a hurried conversation in a 
 low voice, Dr. Chartervale was called, and telling 
 the doctor that he was arrested for counterfeiting, 
 Captain Adams requested him to go with himself 
 and the officer to the office of the United States 
 commissioner, upon whose warrant the arrest 
 had been made. 
 
 After arranging that Major Dabny should see 
 the young ladies to The Hermitage, and without 
 a word of explanation, ttie doctor requested Gene- 
 vieve to tell Mrs. Chartervale that he had been 
 detained, but would soon be out; and then he 
 accompanied the officer and Captain Adams to 
 the office of the commissioner. 
 
 On entering the office, Captain Adams, with- 
 out being disturbed in the least, — though very 
 much surprised, of course, — said to the commis- 
 sioner, whom he knew very well : 
 
 "What does this mean, 'Squire ? " 
 
 That officer in a perfunctory way took a paper 
 from his table, adjusted his spectacles, looked care- 
 fully over the paper, and rephed : 
 
 " The affidavit charges the unlawful manufac- 
 ture and possession of an electrotype engraving 
 of a fifty cents United States fractional currency 
 note," said the commissioner. 
 
CHARGED WITH COUNTERFITING. 143 
 
 The captain looked significantly at Dr. Charter- 
 vale, nodded his head, and then asked the com- 
 missioner who made the affidavit. 
 
 "Captain Tyndal, the secret-service officer." 
 
 '• Where is the captain ? He should be here if 
 I am to have an examination." 
 
 "It is too late for an examination to-night," 
 replied the commissioner; "we must hear the 
 case in the morning, when Captain Tyndal and 
 the other witness wiU be here." 
 
 "Who is the other witness, 'Squire, if you 
 please ? " 
 
 " Tom Pendleton, of the Planters." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I suppose so. I begin to under- 
 stand the matter now. But I suppose, 'Squire, 
 I can waive an examination before you and 
 give bond for my appearance before the district 
 court to answer an indictment, if one should be 
 found ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said the officer. " I think that is 
 your wisest way. I shall have to hold you in the 
 sum of five thousand doUars." 
 
 "You know Dr. Chartervale ? Will he do on 
 the bond ? If not, I can give you as many more 
 as you want." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I know the doctor ; he'U do." 
 
144 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 So the blank recognizance was filled out by the 
 commissioner, duly signed by Captain Adams 
 and the doctor as his bondsman, and Captain 
 Adams was discharged, to await the action of the 
 grand jury. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 How Mrs. Chartervale's Deposition was Taken— Justice 
 AT Last— Mrs. Waterbury Recovers Happiness and 
 Fortune. 
 
 'HEN the morning of the day set for taking 
 the deposition of Mrs. Chartervale arrived, 
 four gentlemen in a carriage drove up to the gate 
 at the entrance to The Hermitage, were admitted, 
 and came up to the main door, where they were 
 received by Dr. Chartervale. 
 
 The four gentlemen were Levi Stone, Esq., 
 attorney for Mrs. Waterbury ; Job Manson, Esq., 
 attorney for Henry Waterbury ; Frank Tracy, an 
 expert telegrapher, and United States Commis- 
 sioner Slade. 
 
 Dr. Chartervale requested these gentlemen to 
 be seated before proceeding to Mrs. Chartervale's 
 room, so that he might explain to them his wife's 
 peculiar infirmity, and prepare them for the 
 strange business of taking the deposition of a 
 •witness deaf, dumb and blind. They were all 
 
 10 (145) 
 
liG THE GRAY AXD THE BLUE. 
 
 much impressed with the doctor's statement, and 
 went into the presence of the witness prepared to 
 find her a lady of culture and intelligence, not- 
 withstanding her remarkable condition. 
 
 On entering the room of Mrs. Chartervale, 
 while the commissioner was arranging his papers 
 for the business in hand, the telegrapher was con- 
 ferring in a low tone with Miss Tyndal, with 
 whom he was already acquainted. Miss Tyndal, 
 after explaining what she was about to do, took 
 Mrs. Chartervale's hand, — who at once under- 
 stood that she was to receive a communication, — ■ 
 and held up her thumb and finger to receive the 
 signals. 
 
 ' ' I am informing her, " said Miss Tyndal, ' ' that 
 you are all present, and are about to take the 
 deposition." 
 
 Mrs. Chartervale put her hand quickly upon 
 her Morse key and rattled off a reply. The teleg- 
 rapher from the city had watched all this very 
 closely ; and he himself now turr.^d to Mr. Man- 
 son, for whom he acted as interpreter, and said : 
 
 ' ' She says she is ready, but asks if her husband 
 is present." Then he added to his employer that 
 the lady made sharp, distinct signals, and that he 
 could read them very easily. 
 
TAKING THE DEPOSITION. 147 
 
 The commissioner then proceeded to administer 
 the oath to Miss Tyndal and Mr. Tracy as in- 
 terpreters and to Mrs. Chartervale as a witness, 
 through Miss Tyndal. She comprehended it 
 thoroughly, and at its conclusion nodded her ac- 
 ceptance of the oath. 
 
 Mr. Waterbury's attorney was not quite satis- 
 fied, and asked that she be requested to repeat 
 telegraphically, as near as she could remember it, 
 the oath just taken. Immediately the key began 
 to rattle, and Tracy read off the words as they 
 came: "I do solemnly swear that the answers 
 which I shall make to the interrogatories which 
 shall be propounded to me in this case, wherein 
 Jane L. Waterbury is plaintiff and Henry Water- 
 bury is defendant, shall be the truth, the whole 
 truth, and nothing but the truth ; so help me 
 God." 
 
 There was no further interruption. All parties 
 were satisfied that the witness understood the 
 questions put to her by this pencil -telegraphy, 
 and her replies were understood easily by both 
 telegraphic witnesses. 
 
 The first few questions propounded related to 
 the name — now and before marriage — of the wit- 
 ness, her age, former residence, her whereabouts 
 
148 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 in the years 1S59, '60 and '61, and her knowledge 
 of John C. Waterbury, deceased. And her an- 
 swers to these agreed with what the reader has 
 already learned. She had been present at the 
 marriage of John C. Waterbury and Jane Lang- 
 don at the American Embassy in Paris, January 
 5, 1860 ; had been present in the hotel at the birth 
 of the daughter, Jane ; had returned with Mr. 
 and Mrs. Waterbury to the United States in 1861, 
 and knew of the separation of husband and wife 
 —one going to Washington, and the other, with 
 her brother, to Mississippi. 
 
 Interrogatory 20 : " Did you ever see a certifi- 
 cate of that marriage at the American Minis- 
 ter's ? " 
 
 Answer : "I did." 
 
 Interrogatory 21 : " Do you know the contents 
 of that certificate ? " 
 
 Answer: "I read it often, and think I can 
 repeat the words. " 
 
 Interrogatory 22 : " Eepeat that certificate to 
 the best of your recollection." 
 
 Answer : ' ' American Embassy, City of Paris, 
 France.— On this fifth day of January, A.D. 1860, 
 John C. Waterbury, of the State of Ohio, and 
 Jane Langdon, of the State of Mississippi, United 
 
AN IMPORTANT MEMORANDUM. 149 
 
 States of America, were legally joined in mar- 
 riage in my presence and in the presence of the 
 witnesses whose names are subjoined— John Y. 
 Mason, Minister ; W. R. Calhoun, Secretary of 
 Legation. Charles Langdon, Fanny Gwynn, wit- 
 nesses." 
 
 The next interrogatory requested the witness 
 to state how she came to be so familiar with 
 that certificate, and whether she knew where 
 said certificate now was. 
 
 She explained in her answer that the certificate 
 had come into her possession after the marriage, 
 she could not now tell how or why, and it was in 
 her possession still. 
 
 She was next requested to attach that certifi- 
 cate, making it a part of her deposition, and she 
 took it from her pocket and handed it to the 
 officer to be compared with her statement of its 
 contents. It corresponded exactly. But upon 
 examining the reverse face a memorandum was 
 found, as follows: "Little Jane, born at Paris, 
 November 10, I860.— J. C. W." 
 
 Mrs. Chartervale was asked what she knew of 
 any note on the back of the marriage certificate. 
 She rephed that there was a memorandum there 
 —which she had forgotten to allude to— written 
 
150 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 by John C. Waterbury, and fixing the date of his 
 daughter's birth. 
 
 The attorney for the defense propounded but 
 a single cross-interrogatory, as follows : 
 
 "How are you able to identify, if you do so 
 identify, the present plaintiff in this suit as the 
 lady whom you refer to, and whom this certifi- 
 cate of marriage refers to ? " 
 
 "I identify her by many hours' conversation 
 with her, in which she has recounted to me the 
 whole history of our journey together and of our 
 personal intimacy, which included many things 
 known only to herself and me. I am certain of 
 her identity." 
 
 This closed the examination. The commis- 
 sioner completed the papers, put the deposition 
 into an envelope, and sealed it up. Then he 
 du-ected it to the clerk of the Circuit Court of the 
 United States at Cincinnati. When he w^as about 
 to put postage stamps upon it, however, Mr. 
 Stone requested that the document be sent by 
 express, as that certificate was too valuable to be 
 trusted to the mails, and he gave the commis- 
 sioner money to pay express charges. 
 
 It was then agreed, and so indorsed on the 
 envelope, that the inclosed deposition might be 
 
THE TESTIMONY DISCUSSED. 151 
 
 opened in the presence of the clerk by either 
 party prior to the day of trial. This agreement 
 being signed by each of the attorneys, the pack- 
 age was ready for transmission. 
 
 In the carriage, as the four gentlemen returned 
 to the city, the deaf and blind witness and her 
 testimony were discussed. 
 
 ''Is the lady a good operator?" inquired Mr. 
 Manson of the telegrapher whom he had taken 
 out as an interpreter. 
 
 "Oh, yes," replied Mr. Tracy; "she handles 
 the key well, and her reading of that pencil be- 
 tween the thumb and finger is remarkable." 
 
 " I was not before aware that that could be 
 done," remarked Mr. Manson. 
 
 "Oh, yes; the Morse alphabet was at first in- 
 tended to be read by sight, as it was written by 
 the register in dots and dashes. But we soon 
 learned to read from the sounds made by the in- 
 struments. And it is now used for signahng at 
 long distances by long and short flashes of sun- 
 light. It may be read by sight, by sound, and by 
 touch, as you saw to-day." 
 
 "Eather a settler, that deposition, wasn't it ? " 
 said Mr. Stone, looking rather triumphantly at 
 Mr. Manson. 
 
152 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 "Yes," replied the latter gentleman ; " Water- 
 bury will not exult much over it. But he wrote 
 me that if the answers to the interrogatories were 
 what they promised to be, the whole thing would 
 turn on the validity of the reputed marriage cer- 
 tificate. " 
 
 "Well, that's all right, isn't it ? It appears to 
 me to be genuine." 
 
 "Yes, it appeal's well on its face. But we will 
 have to verify it at the State Department in 
 Washington. There was a good deal of changing 
 about in the French Legation at the outbreak of 
 the war and just before ; and we must verify 
 names, dates and signatures. That certificate 
 purports to be signed by John Y. Mason and 
 attested by Callioun as Secretary of Legation. 
 Now, Faulkner was our French Minister after 
 Mason, and superseded him in the early part of 
 1860 — I can't learn the exact dates; and Faulkner 
 returned in 1861, leaving the Embassy records in 
 confusion, it is reported. The official dates in 
 Washington of all these changes will be a test of 
 this certificate." 
 
 " Oh, the certificate is aU right," said Mr. Stone, 
 " and it is better than we knew of before, because 
 it contains an indorsement showing date and 
 
WATERBURY INFORMED OF THE RESULT. 153 
 
 place of his daughter's birth in the writing of 
 John C. Waterbury himself." 
 
 '^ Well, we'll see about that. If Henry Water- 
 bury recognizes that as his brother's writing I 
 think he will abandon the case, "said Mr. Manson. 
 
 Job Manson was a good lawyer, and he well 
 knew the importance of the testimony he had 
 seen taken that day. So soon as he had reached 
 his office he sat down and wrote to Mr. Water- 
 bury, at Nonabel, detailing the whole matter. He 
 described Mrs. Chartervale, gave the history of 
 her strange bereavement, told of her expertness 
 as a telegrapher, her intelligent repUes to the in- 
 terrogatories, the interpreter's assurance of her 
 ready communication by telegraph, and her won- 
 derful recollection of the marriage certificate ; 
 and he called special attention to the discovery of 
 the memorandum on the back of the marriage 
 certificate, apparently in the handwriting of the 
 deceased John C. Waterbury. He concluded his 
 letter by referring to the stipulation on the en- 
 velope enclosing the deposition, agreeing that it 
 might be opened in the presence of the clerk by 
 either party, and recommended that Mr. Water- 
 bury proceed at once to Cincinnati and examine 
 the deposition for himself. 
 
15i THE GRAY AXD THE BLUE. 
 
 Three days afterward, when Mr. Henry Water- 
 bury received that letter, he did not laugh, but he 
 did what a lawyer is not supposed to do very 
 often — he consulted his wife. He told her the 
 whole story, and asked her adyice. 
 
 Now, this Mrs. Waterbury was a '' down East " 
 Yankee ; and though she was living in the man- 
 sion which had been owned by John C. Water- 
 bury, and with her husband had been enjoying 
 the estate of the dead man for sixteen years, she 
 ansvv'ered her husband i^romptly after hearing his 
 statement : 
 
 " We must give it up, Henry. This house, and 
 the farm, and the turnpike stock, and the money 
 John left, is all the honest property of that poor 
 woman in Mississippi. We must give it up ! " 
 
 Mr. Waterbury did not reply for some minutes. 
 Then he said : 
 
 "I will go at once to Cincinnati, Nancy, and if 
 that certificate of marriage — and especially that 
 indorsement — is right (I can't be mistaken about 
 John's writing), I will enter a confession of judg- 
 ment and decree in her favor." And to Cincin- 
 nati he went that very afternoon. On arriving 
 there he called upon Mr. Gazley — Mrs. Water- 
 bury's legal representative — and together the two 
 
MRS. WATERBURY GAINS HER CASE. 155 
 
 lawyers went to the office of the clerk of the 
 United States Circuit Court, and in his presence 
 opened and examined the deposition of Mrs. 
 Chartervale. Henry Waterbury read it carefully 
 through without a word of comment. Then he 
 studied the indorsement on the original certificate 
 of marriage, and knew it to be in the handwrit- 
 ing of his deceased brother. Then, turning to 
 Gazley, he said : 
 
 "This is the most remarkable thing, Gazley, I 
 ever knew. That lady was my brother's wife : I 
 surrender. I have been wrong all the time ; and 
 now I propose to make it right as soon as possible. 
 Let the clerk enter up judgment by confession, 
 and a decree covering all her claims. Write the 
 outUnes of the decree you ^ish, submit it to me 
 in the morning, and let it be entered at once, 
 while court is in session. I will be present, and 
 assent to judgment and decree." 
 
 On the next day this arrangement was fuUy 
 carried out in open court ; and Jane Langdon 
 Waterbury was appointed guardian of her daugh- 
 ter Jane, and Henry Waterbury was ordered to 
 account for and to turn over the entire estate of 
 his deceased brother to her, including rents and 
 profits for sixteen years. 
 
156 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 When Henry Waterbury returned to his Uttle 
 Yankee wife at Nonabel and told her all he had 
 done, she fell upon his neck and wept for joy. 
 Her husband was a just man, and she thanked 
 God for giving her such a husband. 
 
 That night Mr. Waterbury wrote a long, 
 kindly letter to his sister-in-law, telling her what 
 he had done, and inviting her to the possession of 
 her estate and her honorable name so long kept 
 from her. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A Glance at a Grand Jury at Work — The Tell-Tale 
 Plate — Miss Genevieve Makes a Very Unpleasant Dis- 
 covery, BUT Sees Her Way Clear at Last. 
 
 N all free governments organized after the si- 
 militude of English law, a grand jury is 
 thought to be a very sacred institution. It pro- 
 tects the life and property of the citizen ex parte 
 by hearing and giving credit to aU charges of 
 crime against him, and denying any defense. It is 
 organized to convict; and it is as perfectly adapted 
 to that end — without regard to guilt or innocence 
 — as any merely human institution could reason- 
 ably be expected to be. It is much venerated by 
 nearly all law-abiding people, because it is old, and 
 because they know so little about it. Twenty- 
 three good men and true, chosen from the body of 
 the county, can hardly go astray in finding a 
 "truebiU" by their affirmative vote when they 
 hear but one side of the case. And in what are 
 
 known in this happy land as " United States " 
 (157) 
 
158 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 courts, grand juries are supioosed to be made up 
 of the very best men in the district. And so they 
 are, generally. And we are going now to violate 
 the law and admit the reader right into the grand 
 jury room, while that august body proceeds to 
 indict "one Seth Adams" for counterfeiting. If 
 any reader prefers not to witness the proceeding, 
 he will find a bailiff at the door ready to keep 
 him out. 
 
 The room is large, and in the upper part of an 
 edifice built by the United States "regardless of 
 expense " (literally). A long table stands in the 
 centre, around which are twenty-three chairs 
 (when these do not happen to be benches instead). 
 At the head of the table sits the foreman, and 
 near him the clerk — both units of the twenty- 
 three. The other chairs are occupied by as multi- 
 farious a variety of men as can anywhere be 
 found in the same number. Most of them belong 
 to "the regular panel," having been duly sum- 
 moned before the term began ; but a few are 
 "professionals," picked up to supply vacancies. 
 
 The United States district attorney enters. He 
 hands to the foreman a memorandum containing 
 the name of Seth Adams, and stating the charge 
 against him. 
 
A GRAND JURY AT WORK. 159 
 
 ''Gentlemen," says the attorney, " I ask your 
 attention to the case of Seth Adams, charged with 
 having- unlawfully in his possession an electrotype 
 engraved plate for printing counterfeit fifty-cent 
 postal notes, and also with having himself unlaw- 
 fully fabricated said plate. You will find the 
 sections under which he is charged marked for 
 ,your perusal in this volume of United States 
 Statutes. But I call your attention to the points 
 now specially involved in this case. The statute 
 provides as follows : ' The words obligations or 
 other securities of the United States shall be held 
 to include and mean fractional notes ; ' that ' if 
 any person shall engrave, or shall cause or pro- 
 cure to be engraved, or shall aid or assist in 
 engraving any plate or plates in the likeness or 
 similitude of any plate or plates designed for the 
 printing of any such obligation or other security, 
 or any part thereof,' [that includes fractional 
 notes], * * * ' except under the direction 
 of the Secretary of the Treasury or other proper 
 officer,' * ^ * ^ or shaMhsiYe i7i his custody 
 or possession any metallic plate engraved after the 
 simihtude of any plate from which any such 
 obligation or other security' [including postal 
 notes] 'has been printed,' * * * 'except 
 
160 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 under authority of the Secretary of the Treasury, 
 etc., every person so offending shall be deemed 
 guilty of felony, and shall, on conviction, be fined 
 not exceeding $5,000 or imprisoned not exceeding 
 fifteen years, or both.' 
 
 " From aU of which you will see, gentlemen," 
 said the attorney, after finishing his readings, 
 "that it is an offense — a felony — to counterfeit 
 or imitate the fractional currency, for any pur- 
 pose whatever, without authority from the United 
 States ; or to make, or to have in possession, any 
 plate in the similitude of any national security or 
 obligation, including fractional currency, for any 
 purpose whatever. So you will see that a guilty 
 intent is not necessary to constitute the offense." 
 
 The foreman looks wise after these words of the 
 attorney, and subdues any expression of surprise 
 (though he is awfully surprised) that a man may 
 commit felony and not know it or mean it. 
 
 The ''professionals" nod their heads, as if pre- 
 pared for anything. 
 
 The rest of the jury puff their cigars, or pare 
 their nails, or whittle, or kiU time in some equally 
 harmless way. 
 
 " Call Martin Tyndal," the foreman says to the 
 baihff inside the door. 
 
THE PRINCIPAL WITNESS. 161 
 
 Martin Tyndal is brought in, and proves to be 
 our friend of the Secret Service. The jurymen, 
 not knowing who he is, admire his stalwart 
 frame, and await his revelations. 
 
 "Be sworn," says the foreman. The captain 
 takes the oath. 
 
 "What is your name, residence and occupa- 
 tion?" 
 
 "Martin Tyndal ; I live at St. Louis at present, 
 and am in the service of the government." 
 
 His loud, clear-cut, sonorous reply excites the 
 admiration of the jurors, except the professionals ; 
 they know the captain, and that his presence 
 means trouble for some one. 
 
 "Do you know Seth Adams?" inquired the 
 foreman. 
 
 " I do ; have known him several years." 
 
 "Did you find a counterfeit fifty-cent plate in 
 his possession ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "Within a month." 
 
 ' ' Where ? " (This particular foreman is a model 
 
 of his kind. He drives straight to the point in 
 
 the fewest words.) 
 
 "At the Planters House, in this city." 
 11 
 
162 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 "Tell US all about it, if you please." 
 
 The captain relates his visit to Captain Adams' 
 room with the hotel clerk, his finding the plate 
 and taking an impression from it in tin-foil, etc. 
 The clerk, who is writing down the testimony, 
 stops the captain's vehemence occasionally, so 
 that he may get down his words. 
 
 "What became of the plate?" asks the fore- 
 man. 
 
 "I left it in Captain Adams' room, just as I 
 fomid it." 
 
 " What became of the tin-foil impression you 
 spoke of ? " 
 
 " I have it here, sir," replies the captain, as he 
 takes it from his pocketbook and hands it to the 
 foreman. 
 
 The whole jury leave their seats and crowd 
 around the foreman to get a sight of the bit of 
 tin-foil. The captain takes a half-dollar note and 
 a microscope from his pocket, hands them to the 
 foreman, and says : 
 
 ' ' Compare the lines on the note with the lines 
 on the plate : it is a perfect copy." 
 
 "One corner of the plate is missing," says a 
 juror. 
 
 "No odds," says another, who means to be a 
 
THE TIN-FOIL IMPRESSION. 163 
 
 lawyer some day ; "it's an offense, all the same, 
 to counterfeit part of a note." 
 
 " Why did you leave the plate in the counter- 
 feiter's room ? " asks an old gray-haired juror. 
 
 " To give him time to finish the plate, sir," 
 replies the witness. 
 
 "Is that all you know about the case?" in- 
 quires the foreman. 
 
 "Yes, sir ; that's all," replies the witness. 
 
 "Gentlemen of the grand jury, do any of you 
 wish to question this witness ? " inquires the fore- 
 man, looking down the table. 
 
 A modest old man, who has not before been on 
 any jury, and who is so constituted as to believe 
 that a man should not be compelled to stand trial 
 for felony who is not even charged with inten- 
 tional wrong, ventures to inquire : 
 
 "Had you any other proof that the accused 
 gentleman had that plate in his possession, more 
 than that you found it in his room, and during 
 his absence ? " 
 
 " The witness hesitates ; a very unusual thing 
 for him to do. At length he answers : 
 
 "I think I have, sir; but I can not state it now, 
 because it will interfere with the ends of justice 
 in some other cases." 
 
164 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 The clerk has written down all these questions 
 and answers, and he reads them to the witness. 
 The witness puts his name to the paper, and the 
 foreman tells him he may retire. 
 
 Then the foreman calls for the only other wit- 
 ness, — Thomas Pendleton, clerk at the Planters 
 House, — who is sworn, and corroborates Captain 
 Tyndal's evidence as to the finding of the electro- 
 type-plate in the room of Captain Adams. 
 
 The foreman takes the vote of the jurymen : 
 ''Is this bill a true bill?" And all vote in the 
 affirmative, excej^t the modest old man who asked 
 the foohsh question. 
 
 The foreman indorses on the paper the words : 
 "A true bill," and the job is done. It needs only 
 that the district attorney shall draw up the in- 
 dictment in due form, and a man innocent of any 
 evil intention, and of anything evil in fact, is put 
 upon his trial for felony ! 
 
 On the evening when Captain Adams had been 
 arrested, a newspajDer reporter, ever on his watch, 
 had gone to the commissioner's office in search of 
 an item. He found it in Captain Adams' arrest 
 and being bound over to await the action of the 
 grand jury on the charge of counterfeiting. And 
 the first person at The Hermitage to read that 
 
MISS CAULDWELL CONSULTS THE DOCTOR. 165 
 
 item next morning'was Miss Genevieve Cauldwell. 
 She was as if thunder struck. But she took the 
 paper into the Hbrary, and, showing the item to 
 Dr. Chartervale, asked him what it could mean. 
 
 ' ' It means, " rephed the doctor, ' ' that my friend 
 Adams has been imprudent. I told him how I 
 thought he might multiply printed copies of some 
 small engraved plans ; he tried the experiment to 
 learn how it would work on a postal half-dollar. 
 It succeeded, but too well. Without telling me 
 at the time, he took it to his room (for he did the 
 work in my laboratory), and left it on his table. 
 The chamber-maid, or some one else, informed 
 the government detective, and his room was 
 searched, the plate found, and iio v/as arrested 
 and charged with counterfeiting." 
 
 ' ' They can not punish him, can they, doctor ? 
 He showed me the plate, told me how he made it 
 and why, and called my attention to a corner of 
 the note which he had cut off to render the plate 
 imperfect and avoid the possibility of mischief if 
 it should ever fall into dishonest hands." 
 
 " Yes, he told me he had shown it to you, but 
 had forgotten, unfortunately, to show it to me. 
 My testimony would, perhaps, have been im- 
 portant." 
 
166 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 "Why did he not summon me ? " 
 
 " I spoke of that; but he declared that he would 
 rather risk an unjust conviction than to subject 
 you to such humiliation as to call you as a witness 
 in a i^ublic court." 
 
 "Why ! I would testify, if need be, in l^ehalf 
 of the meanest negro, to save him from unjust 
 punishment. Surely it will be no humiliation to 
 go into court for a friend whom I esteem." 
 
 ' ' I hardly think they can even find an indict- 
 ment. The district attorney must know that no 
 conviction can be obtained on such slight ground 
 as this. " 
 
 Ten days later Genevieve received the following 
 characteristic letter from her brother in Missis- 
 sippi : 
 
 My Dear Sister Vieve : Some one at St. Louis has 
 sent me the inclosed note, informing me of the arrest of 
 our Yankee captain for counterfeiting. I am now more 
 than ever glad that I did not reply to the fellow's letter 
 concerning you. 
 
 But I am not quite able to understand the animus of 
 this inclosed letter. It has no signature, as you will see, 
 but is evidently written by some one who knows me and 
 you, as well as the man Adams, and I do not doubt that 
 the note is written in your best interest, and by some 
 friend of yours. At any rate, the fact which it announces 
 docB not surprise me, and we should congratulate ourselves 
 
A CHARACTERISTIC LETTER. 167 
 
 that the captain is now likely to receive promotion, and 
 have another opportunity to serve " the most forbearing 
 government under the sun" (!) in the penitentiary. 
 
 Let me hear the result, Vieve, and excuse this brief 
 note, as I am very busy. 
 
 Your brother, M. Cauldwell. 
 
 To say that Genevieve was astounded at this 
 letter would be mild. Her face burned with in- 
 dignation. A host of conflicting emotions were 
 aroused. Who had written that anonymous note 
 to deepen the unjust prejudice of her brother 
 against Captain Adams ? Who could have any 
 interest in interfering against Captain Adams in 
 her brother's estimate of his character ? Was the 
 note really intended to injure the captain, or was 
 it not rather intended to increase the obstacles 
 between him and herself ? Of one thing she was 
 sure : it was not meant to be, as her brother sup- 
 posed, in her interest, and it was not written by 
 any friend of hers. For a moment she suspected 
 Jane Waterbury of its authorship. She was not 
 unaware that Jane had been strangely smitten 
 with love at first sight on meeting Captain Adams, 
 but she also felt assured that Jane was strugghng 
 to suppress her infatuation with maiden modesty, 
 and was too honorable to write anonymous notes 
 
168 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE, 
 
 which might affect the relations of Captain 
 Adams with another. 
 
 Genevieve opened and scrutinized the note in- 
 closed in her brother's letter. It was addressed to 
 "Colonel Marshall Caldwell "—spelled without 
 the u. Jane Waterbury would not make that mis- 
 take. It was in a somewhat disguised hand, and 
 evidently a woman's. But it was not Jane Water- 
 bury 's hand ; Genevieve knew her writing too 
 well to be mistaken. Then, who could the writer 
 be ? She gave it up for the present. She could 
 not even decide whether the note was the off- 
 spring of malice or jealousy, or only of a marplot 
 love of mischief. She could only wait events, 
 trusting to know more hereafter. 
 
 On the very next morning the daily papers 
 announced the return into court of an indictment 
 against Captain Adams for felony, in "having 
 unlawfully made and retained in his possession 
 an electrotype plate of a United States fifty cents 
 postal note." When Genevieve saw that an- 
 nouncement she was still more surprised. Could 
 it be possible that a man was to be put upon trial 
 for felony who had only made a simple experi- 
 ment in electrotype copying, with no evil intent, 
 with no secrecy, and in ignorance of the fact that 
 
CAPT. ADAMS INDICTED FOR FELONY. 169 
 
 the act was unlawful! Surely no government 
 would go to such extremes as that, especially 
 with an honorable gentleman so well known as 
 Captain Adams. At any rate, she felt confident 
 that her testimony as to the purpose for which 
 the plate had been made— her knowledge of the 
 captain's want of any thought that he was violat- 
 ing the law— would secure his acquital ; and she 
 expected, as a matter of course, that she would 
 be called as a witness in his defense. It was not 
 a pleasant thought that she should appear in 
 open court, where she had never been, and where 
 she must be compelled to recite what had passed 
 between herself and Captain Adams in the labora- 
 tory at The Hermitage on that memorable Sun- 
 day afternoon; but stern duty demanded the 
 sacrifice, and she was ready to answer a sub- 
 poena. 
 
 Days passed, and no subpoena came. Could it 
 be possible that Captain Adams, out of a dehcate 
 regard for her feehngs, would still persist in risk- 
 ing a trial without requesting her presence as a 
 witness ? She appreciated his forbearance, but 
 such self-denial would be madness, and she at once 
 determined to ascertain the day of trial, wait for 
 a subpoena until the last moment, and then, if it 
 
170 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 came not, to volunteer and go upon the witness 
 stand. She would do the same for any innocent 
 person under the same circumstances, she said to 
 herself ; it would not be any compromise of her 
 dignity nor her proper womanly modesty, it would 
 simply be an act of justice, which she would be 
 ashamed to neglect under any circumstances. 
 
 She went to Dr. Chartervale and asked him if 
 he could tell her when Captain Adams' trial was 
 to occur. Yes, he could ; it was to take place on 
 the day after the morrow. 
 
 "And I have not been subpoenaed. Doctor; 
 what does that mean ? " 
 
 " It means that he has decided to spare you the 
 necessity of going into court in his behalf." 
 
 "Why — he is mad. Does he think I am a 
 child?" 
 
 " He thinks you are a dehcate young lady, who 
 should not be subjected to the rude cross-question- 
 ing of the district attorney in a crowded court- 
 house." 
 
 " Who is the district attorney. Doctor ? " 
 
 The tone in which Genevieve made this inquiry 
 startled the doctor. He looked into her face and 
 found it all aglow. Some strong purpose was 
 working in her expressive face. He hesitated. 
 
GENEVIEVE RESOLVES TO TESTIFY. iTl 
 
 He knew her strong will and resolute purpose, 
 and cautious and prudent as he knew her to be, 
 he feared she was contemplating some step his 
 calmer judgment might not approve. 
 
 "Genevieve," said he, "Captain Adams him- 
 self went to the district attorney yesterday and 
 gave up to him the very plate which he stands 
 charged with having made and unlawfully had 
 in his possession. He called the attorney's atten- 
 tion to the missing corner, and told why it had 
 been cut off from the fractional note, and ac- 
 knowledged all the facts charged in the indict- 
 ment, and pleaded his entire ignorance of its 
 being unlawful." 
 
 ' ' Well ? " said Genevieve. 
 
 u-y^gll_the attorney told him those facts 
 would be for the consideration of the court." 
 
 That ended the conversation. But Genevieve's 
 resolution was taken ; she would call upon the 
 district attorney next day and proffer her testi- 
 mony in behalf of an innocent man. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Justice Gains a Victory — A Manly Letter, and the Hap- 
 piness It Brought. 
 
 HEN Henry Waterbury had signed the stipu- 
 lation by which he was to return to his 
 brother's widow and daughter the thousands out 
 of which they had been wrongfully kept for so 
 many years, and had in open court consented to 
 the judgment and decree by which he took the 
 first step to right a great wrong, he returned to 
 his little Yankee wife at Nonabel relieved of a 
 burden which had weighed upon him for years. 
 He had always felt a lingering suspicion that 
 he had done a great wrong ; and it had never 
 put him quite at ease to know that not a shadow 
 of proof had heretofore been presented that the 
 claim of the woman who assumed to be his 
 brother's widow was founded in truth. He had 
 very naturally reasoned that in the very nature 
 of things his brother's marriage (if it had ever 
 occurred), the subsequent biiih of a child in 
 
 (173) 
 
174 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 a foreign land, and the return of himself and 
 family to the United States, as claimed by Mrs. 
 Jane Waterbury in his presence after the war, 
 must have left some legal i^roofs behind to es- 
 tablish the facts. He was an experienced law- 
 yer, famihar with the rules of evidence ; and as 
 none whatever could be found but the assertion 
 of the woman claiming to be his widow, he had 
 decided that his duty as well as his interest 
 demanded that he should not admit the claim. 
 All this his judgment approved ; but still his con- 
 science had never been quite easy. Nancy Water- 
 bury, however, his righteous wife, was governed 
 less by the rigid processes of reason than by those 
 impulses of the heart which so seldom err in 
 detecting truth and honesty when brought face 
 to face with their fervid manifestation. She had 
 seen the lady from Mississippi on her first visit to 
 Nonabel, and was present at her interview with 
 Mr. Waterbury ; she had seen her indignation 
 when rejected and compelled to listen to his inti- 
 mation of fraud and crafty shame seeking to hide 
 itself in fraud, and had witnessed her agonized 
 look of sorrow when she had been turned away, 
 and she had from that moment accepted the poor 
 woman's story as the truth. She had even induced 
 
JUSTICE GAINS A VICTORY. 175 
 
 her husband to have careful investigation made at 
 the State Department in Washington, and through 
 that of the ambassadorial records of Paris, for 
 proofs in the woman's behalf. But they could 
 only ascertain that Mr. Faulkner, the American 
 Minister, had left the records at Paris in such 
 inextricable confusion that nothing whatever 
 could be learned from them. But she was never 
 convinced, and it made her very unhappy. Now, 
 when her husband returned from Cincinnati and 
 told her what had been done, she was happy. 
 Her little bright eyes fairly sparkled. "And 
 now," said she to her husband, "that we have 
 been permitted to do justice before we die, let 
 us do it with cheerful hearts. We have enough 
 and to spare without the property of poor John. 
 We will move at once into our house on the 
 hill, — it will be empty in a week, — and I will 
 have this all ready for its lawful owners by 
 the time they are ready to occupy it. You can 
 transfer the moneys and stocks to her when 
 she arrives ; and the good God will bless us 
 all the more for righting a great wrong which 
 we did in our bhndness. Won't it be a happy 
 day! 
 
 "And now, my dear husband, sit down and 
 
176 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 write a letter to Mrs. Waterbury, such as you 
 would wish written to me, were I in her place." 
 Henry Waterbury was not quite so enthusiastic 
 as his noble wife, but he wrote the letter. It was 
 long, full of self -justification, but a model letter 
 withal, and the reader has a right to see it in fuU: 
 
 My Dear Madam : I have written your brother and 
 attorney as to the suit in which he has acted for you, stat- 
 ing that judgment and decree by confession had been 
 entered up in court in your behalf, and by which you will 
 be restored to all your rights of property, etc. 
 
 But who shall restore to you and your daughter (and 
 my niece, as I no longer doubt) the years of sorrowful 
 waiting for justice ? Not I — more's the pity ; for I can 
 not. But all that lies in my power to right the great 
 wrong — ignorantly committed on my part — I am ready 
 to do. 
 
 Be good enough to consider the circumstances in which 
 I was placed. 
 
 We had just come out of a dreadful war. Brethren 
 had not only risen to destroy each other, but to malign, 
 abuse and misunderstand each other. We of the North 
 had come to look on the Southern people as traitors and 
 rebels, wantonly seeking the wreck of our fair fabric of 
 government for the sole purpose of riveting the chains 
 still stronger on the poor slave. These feelings were 
 intensified by the war itself. Each of us, as of you, had 
 lost a brother, or a husband, or a son, in the deadly 
 struggle ; until each had come to feel that to utterly 
 destroy the other would be doing God service. We of 
 
A MANLY LETTER. 177 
 
 the North had not yet stopped to consider that the South- 
 ern people had been driven by the very destiny of events 
 into either separation and a rival government, or the over- 
 throw of all organized society among you ; that, from the 
 very nature of your surroundings, you must have believed 
 yourselves in the right and us in the wrong ; that the 
 slave system had become the underlying bond of unity in 
 all your social organism, from which you could not escape 
 if you would — in short, that you were as conscientious in 
 the support of your cause as we in ours. 
 
 In that state of morbid irritability against our late an- 
 tagonists you came to me at the close of the war, making 
 claims of which I had no previous knowledge, and which 
 appeared to me unfounded and fraudulent. You know 
 the rest but too well : I rejected your unproven claim and 
 turned you away as an impostor. 
 
 But more than twelve years have passed since the close 
 of that bloody struggle, and I, with a large body of the 
 Northern people, have come to look upon that contest with 
 different feelings. For myself — abolitionist as I was — I 
 now see that abolitionism did not abolish slaver}-, but that 
 it went out, in the fullness of time, to its inevitable end ; 
 that the fortune of birth, education, social environment, 
 and personal self-interest, determined upon which side 
 each should battle ; that the questions at issue between 
 brethren were so momentous that only war could decide 
 the inevitable conflict ; and that now both parties should 
 again unite as brethren in building up the waste places, 
 cementing the whole people into a loving brotherhood — 
 equal in honor, in glory, and in the blessings and protec- 
 tion of a benignant governmei:it. These are the true sen- 
 timents of my heart to-day. 
 12 
 
178 THE GRAY AND TPIE BLUE. 
 
 Be assured, dear madam, we shall receive you at Non- 
 abel with a cordial welcome. Come and make your home 
 among us: we will strive to make amends for all the past. 
 My little wife bids me say, in closing, that she ahoays 
 believed in you, and that she will have your own house all 
 ready for your reception. 
 
 I am, very truly, yours, 
 
 Henky Waterbury. 
 
 P. S. — I inclose draft for $1,000 for immediate ex- 
 penses. W. 
 
 When Mrs. Waterbury had read this long let- 
 ter, had cried for joy over it, and 2:)ondered for an 
 hour the great change which was about to come 
 upon her own and her daughter's fortunes, she 
 was too full for words. And when her brother 
 came in and asked to see the letter, she silently 
 handed it to him, with a face beaming with hap- 
 piness. 
 
 Could it be possible ! Could it indeed be true ! 
 After all these years of jDoverty and dependence, 
 of questionable reputation, always under a cloud, 
 of hope deferred and feelings outraged and rights 
 denied, she was now to be restored to her dead 
 husband's estate and the honor of his name. It 
 was almost overwhelming. 
 
 But her brother had now read the "Yankee 
 abolitionist's " letter through. 
 
JOY AT CHANGE OF FORTUNE. 179 
 
 ''This is all very weU, Jane," said Mr. Lang- 
 don ; " but it is all gammon." 
 
 "What is aU gammon?" inquired the sister, 
 who was too happy over the contents of the letter 
 to search for unworthy motives in its author. 
 
 "The whole letter," rephed Mr. Langdon ; 
 "there's nothing honest about it." 
 
 " Isn't this an honest draft ; is it not good for 
 a thousand doUars ? " 
 
 "That is your money— not his. He makes a 
 virtue of necessity. The proof in your behalf is 
 overwhelming, and he can not help himself." 
 " He yields at least hke a gentleman." 
 " That is all Yankee hypocrisy." 
 " But why should he have written the letter at 
 aU?" 
 
 " Merely to curry favor." 
 "With me?" 
 
 "With the Southern people. Now that the 
 Yankees have, as they suppose, gotten us under 
 their thumbs, they are very sorry they made war 
 upon us, and pretend it came of ' the imperious 
 logic of events.' They want us to prosper, so 
 they may fatten off our prosperity." 
 
 "Well, for my part, brother, I have suffered 
 too much and too long to cavil with the man who 
 
180 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 offers me now something more than justice. I 
 shall accept whatever of good-will he and that 
 wife, who he declared always beheved in me, may 
 offer. Of course you will accompany me to 
 Nonabel and see me established in my new home. 
 I shall make all haste to get ready, and I feel that 
 at least the little black-eyed woman (whom I 
 well remember) and I will be friends. I thought 
 then she believed me, and I am happy now to 
 know it." 
 
 "Well, well, Jane, I trust you may be happy 
 with those folks. But I will wait before express- 
 ing my opinion. " 
 
 The next thing was to write to the daughter at 
 St. Louis. No mother ever performed a more 
 dehghtful labor. ''AH our weary days of wait- 
 ing are over ; our good name is vindicated ; we 
 can hold our heads up before the world ; you 
 will be happy, and I shall be happy in seeing you 
 so," she wrote. And then she showered bless- 
 ings on the head of her dear friend, Mrs. Charter- 
 vale, who, despite her own bereavement, remem- 
 bered so well the facts upon which had depended 
 all this unexpected good fortune. And her letter 
 concluded by telling her daughter that as soon as 
 she could arrange for her reception she was to 
 
MOTHER AND DAUGHTER UNITED. 181 
 
 come to her new home at Nonabel, and abandon 
 Monticello for an equally good school among her 
 new friends in Ohio. Mother and daughter had 
 already been too long separated, and thenceforth 
 they should be together. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Some Mississippians — Mr. Langdon Takes the First Step 
 Toward Reconciliation. 
 
 'HEN Mr. Langdon went to his office he found 
 several persons sitting under the shade of 
 the China tree at the door, smoking, whitthng, 
 and otherwise whihng away the warm afternoon. 
 He could not refrain from telling some of them 
 of the good fortune which had befallen his sister. 
 Then he read some portions of Mr. Waterbury's 
 conciliatory letter, winding up by asking : ' ^ What 
 do you think of that ? " 
 
 *'He lies !" replied a gray-headed old man in a 
 broad-brimmed slouch hat, removing his pipe and 
 pushing down the ashes with his finger. " I say 
 he lies if he says the people up thar feel as he 
 pretends to feel 'bout the wa'. It was a' abolition 
 wa' got up to free the niggers." 
 
 "That's so ! " responded several others. 
 
 " An' the Democrats — most of 'em — j'ined the 
 
 abolition Eepubhcans agin' us," continued the 
 (183) 
 
18i THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 first speaker. '^Didn't Douglas and nearly all 
 the Douglas men go over to Lincoln's side ? If 
 they wasn't abolitionists, what made 'em do that ? 
 They could never have beat the South to all 
 eternity if the Douglas men had stood out." 
 
 '' But that Ohio man is right, I reckon, in one 
 thing," said a second speaker. " The wa' had got 
 to come sometime. And what I blame our fellers 
 for is firin' the first gun at Sumter, and so rous- 
 in' up every Yankee from Maine to Calif orny." 
 
 '^ That's so, too," responded the company ; but 
 one of them, a comparatively young man, who 
 had served in both armies, and who now hobbled 
 around on a wooden leg, ventured to say that 
 Western men were not real Yankees ; he had seen 
 a good deal of them, and he knew that at first, at 
 least, not many of them were abohtionists. 
 
 "How did it happen. Bill," inquired the old 
 man first mentioned, "that you served in both 
 armies ? " 
 
 ' ' Oh, I was up in Ohio, and got a big bounty, 
 and first cliance I got I came over to my old side. 
 But I never seed any difference betwixt Western 
 soldiers and our Southern boys, 'cept one wo' 
 blue an' the other gray — an' they didn't all do 
 that at fust, for I seen lots o' Western soldiers 
 
SOME MISSISSIPPIANS. 185 
 
 dressed in gray uniforms ; and when the South 
 took up with the gray the North fell back on the 
 blue. But I tell you what 'tis— you hav'n't been 
 up thar, and don't know the people, only as you 
 h'yer our people talk 'bout 'em, and don't know 
 nothin' 'bout it. They are jest as good, jest as 
 brave, fight jest as well, and will divide rations 
 with a feller jest as quick as we boys. My 'pinion 
 is it's 'bout time for North and South to shake 
 hands. An' I think the man that wrote that 
 letter tells the truth. All the North cares for is 
 bizness, and they like the Southern people jest as 
 well as if thar had never bin no war." 
 
 "And a good deal better ! I suspect," said Mr. 
 Langdon, " some of these days we shall be recon- 
 ciled and be friends again, perhaps ; and it goes 
 against the grain, doesn't it, Ned ? " 
 
 This man addressed as Ned was once a dealer 
 in slaves, and had amassed considerable wealth in 
 the trade, though he never himself entered direct- 
 ly into the business, but worked through subordi- 
 nates. He was a man six feet high, with stout 
 bull-neck and an immense jaw. He had lost 
 nearly everything by the war. His name was 
 Eichison. 
 
 "I'll never be reconciled till the day of judg- 
 
186 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 ment ! " replied Richison. "I knew Abe Lincoln 
 in Illinois, fo' he ever thought o' bein' President ; 
 and I never did like the old abohtionist. " 
 
 "Oh, no, Eichison," interposed Mr. Langdon ; 
 "Lincoln was not— politically, at least — what 
 you might call an abolitionist, whatever else he 
 may have been." 
 
 " How in thunder do you make that out ? " in- 
 quired Richison. 
 
 "I'll show you how I make it out," responded 
 Mr. Langdon, as he stepped inside and brought 
 from his book-case " Raymond's Life and State 
 Papers of Lincoln." "Here," said he, as he read, 
 " listen to this ; it is Lincoln's reply to Horace 
 Greeley, who had charged him, in the Tribune, 
 with refusing to at once decree the abohtion of 
 slavery : 
 
 " 'I would save the Union ; I would save it in 
 the shortest way under the Constitution. The 
 sooner the national authority can be restored, the 
 nearer the Union will be the Union as it was. 
 
 " ' If there be those who would not save the 
 Union unless they could at the same time save 
 slaveiy, I do not agree with them. 
 
 " 'If there be those who would not save the 
 Union unless they could at the same time destroy 
 
LINCOLN AS A UNION SAVER. 187 
 
 slavery, I do not agree with them. My para- 
 mount object is to save the Union. 
 
 " 'If I could save the Union without freeing 
 any slave, I would do it ; if I could save it by 
 freeing all the slaves, I would do it ; and if I 
 could do it by freeing some and leaving others 
 alone, I would do that. 
 
 ' ' ' What I do about the colored race I do because 
 I beheve it helps to save this Union, and what I 
 forbear I forbear because I do not believe it would 
 help to save the Union. 
 
 "'I shall do less whenever I believe what I am 
 doing hurts the cause, and I shall do more when- 
 ever I believe doing more will help the cause. 
 ***** -:^ * 
 
 " ' I have here stated my purpose according to 
 my views of official duty, and I intend no modi- 
 fication of my oft-expressed personal wish that 
 all men everywhere could be free.' " 
 
 "Well," said Richison, after the reading was 
 ended, "that closing remark sounds very much 
 like abolitionism. What's the difference ? " 
 
 "The difference, as I understand it," rephed 
 Mr. Langdon, "is that he was against slavery, 
 but would not disregard the Constitution to 
 abohsh it ; whereas the abolitionists would abolish 
 
188 THE GEAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 it even at the cost of disruption of the Union and 
 overthrow of the Constitution. Don't you see 
 the difference ? " 
 
 And so ended the conversation. But when Mr. 
 Langdon went into his office the effort he had 
 unintentionally made in defense of President 
 Lincoln on one point set him to thinking whether 
 he might not bear as good a defense upon many 
 others. When he got through thinking about 
 the matter, he had advanced one step toward 
 reconciliation with the North. Perhaps his sis- 
 ter's good fortune had some share in this shght 
 advancement. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A Modest IIeroinb — Genevieve Carries the Day with the 
 District Attorney — Miss Waterbury Creates a Sensa- 
 tion AT The Hermitage— An Anonymous Note — Gene- 
 vieve Recognizes the Work of an Enemy. 
 
 §N the afternoon before the day which had 
 been set for the trial of Captain Adams, 
 Genevieve Cauldwell left The Hermitage on foot, 
 "without speaking of her destination or design to 
 any one ; she walked to Tower Grove Park, took 
 a carriage there, and told the driver to go to the 
 United States attorney's office in the city by the 
 shortest route. Nobody saw her leave The Her- 
 mitage but Miss Tyndal, who looked curiously 
 after her, and made a mental note of her depart- 
 ure. Arrived at the district attorney's office, 
 Genevieve, finding the door open, walked in, 
 asked for that officer (who answered her inquiry), 
 and handed him a card : 
 
 Miss Genevieve Cauldwell, 
 
 With Dr. Chartervale. The Hermitage. 
 
 (189) 
 
190 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 The attorney gave her a quick, scrutinizing 
 glance, saw that she wished to confer with him, 
 and showed her to a chair in his consultation 
 room, while he carefully read her card, and in a 
 resj)ectful manner took another chair near her. 
 He was a keen, quick-witted man, accustomed to 
 conference with all sorts of i^eople, and knew at 
 once that his visitor was a lady — young, hand- 
 some, inexperienced, and unaccustomed to courts 
 and attorneys, but at the same time cool, com- 
 posed, and confident of herself and resolute in her 
 object, whatever that might prove to be. 
 
 "What can I do for you, Miss Cauldwell?" 
 said the attorney, by way of an opening. 
 
 " Captain Adams is to be tried for counter- 
 feiting to-morrow, I learn." 
 
 "Yes, if we can reach the case. It is set for 
 to-morrow. " 
 
 " I have ventured, under a strong sense of jus- 
 tice, to offer myself as a witness on that trial." 
 
 This was said by Genevieve in a low tone, but 
 still with firmness. 
 
 ' ' In behalf of the government ? " inquired the 
 attorney. 
 
 "In behalf of the truth, sir. I suppose your 
 government wants nothing but the truth ? " 
 
A VOLUNTEER WITNESS. 191 
 
 The attorney was somewhat at fault. 
 
 "Well, yes, the government certainly desires 
 to get at the truth,— and the whole truth." 
 
 "Well, sir," replied Genevieve, "part of the 
 truth in this case— a very important part— is 
 known to no one but me. " 
 
 "Will what you know assist the government 
 in making out its case 1 " 
 
 "Do you mean, sir, in convicting an innocent 
 man? No, sir. Had I supposed it could have 
 that effect I should have remained silent." 
 
 " I think, then. Miss, you have made a mistake. 
 Your evidence is for the defendant, and you 
 should have called upon Captain Adams' attorney. 
 Why have you not been subpoenaed on behalf of 
 the defendant ? " 
 
 "Solely because of what appears to me an 
 unnecessary regard for what he supposes would 
 be my repugnance to go as a witness into open 
 court. It would be, indeed, a most unpleasant 
 duty, but a duty nevertheless. But in my igno- 
 rance I supposed that your government would 
 accept the truth from any quarter. Or are your 
 laws intended to punish all, innocent and guilty 
 alike?" 
 
 By this time Miss Cauldwell was well warmed 
 
192 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 up ; her face was flushed, her blood heated, her 
 eyes opened wide and sparkhng, and her full, 
 mellow voice was marked by strong emphasis. 
 The district attorney smiled, then begged her 
 pardon for doing so, and then said, deprecatingly : 
 
 " This is not only my government — let us be 
 thankful — but yours also. I do not make the 
 laws, but it is my duty to prosecute and if pos- 
 sible to convict all who violate them. Will you 
 pardon me if I advise that you still call upon 
 Captain Adams' attorney and confer with him ? " 
 
 " I thank 3^ou, sir. But I think I can serve the 
 cause of justice better with you — now I am here. 
 May I ask you a question ? " 
 
 "Certainly — most certainly.'' 
 
 " Would you convict and send Captain Adams 
 to the penitentiary if you knew that he made the 
 electrotye for which he is indicted as an experi- 
 ment proper to his own profession ; that a mere 
 accident led him to use a fifty-cent note for that 
 purpose ; that he cut off a corner of that note to 
 prevent wrong if it should fall into dishonest 
 hands; and that he showed the plate to me as he 
 took it from the battery, and stated all those 
 facts?" 
 
 " Why, my dear Miss, it is just as much felony 
 
CONFERENCE WITH THE ATTORNEY. 193 
 
 under the law to make a plate of part of a note as 
 of a whole one ; and the felony does not consist 
 in any degree in the motive or in any fraudulent 
 intent, but in making or possessing the wJiole or 
 any part of such plate.^^ 
 
 ' ' And you will ruin an innocent man and send 
 him to a felon's cell under the circumstances 
 which I have named ? No, sir, this is not my 
 government — I denounce it ! And I bid you good 
 evening. " 
 
 As she rose to leave, the attorney rose also, and 
 in a conciUatory tone said that she had assumed 
 too much ; he had not quite said that he would 
 insist upon a conviction under such circumstances, 
 adding that he hoped she would wait before de- 
 nouncing the government, which never willingly 
 punished the really innocent. He said these last 
 words in such a tone and with such an expression 
 that Genevieve stopped for an instant, looked into 
 his face, was encouraged, and said : 
 
 "I have sought this interview of my own 
 motion, without consultation with any one. 
 Please keep my secret." 
 
 "Certainly, Miss," rephed the attorney; and 
 Genevieve went out, and returned to The Her- 
 mitage as she had come. 
 13 
 
19i THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 The evening paper of the next day contained 
 the following paragraph in the notice of proceed- 
 ings in the United States District Court : 
 
 In the case of the United States vs. Seth Adams, for 
 counterfeiting, the district attorney informed the court that 
 he was satisfied, from evidence which had come into his 
 possession, that though Captain Adams was no doubt 
 technically guilty, he did not suppose that any jury would 
 be found to convict him ; and he asked leave to enter a 
 nolle pros, and dismiss the case. It was accordingly so 
 done. And it is whispered that certain testimony offered 
 to him by a certain very prepossessing young lady witness 
 had something to do with this bit of good fortune to the 
 gallant captain. 
 
 Late that evening Miss CauldweU and Miss 
 Waterbury were sitting, with Miss Tyndal, in the 
 room of Mrs. Chartervale. Genevieve sat near 
 a window engaged in finishing up a pencil sketch, 
 while Jane was looking over the evening paper 
 which had just come in. A moment later Miss 
 Tyndal saw Miss Waterbury drop the paper upon 
 her lap, while her hands remained in a fixed po- 
 sition, as if still holding the paper ; then she saw 
 her head fall back in the rocking chair in which 
 she sat, and her face grow deathly pale. '^Miss 
 Genevieve ! " she called in a low tone, but loud 
 enough to be heard, and on getting her attention, 
 
A SENSATION AT THE HERMITAGE. 195 
 
 she nodded very significantly toward Miss Water- 
 bury. Genevieve rose instantly, and went to her. 
 She found her eyes closed, her body rigid, and her 
 hands still outheld above the paper. 
 
 "Jane !" exclaimed Genevieve; "Jane Water- 
 bury ! are you sick ? " 
 
 There was no response, nor change of position. 
 
 " Please call Dr. Chartervale— quick," she said 
 to Miss Tyndal. 
 
 When the doctor came in, which was almost 
 instantly, Jane was still motionless, and breath- 
 ing in a slow, labored manner, as if there were 
 some obstruction. 
 
 He picked her up as if she were but a child, 
 and laid her upon a sofa. 
 
 " Loosen her stays, Genevieve— cut the cord— 
 don't wait to unloose it. Hand the ammonia 
 bottle off the stand yonder. Miss Tyndal ;— don't 
 force her hands down (to Genevieve)— rub them." 
 Then pouring a httle ammonia into his hand, the 
 doctor held it close to the sufferer's face with one 
 hand, while he felt the pulse at the wrist with 
 the other. The ammonia induced a heavy, long- 
 drawn sigh, but the breathing was obstructed 
 and the eyes closed, while the face suffered sHght 
 spasmodic twitches. 
 
196 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 "Is the corset loose, Genevieve?" he asked; 
 " there is either compression of the lungs or 
 stricture of the glottis ; — probably the latter, I 
 should judge." 
 
 "Her clothing is wholly loosened," repKed 
 Genevieve ; " it was not tight at first." 
 
 After ten or twelve minutes, there being no 
 improvement, Jane was carried across the hall to 
 her own room and put to bed, where the doctor 
 scrutinized her very closely. He became satisfied 
 that she was suffering from some form of hys- 
 teria, but of this he said nothing, owing to his 
 knowledge of the fooHsh prejudice which pre- 
 vails against that form of disease. 
 
 Genevieve was greatly disturbed, and her face 
 showed the deepest anxiety, though she said but 
 Uttle, except to inquire if the poor girl's condition 
 was dangerous. 
 
 "I think there is little present danger," replied 
 the doctor, " though she may remain some hours 
 in this condition. I will go down to the dispen- 
 sary and return directly, and I must leave you, 
 Genevieve, to watch by her till I return. You 
 need do nothing, unless she recovers sufficiently 
 to be conscious ; if she does, and asks for water, 
 let her have it." 
 
PROLONGED UNCONSCIOUSNESS. 197 
 
 During the doctor's absence Jane lay motion- 
 less and pale as death. The eyes twitched, but 
 remained closed. The face was calm, except 
 shght contractions about the mouth. The respi- 
 ration, still slow, regular, and obstructed by 
 stricture of the glottis, was occasionally inter- 
 rupted by a long-drawn sigh. 
 
 When the doctor returned he found no change; 
 and when he offered her medicine, and put the 
 spoon between her lips, she swallowed mechanic- 
 ally, in a semi-conscious state, but uttered no 
 word and kept her eyes closed. 
 
 At bed-time there was no apparent improve- 
 ment. 
 
 "I will watch by her, Genevieve," said the 
 doctor. '' Lie down, if you choose, upon the sofa 
 in this room, and I will call you if needed." 
 
 " Oh, no. Doctor ! I could not sleep ; I will sit 
 by Jane until she is better, and will caU you if 
 needed. Leave me full directions ; I am a good 
 nurse, and I love to watch with the sick. Besides, 
 Jane would never leave me under such circum- 
 stances — never ! " 
 
 "She will never see you under just such cir- 
 cumstances," replied the doctor, with a significant 
 smile. " Your temperament is sterner stuff." 
 
198 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Genevieve was almost shocked to see Dr. Char- 
 tervale smile in such a presence, but she took 
 it as a favorable omen. Surely he would not 
 do that did he not feel very confident of Jane's 
 recovery. 
 
 So Genevieve was the watcher for the night at 
 the bedside of her friend ; and never was watcher 
 so devoted. It was a labor of love, that brought 
 into play all the kindlier elements of her charac- 
 ter. For with great firmness, decision, will and 
 fixity of purpose were in her combined, in most 
 harmonious i^roportion, sympathy, kindness, and 
 unselfish devotion to, the happiness of others. 
 And when these noble traits were aroused in be- 
 half of a dear friend, no sacrifice was too great ; 
 to serve others was in itself the cliiefest pleasure. 
 But now, in this strange sickness of her dearest 
 friend and confidant, there was an element of 
 mystery which gave it peculiar interest. She had 
 at one time suspected that Jane's susceptible 
 nature had been strangely impressed on first 
 sight of Captain Adams, and that her feelings 
 toward him had been strongly intensified on their 
 second meeting, but she had recently come to feel 
 that, whatever might have been the case at first, 
 Jane had now subdued her love and cast it aside. 
 
A NIGHT OF WATCHING. 199 
 
 Indeed, she had measured her friend by her own 
 great power of self-control, and had not been 
 able to appreciate that delicacy of nervous organ- 
 ization and almost morbid excitabihty of tempera- 
 ment which governed the emotional nature of 
 Jane Waterbury. She was not aware of the close 
 relationship that exists between strong emotions 
 and excessive nervous disturbance, and was little 
 able to consider how the great master passion of 
 personal love was able, in certain peculiarities of 
 organization in members of her own sex, to draw 
 all the vital functions into a morbid condition. 
 Dr. Chartervale already had a suspicion of the 
 real basis of his patient's attack, which he became 
 confirmed in afterward. But Genevieve saw 
 nothing of all this. Her own strong nature was 
 only roused to greater strength by sudden emer- 
 gency ; and for seven hours she watched at her 
 companion's bedside, her vigilance never flagging 
 for a moment. 
 
 Toward daylight the patient's breathing became 
 more gentle and natural, and she appeared to pass 
 into a disturbed slumber, marked with muttering 
 in a very low tone, and heavy sighing at inter- 
 vals. At one time she seemed to utter distinct 
 words; and Genevieve, leaning over her, heard 
 
200 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 her say: "That grand old man! — Noble son; 
 noble father ! " 
 
 By daybreak the sleep had become quite natural, 
 and Genevieve stole quietly out to notify Dr. 
 Chartervale. 
 
 He did not appear surprised — he had expected 
 it, in fact. But he instructed Genevieve to make 
 no allusions whatever to the attack through 
 which Miss Jane had passed, in her presence — 
 neither then nor at any future time. 
 
 At breakfast time Jane sent down word that 
 she had not rested well, and would not come down 
 — unaware, apparently,, of all which had hap- 
 pened. So, thenceforth, no further notice was 
 taken of this strange visitation, and neither Jane 
 herself nor any one in her presence made the least 
 allusion to it. None, indeed, but Miss Tyndal 
 knew the provoking as well as the primary cause 
 of Jane Waterbury's strange attack. Immedi- 
 ately after Jane had been carried from the room, 
 Miss Tyndal, who saw the newspaper fall from 
 her hands, and who knew she had just been read- 
 ing it, sought the cause of the attack in the paper 
 itself. She soon found the notice of Captain 
 Adams' acquittal, and the reference to Genevieve 
 (whom she had seen leave alone for the city on 
 
A MISCHIEF MAKER. 201 
 
 the day before), and she jumped, with womanly 
 intuition, to the conclusion that the paper and the 
 sudden attack were related as cause and effect. 
 But she had her reasons for not wishing that 
 others should possess the same knowledge. And 
 so, after clipping out the paragraph which had 
 done the mischief, and putting it into her note- 
 book, she hid the paper away, trusting that it 
 would not be asked for. 
 
 And it may as well be stated here as afterward, 
 that a week later Genevieve received the follow- 
 ing brief and emphatic letter from her brother, 
 Colonel Cauldwell : 
 
 My Dear Sister Genevieve : This morning I received 
 the inclosed newspaper slip and the accompanying note, 
 in the same handwriting as a former one, and, like that, 
 unsigned. 
 
 "What does it all mean ? I fear I have mistaken my 
 sister, and should have her nearer to me. 
 
 Better come home, I think ; but write me at once. 
 Your brother and guardian, 
 
 M. Cauldwell. 
 
 The inclosed newspaper slip was the paragraph 
 announcing the acquittal of Captain Adams, and 
 the accompanying note was this : 
 
 Col. Caldwell : Captain Adams, whose acquittal is 
 noticed in the slip I send, you know, or know of ; but 
 you may not know that the " prepossessing young lady " 
 
202 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 mentioned, is your sister, Genevieve Caldwell. But the 
 friend who sends you this, happens to have that knowledge, 
 and believes you should have it also. 
 
 GeneYieve was startled by the reading of this 
 out of her usual self-control. She left the com- 
 pany with the open letter in her hand, went to her 
 own room, and, locking the door, walked the 
 floor in silent anger. Who was the demon who 
 was making all this mischief ? She knew it could 
 not be Jane Waterbury ; ^vlio could it he f She 
 thought she did not care that her brother should 
 know all this ; her own sense of propriety justi- 
 fied her conduct, and she was prepared to justify 
 herself to him when necessary. But she was not 
 prepared to have her acts — which she believed 
 unknown to any but the district attorney — made 
 the basis of newspaper notoriety, and much less 
 was she willing that Captain Adams should know 
 of her unsolicited interference in his behalf. 
 Had the attorney betrayed her ? No ; she could 
 not believe that. Some prying newspaper reporter 
 had seen her enter the inner office, and had 
 guessed at the rest. Could the attorney have 
 written to her brother ? No ; that was not to be 
 thought of. And so she gave it up for the pres- 
 ent, and, after she became calm, returned to her 
 friends below as if nothing had happened. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The Happy Reunion of the Waterburts at Nonabel— An 
 Eventful Sunday— Two Sermons, and What Came of 
 Them. 
 
 T^eiiENMr. Langdon and Mrs. Waterbury ar- 
 jli) rived at Nonabel by the Cincinnati train, — 
 from which city they had notified Mr. Waterbury 
 of their approach, -they found that gentleman 
 awaiting them at the railway station. He recog- 
 nized the new comers without difficulty, and after 
 seating them and himself in a hght carriage be- 
 hind a lively team, he broke the rather embar- 
 rassing silence by saying : 
 
 "This is your ow-n carriage and horses, Madam. 
 I hope you will enjoy your first use of them." 
 
 "I certainly shaU," Yvas the reply— " if the 
 horses do not run aAvay." 
 
 "Oh, nothing belonging to you ever ran away," 
 rephed Mr. Waterbury. " I trust you found my 
 schedule satisfactory ? "—to Mr. Langdon. 
 
 "Most satisfactory, sir; I am happy in the 
 
 (203) 
 
204 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 belief that nothing of my sister's has run away. 
 And if she has had to suffer a grievous delay, 
 I am satisfied that at least her estate has not 
 suffered." 
 
 This statement evidently gave much satisfaction 
 to Mr. Waterbury, who prided himself not a Httle 
 upon his probity and thrifty business habits. 
 
 " Thank you," replied he; "for that much I 
 think I am entitled to credit. But in being con- 
 scious of the real truth by intuition, my little 
 wife deserves all credit ; and she will welcome 
 you Hke a sister," — to Mrs. Waterbury. And 
 then to Mr. Langdon : "You are a lawyer, sir, 
 and know the importance of testimony. " 
 
 "Certainly; I appreciate your position as to 
 your brother's estate. But my sister has suffered 
 most in wounded sensibihties, touching her repu- 
 tation." 
 
 "I lament that, sir, beg her pardon, and hope 
 to make all possible amends for any avoidable 
 wrong on my part. But you also know — as a 
 lawyer — that by the evidence or want of evidence 
 the estate and the previous marriage were insep- 
 arably connected. 
 
 " Ah ! there is my Mrs. Waterbury at the door 
 to receive us. Bless her Calvinistic heart ! She 
 
ARRIVAL AT NONABEL. 205 
 
 is better than her creed, and extends her love to 
 all, regardless of any question of 'election.' " 
 
 By this time the carriage was approaching an 
 arched gateway entering into a delightful, tree- 
 shaded lawn, in front of the fine residence which 
 was thenceforth to become that of Mrs. Jane 
 Langdon Waterbury and her daughter. 
 
 It need not be said that the reception of the 
 new comers on the part of Mrs. Waterbury was 
 most cordial and unpretending. 
 
 She was looking for them, recognized her sister- 
 in-law at once, and made a most favorable im- 
 pression upon Mr. Langdon. 
 
 "If this is only acting," thought he, "it is so 
 like the real thing that it wiU be wisdom to accept 
 it as such." 
 
 It was nearly dinner time ; and while Mrs. 
 Jane Waterbury changed her attire and made 
 ready for the meal, the two gentlemen strolled 
 about the grounds for a brief survey. 
 
 "The Waterbury Place" was well known not 
 only to aU in Nonabel, but to all the country 
 round. It had been the home of the Waterburys 
 for two generations, having been built and occu- 
 pied by the father of the present occupant long 
 before the turnpike road which ran by the arched 
 
206 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 gateway was built. On the old gentleman's 
 death it had passed to the possession of the son 
 who met his fate at Bull Run, and since that 
 event had been occupied by his surviving brother, 
 who preferred it to his own residence, which in 
 the meantime had been rented out. 
 
 To that residence Mr. Henry Waterbury now 
 intended to return, and leave the old homestead 
 to his sister-in-law. However, during the after- 
 noon, after mutual consultation, it was decided 
 that for the present, at least, both f amihes should 
 remain where they were, as the house was large 
 enough for both, and as Mrs. Jane Waterbury did 
 not care to be left in the house with no company 
 save that of her daughter. 
 
 From the very first the women were friends. 
 There was no embarrassment or restraint between 
 them, and Mrs. Jane Waterbury was so happy 
 with her new surroundings that she was im- 
 patient for the arrival of her daughter from St. 
 Louis to share her happiness. 
 
 Mrs. Nancy Waterbury was as old-fashioned as 
 her name. Forty years old, small, well propor- 
 tioned, healthy and vigorous, never idle, never 
 out of humor — a true woman of the old school, 
 whose happy conviction that she had been " elect- 
 
AN EVENTFUL SUNDAY. 207 
 
 ed from all eternity to be saved " showed itself at 
 all times in her countenance. 
 
 The day was consumed in assigning and ar- 
 ranging the house for the joint occupancy of the 
 two families and in talking over the past. 
 
 The next morning was Sunday. The ladies 
 were to go to the Baptist meeting at the old brick 
 meeting-house. Mrs. Jane Waterbury was httle 
 accustomed to attend any place of worship— the 
 only one convenient to her Mississippi home 
 having been that of the Protestant Episcopal 
 denomination. 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Mrs. Nancy Waterbury when 
 she learned that fact, "the Episcopals are evan- 
 geUcal and there are some good Christians among 
 them ; but we have no Episcopal church here, and 
 I will take you to hear Elder Blodget." 
 
 "Is he eloquent?" 
 
 "Yes, he has the eloquence of Christ's words — 
 he knows the Bible through and through." 
 
 "Is he learned?" 
 
 "He is not learned in the world's sense, — he 
 learned to read after he was converted ; but he has 
 preached here for twenty years, and his preaching 
 is wonderful ! " 
 
 " Of course I wiU go— not only to be with you, 
 
208 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 but to hear some wonderful preaching. I never 
 heard any." 
 
 Her companion looked up with a questioning 
 smile, and her httle black eyes sparkled as she 
 said : 
 
 " I am not quite sure as to what you mean ; but 
 I mean that it is wonderful to those who are able 
 to receive it." 
 
 Mr. Waterbury went to meeting with his wife 
 only when he had no plausible excuse for not 
 going. On this occasion he was to drive over to 
 the colored people's church on the river with 
 Mr. Langdon to give him an opportunity of hear- 
 ing "the most remarkable black orator in the 
 country." That was the pretext. But the real 
 reason was that he might show ' ' the river farm " 
 (which was now the property of Mrs. Jane 
 Waterbury) without appearing to break the Sab- 
 bath. 
 
 And at 9 o'clock the two gentlemen started for 
 the drive to the river — four miles away — through 
 a most delightful country. The August sun was 
 pouring its golden beams upon sloping hillsides, 
 well-tilled farms and clumps of forest trees ; and 
 pleasant country houses dotted here and there the 
 choicest spots. 
 
209 
 
 After a drive over the Waterbury farm, and a 
 survey of the buildings, barn, out-houses, orchards 
 and hve-stock, the horses' heads were turned 
 toward the river, half a mile away, on the bank 
 of which stood the "colored Baptist meeting- 
 house." This was a small brick structure, built 
 for white people twenty years before, but now 
 used by the colored folks. The house would 
 barely seat two hundred and fifty people when 
 crowded ; but now it was too hot weather for 
 that, and there were at least a thousand per- 
 sons present— black and white— when our visit- 
 ors arrived. The congregation had, therefore, 
 collected under the trees outside on the river's 
 margin, whence they had a fine view of the 
 stream and the hills upon the opposite side, and 
 the black orator was already well advanced in 
 his discourse, and his fine voice could be heard 
 a long way off. 
 
 This "black orator" (as he was caUed by all) 
 was really black as jet. He had been a slave 
 until freed by the war ; had learned to read from 
 his wife afterward, and had a native eloquence 
 wholly original. He was taU, raw-boned, nervous, 
 possessed of a clear, strong voice and a wonder- 
 ful flow of words. Withal, he was self-possessed, 
 14 
 
210 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 and swayed his black hearers with great power 
 and skill. 
 
 When the gentlemen from Nonabel drove up 
 he was already well on with his discourse. They 
 were in ignorance of his text, but perceived that 
 his theme was the emancipation of his people, 
 and that he was comparing their long-delayed 
 freedom with that of the Jews in Egypt. 
 
 The day was hot, and, with the exception of a 
 group of black-looking clouds above the hills 
 beyond the river, the sky was everywhere unob- 
 scured. 
 
 When Mr. Waterbury and his friend arrived, 
 the preacher was pointing to a brave old oak 
 v/hich crowned the summit of the highest hill on 
 the opposite side of the river, stretching out his 
 long arm and pointing it out to his audience with 
 his ebony finger. 
 
 " When the first colored man was stolen from 
 Africa and brought to America," said he, "that 
 oak tree was growing there ! When the Declara- 
 tion of Independence declared all men equal, and 
 the white folk were freed from England by the 
 Eevolutionary wah, God let the oak still grow 
 and the chain still bind the black to the white 
 man ! 
 
A STARTLING THUNDER-CLAP. 211 
 
 "When the old Confederation was made, the 
 oak grow'd on and the po' slave was still kept in 
 bondage. 
 
 "When the Constitution prepared liberty for 
 the white man and put a future limit to the Afri- 
 can slave trade, God still let-the oak grow on, and 
 the African slave trade continued to prosper. 
 
 "But the oak can not stand forever, and no 
 more could the tree of slavery. 
 
 " God was watching them both. It was the 
 same God that raised up Moses and that freed the 
 Israelites in the fullness of time. And the same 
 God was watching yonder oak upon the hill-top, 
 and he watched the po' slave in the South." 
 
 Then he appeared to rouse hhnself with the 
 stimulus of a new conception. 
 
 "Look at that tree!" said he, pointing his 
 long arm and finger toward it. (All eyes were 
 turned toward the oak.) "Look at it ! How it 
 lifts its proud head like an old giant ! But I tell 
 you," (raising his voice gradually higher), " I tell 
 you that God can send out of that httle black 
 cloud a thunder-clap that will dash it to atom? I " 
 
 There was a vivid flash— a crashing tree-top— 
 and a peal of roaring thunder, and the upper 
 limbs of the old oak came shattered and torn to 
 
212 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 the ground. There were shrieks from the women, 
 but the preacher was fixed as a statue. He did 
 not withdraw his arm, but kept his upward-point- 
 ed finger upon the ruined oak. -Then, as the echo 
 died away in the distant hills and his audience 
 became quiet, he withdrew his arm, and, dropping 
 his voice, said in a tone that thrilled his hearers : 
 
 " So God, by the hand of Abr'am Lincoln, shat- 
 tered the hoary oak of slavery ! Give glory to 
 the God of hghtning, who strikes when the hour 
 comes." 
 
 Loud cries of "Glory to God " went up from 
 the colored people, and the preacher amiounced a 
 well-known emancipation hymn, in which the 
 whole congregation joined, until the grand old 
 river-hills re-echoed with praises. 
 
 " Come ! " said Mr. Langdon ; " I wish to carry 
 away with me the impression I have received. 
 Let us return." 
 
 And without waiting the conclusion of the 
 discourse, the gentlemen returned to Nonabel, 
 discussing the black orator's eloquence, and elo- 
 quence in general, as they went. 
 
 Mr. Langdon's sister had had a very different 
 experience from his, in the preaching of the 
 white minister. She had heard a remarkable dis- 
 
DISCOURSE ON ' ' ELECTION. " 213 
 
 course upon the words: "Therefore hath he 
 mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom 
 he will he hardeneth." 
 
 The subject of the discourse was Paul's justifi- 
 cation of the " doctrine of election," and it lasted 
 nearly two hours. Mrs. Nancy Waterbury was 
 delighted, and Mrs. Jane Waterbury was mysti- 
 fied and astonished ; and when asked if she did 
 not think the discourse an unanswerable argu- 
 ment, she replied that perhaps it was, but that 
 she preferred a doctrine in which God's infinite 
 mercy did not require such a labored defense. 
 
 Then the little Calvinist smiled with a compla- 
 cency which was happily incapable of doubt as to 
 her creed or herself. 
 
 At the dinner table a member of the household, 
 not met before by the Mississippians, was intro- 
 duced to them. "Professor Adams — Mr. Lang- 
 don," said Mrs. Waterbury, "and this lady is 
 another Mrs. Waterbury, Professor." 
 
 The new comer bowed politely, took a seat at 
 table, like one at home, and Mr. Waterbury said: 
 "You were not at church to-day, I suspect" (to 
 the gentleman), " as this is your first appearance 
 to-day. Have you just got home ? " 
 
 " I reached town but ten minutes since, but I 
 
214: THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 was at church — or at meeting, at least — at the 
 colored Baptist, on the river, and I heard and saw 
 the most wonderful things." 
 
 Mr. Waterbury and Mr. Langdon looked signifi- 
 cantly at each other. 
 
 "And what was that?" inquired Mr. Water- 
 bury, disposed to hear the professor's account of 
 the black preacher and the thunder- clap from a 
 nearly cloudless sky. But the j)rofessor was 
 quick of perception, and saw at once that his 
 questioner had either been present or had heard 
 of the wonderful coincidence. 
 
 " Why, were you there ? I was so engaged in 
 the discourse and the thunder-clap that I did not 
 observe you." 
 
 "And that was my own condition," said Mr. 
 Waterbury. ' ' Mr. Langdon and I were certainly 
 there. But as I see that the ladies are all curiosit}^ 
 to hear what happened, let me beg that you will 
 state the facts, in your own way." 
 
 Mr. Adams' face was all aglow in a moment, at 
 the thought of what had happened, and he gave a 
 most impassioned account of the black preacher's 
 discourse and the chmax of lightning in the old 
 oak, with an eloquence equal to that of the 
 preacher, though wholly unlike it. 
 
PROFESSOR ADAMS. 215 
 
 The dinner was untasted ; the servant waited 
 in surprise, with her happy, black mouth half 
 open ; and all seemed reaUy to have forgotten for 
 what purpose they were seated, until the hostess 
 broke the spell by saying, pleasantly: "Ring 
 down the curtain and let us have dinner now." 
 
 The laugh which followed restored forgotten 
 appetite, and the dinner proceeded. 
 
 And while that is progressing, let us have a 
 look at Mr. Adams. 
 
 Lemuel Adams was taU, of good figure and 
 proportions, blue eyes, fair complexion, and soft, 
 light brown hair, and had one of those sympa- 
 thetic voices which always arrest attention. His 
 health and constitution were of the best, and his 
 temperament responded to the eloquent, the 
 musical and the beautiful in all its phases. 
 
 For five years past he had been principal of 
 the Nonabel Normal School, and for the entire 
 period had made his home at Mr. Waterbury's, 
 where he had become a recognized member of 
 the family. 
 
 Though now thirty years old, Mr. Adams had 
 never married, cared little for female society, 
 apparently, and devoted himself to his profession 
 and to study. His room in the Waterbiuy house 
 
216 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 was a library and an art gallery combined, for 
 he was a musician and a lover of the fine arts. 
 And from his window often came strains of rich 
 vocaUzation, accompanied by his own harmony 
 from the cottage organ, which he played Uke an 
 expert. 
 
 Mr. Langdon had been almost as much sur- 
 prised and delighted by Adams' account of the 
 black preacher as he had been on hearing the 
 preacher himself, and on the first opportunity 
 after dinner he took occasion to say so to Mr. 
 Waterbury. 
 
 ''Yes," said Mr. Waterbury, in response, 
 "Adams is a remarkable man, and good as he is 
 able, and useful as he is good. " 
 
 "And you say he is an artist and a musician as 
 well as a teacher ? — I am surprised. In our 
 country such men never amount to much. Is he 
 temperate ? " 
 
 " Never drinks a glass of anything that will 
 intoxicate. " 
 
 "And industrious ? " 
 
 " Never is idle ; unless his devotion to art and 
 music is idleness." 
 
 " Does he write poetry ? " 
 
 "I think not. I never heard that he did so. 
 
A PLEASANT PARTING. 2lT 
 
 His school and his duties there absorb his whole 
 
 heart." 
 
 '' WeU, I shaU always couple him and the nigger 
 preacher together in my memory-one as a model 
 white and the other as a model black man." 
 
 Then the conversation took a business turn, and 
 Mr Langdon requested Mr. Waterbury to be the 
 general agent for his sister in all her business 
 affairs, which office was accepted readily ; and 
 the more so, inasmuch as the request indicated 
 that each had won the confidence of the other. 
 And in the evening, as Mr. Waterbury drove his 
 Mississippi friend to the train by which he was to 
 make his return journey, after an affecting part- 
 ing with his sister, Mr. Langdon took his hand, 
 and, with a candor very unusual, said : " Water- 
 bury, I am now satisfied there is one honest 
 Yankee. I have doubted it before." 
 
 Waterbury laughed heartily, and said : "It is 
 but necessary that the Gray and the Blue should 
 become better acquainted to bring about a lasting 
 friendship between them." 
 And so they parted, friends. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Mrs. Chartervale Writes Her Last Loving Message — A 
 House op Mourning — Genevieve Solves a Mystery — 
 Captain Adams Takes a Journey. 
 
 T The Hermitage all was changed, and the 
 sunshine of haj^i^iness which had usually 
 brightened all within its walls had turned to sor- ' 
 row. When Jane Waterbury received and read 
 her mother's jubilant letter announcing the good 
 news which greeted her at Nonabel, and calling 
 her daughter there to participate in the sudden 
 good fortune, she hastened to Mrs. Chartervale's 
 room to communicate the glad tidings to her to 
 whom all this good fortune was due. She met 
 Miss Tyndal at the door with blanched face, 
 exclaiming : 
 
 " Please call the doctor instantly, Miss Water- 
 bury ! Something dreadful has happened. " 
 
 Without waiting for explanations, Jane ran to 
 
 the library — to the conservatory — to the parlor — 
 
 to the laboratory — caUing through the hall, as she 
 (219) 
 
220 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 ran, for Dr. Chartervale. He made no answer, 
 and no one knew where he was. At the foot of 
 the stairs she met Genevieve, and merely saying, 
 in a frightened way: " Go to your cousin, quick ! " 
 hastened on in search of the doctor. Genevieve, 
 seeing the terror in Jane's face, went up without 
 a question. The doctor had gone to the city, the 
 gardener said, and a messenger was dispatched for 
 him, or for any doctor that could be found. Miss 
 Tyndal's face had betrayed the necessity for that, 
 and Jane acted from impulse. This attended to, 
 she ran into the house, with her mother's letter 
 still open in her hand, a;id up into Mrs. Charter- 
 vale's room. There she found Genevieve and 
 Miss Tyndal hf ting her from her arm-chair, where 
 she had been sitting, onto the bed. 
 
 Genevieve answered Jane's look of inquiry : 
 
 " She has had a shock, and has lost the use of 
 her lower limbs.' 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "Just now — ten minutes ago. Miss Tyndal 
 saw her fall forward onto the arms of the chair, 
 and ran to her. She could not stand — her limbs 
 were powerless; and then she called you. Why 
 doesn't the doctor hurry ? " 
 
 " He has gone to the city." 
 
STRUCK WITH PARALYSIS. 221 
 
 ''We must send for him instantly ! " 
 
 ''I have sent." 
 
 '' Or any physician who can be found ? " 
 
 "Yes ; I have so instructed." 
 
 "You dear, thoughtful girl ! " said Genevieve, 
 seeing that all had been done which could be done 
 until a physician came. 
 
 Seeing the stricken lady reaching for something, 
 Miss Tyndal pushed the rocking-chair close to the 
 bedside, so as to bring the telegraph-key within 
 reach of her hand. She felt it at once, and with 
 unruffled calmness began to signal. ' ' She says she 
 does not suffer," interpreted Miss Tyndal ; "that 
 her limbs are paralyzed ; and now she asks for the 
 doctor." At the same time the paralytic held up 
 her hand to receive the reply. Miss Tyndal found 
 that she understood the pencil signals just as well 
 as usual. 
 
 Directly she signaled with the key, asking who 
 were present, and requesting to be undressed and 
 put to bed, and before that was fully accomplished 
 the doctor's hurried tread was heard upon the 
 stair. He had been overtaken, and had returned 
 with all speed. All drew back in silence, and the 
 doctor sat upon the bedside and put his hand upon 
 the wrist. His wife knew his familiar touch, and 
 
222 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 a gleam of haj^py satisfaction lightened her face 
 with an unwonted vividness of expression. Look- 
 ing at her position, and examining the manner 
 in which she lay, he said, without questioning the 
 others, "Ah, paralysis! that has been my con- 
 stant dread." 
 
 "But, Doctor," said Genevieve, willing to offer 
 an encouragement she did not feel, ' ' I have not 
 seen her face so expressive before in months. Is 
 not that favorable ? ' ' 
 
 "No, Genevieve; not when taken with the 
 paralytic shock. We must prepare ourselves for 
 the worst." 
 
 His voice was calm and composed, but a tear 
 was standing in his eye. 
 
 "Can nothing be done. Doctor?" asked Gene- 
 vieve. "This is dreadful," and her eyes were 
 filled with tears. 
 
 The doctor only replied : ' ' Watch for her sig- 
 nals closely, Miss Tyndal, until I return from the 
 dispensary, please. And please keep notes of all 
 she says — every word. " 
 
 As the doctor went down, his sister came in. 
 She stood silently looking at the patient a mo- 
 ment, and, turning to Genevieve, said : 
 
 " Poor Fanny ! Oh, my poor brother ! He has 
 
THE DYING MESSAGE. 223 
 
 been fearing this for weeks, but spoke of it to 
 no one but me." Then she adjusted the pillows, 
 and Mrs. Chartervale, appearing to recognize her 
 touch, reached out an arm, and, pulling her face 
 down, kissed it fervently. Then she rattled the 
 key. 
 
 " Tell Annie not to mourn. I am going where 
 I shall see those who have gone before, and hear 
 their shouts of welcome. ' There will be no 
 night there.'" Her face fairly shone, and Miss 
 Tyndal said her signals were wonderfully distinct. 
 
 Then Jane Waterbury spoke, while tears of 
 mingled gratitude and sorrow fell : '^Please tell 
 her for me that she has triumphed, and that on 
 her testimony my father's estate is restored, and 
 my mother has gone to receive her own. " 
 
 When this had been communicated to her, she 
 reached out her arm, beckoning ; and when Jane 
 went to her, she embraced and kissed her. 
 
 " Yes, Genevieve," said Jane, " I have just got 
 the letter, and mother and uncle are already gone 
 to Ohio, and I am to follow." 
 
 "Thank God ! " said Genevieve, in a low tone, 
 and Annie and Miss Tyndal added congratula- 
 tions. 
 
 Just then the doctor came in with medicine. 
 
224 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE, 
 
 He had no hope, but he did what might be done ; 
 while Mrs. Chartervale thanked him, declaring 
 it all in vain. 
 
 At bed time there had been no change ; and 
 the doctor was to watch by the bed until mid- 
 night, when Genevieve and Miss Tyndalwere to 
 take his place. 
 
 At midnight the poor woman was apparently 
 sleeping, and the doctor gave place to Genevieve. 
 There was no change in the patient during the 
 night. Genevieve and Miss Tyndal dozed alter- 
 nately in their chairs. At one time, while the 
 latter was watching, Mrs. Chartervale signaled ; 
 and a good many sentences were recorded by Miss 
 Tyndal. And afterward, while that young 
 woman was sleeping in her chair, Genevieve, in 
 looking over those notes, came across these words : 
 *'Tell my cousin, Genevieve Caldwell, that I die 
 in hope that her hand will be given where her 
 heart now is. " It was not the words which sur- 
 prised her ; it was certain features of the hand- 
 writing, and the spelling of her last name with- 
 out the" u." 
 
 A light broke upon her, but she kept her own 
 counsel, and waited. At daylight, when the 
 doctor came in and put his finger upon the pulse, 
 
A MYSTERY SOLVED. 225 
 
 it was almost gone, and the patient sleeping. She 
 waked at his touch, and with difficulty signaled 
 one wovd—" Happy ! " It was her last signal. 
 Paralysis of the lungs and heart soon came on, 
 and the spirit prisoned in darkness and in silence 
 fled from its shattered temple forever. 
 
 Three days later, when the funeral was over 
 and the body had been tenderly laid to rest in one 
 of the pretty valleys of Bellefontaine Cemetery, 
 Miss Tyndal, whose delicate duties were at an 
 end, was about to bid farewell to The Hermitage 
 and its remaining inmates, when Genevieve sent 
 a request that she would come to her room. 
 When she came in, Genevieve closed the door, 
 locked it, and, without offering a chair, and 
 herself standing, said in stern words and face of 
 flame, as she presented the book of minutes taken 
 on the last sad night : 
 
 *' Did you write that sentence ?" 
 
 ''I did; she dictated it." 
 
 '' Did she spell out my name, or give you the 
 signal for it ? " 
 
 " She gave me the signal." 
 
 ^' How do you spell my name ? " 
 
 "As you do, I suppose," replied Miss Tyndal, in 
 confusion. 
 
 15 < 
 
226 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 " No, you do not. Did you write this ? " (show- 
 ing the first note returned to her by her brother). 
 "Answer." 
 
 "Oh, yes. Miss Cauldwell, I wrote it ; but in- 
 deed—indeed " 
 
 " Did you write that also ? " (showing the second 
 note). 
 
 Miss Tyndal bowed her head affirmatively. 
 
 " And perhaps it was you who notified the de- 
 tective where to look for the electrotype plate ? " 
 
 Here Miss Tyndal apj^eared to recover her self- 
 control, and answered : 
 
 "It is my brother's duty to discover such 
 things ; and I felt it my duty, as his sister, to aid 
 him all I could. But indeed — indeed, Miss Cauld- 
 weU ! " 
 
 Genevieve did not permit her to finish the sen- 
 tence. She unlocked the door, threw it open, 
 and, in subdued words of anger and contempt, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Go ! You are too vile for words ! " 
 
 The woman hastened out, glad to get away 
 from her fierce catechiser ; and for a few minutes 
 Genevieve walked the floor, waiting for her hot 
 indignation to cool. 
 
 Then she smiled contemptuously as she put 
 
FAREWELL TO THE HERMITAGE. 227 
 
 away the papers, and said : ''I suppose it is a case 
 of what the gentlemen sometimes call 'pm'e 
 cussedness.' " 
 
 And now Jane Waterbuiy was to leave for her 
 new home at Nonabel. She had written to her 
 mother, announcing the cause of her delay — the 
 death of Mrs. Chartervale, the dear friend to 
 whom they owed so much — and had promised to 
 come on at once. 
 
 But the nearer the day of departure approached 
 the more she hesitated. The Hermitage had 
 become to her a memorable spot. Not only had 
 she been received there with a welcome which 
 filled her heart with gratitude, but there had been 
 awakened a sentiment — the strongest in her na- 
 ture — which had since dominated her whole 
 being. And before saying farewell, she went to 
 her room and with unwonted composure contem- 
 plated her own heart. " And what is lie to me ? " 
 thought she, "that I should love him insanely ! 
 He has not sought my love ; his path and mine 
 can never meet. I will resign him to Genevieve, 
 though my heart break — noble, generous Gene- 
 vieve ! She deserves him. Henceforth I tear his 
 image from my heart, and forget that I have been 
 unwomanly." 
 
228 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Poor girl ! She did not know how strong her 
 infatuation was, and how weak her will. 
 
 She called Genevieve, fell upon her neck, and 
 said: "Oh, Vieve ! I have conquered my mad 
 folly forever. But some day — if I should die 
 before you do — tell him I once loved Mm ! " 
 
 Genevieve returned her embrace without a 
 word. And in half an hour the carriage took 
 Jane Waterbury to the train, amid the warm 
 good-byes of the whole household, and loneliness 
 reigned supreme at The Hermitage. 
 
 Then the poor doctor first realized the depth of 
 his bereavement. He was a j^hilosopher, but a 
 man of the deepest feelings. His philosophy 
 could not restore the lost one who had been to 
 him the good genius of the place. 
 
 "Could all saint, sage or sophist ever writ, 
 Rcpeople that lone tower ? that tenement reflt ? " 
 
 He knew that it could not ; and he wandered 
 silently through the lonely halls and vacant 
 rooms, thinking with incurable regret upon the 
 blind and dumb wife who had been the light of 
 all his later years. The young who have been 
 torn from a loved companion may bind up the 
 wound, and continue the journey of life scarce 
 the worse. But the old— ah, the old ! Their 
 
A HOUSE OF MOURNING. 229 
 
 wounds heal but slowly, often closing only with 
 the grave. 
 
 Annie, the loving sister, saw and appreciated it 
 all, and she redoubled her efforts to lighten up 
 her brother's uncomplaining sorrow. She carried 
 the accustomed flowers daily to Mrs. Chartervale's 
 now vacant room. She persuaded her brother to 
 ride with her in the pleasant September evenings. 
 She read to him, and she called his attention to 
 all the newest scientific items in the magazines. 
 She filled the house and all the grounds around 
 with the sunshine of her cheerfulness. But 
 though the doctor reflected these genial efforts, 
 they did not warm him to forgetfulness. The 
 wound was too deep. 
 
 One morning he said to Genevieve : "It is a 
 terrible thing, Genevieve, to resist the yearnings 
 of one's heart." 
 
 She did not understand whether he apphed 
 these words to her or to himself, so she only re- 
 plied : " Yes ; I know. Doctor, I know." 
 
 "No, I fear you do not know, my dear Gene- 
 vieve. When a noble man worthy the love of a 
 princess offers his heart to you, and your own 
 heart yearns to receive it, to refuse it without 
 more weighty cause than the unreasonable oppo- 
 
230 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 sition of kindred and friends, is to invite a terrible 
 retribution." 
 
 Now she understood him. Her reply was 
 instant : " If Captain Adams again offers me his 
 hand, knowing what it will cost, I shall accept it 
 though all the world forbid ! " And then she ran 
 away to the garden, and looking toward the main- 
 entrance gate of the grounds, she saw there the 
 carrier of the evening paper, who also delivered 
 all postal matter to The Hermitage every evening. 
 The carrier knew her and held up a letter signifi- 
 cantly, and then laying it on the sun-dial near 
 the gate, hastened on. 
 
 Genevieve walked rapidly to the dial, saw that 
 the letter was indeed for her, and taking it to her 
 room, began to read it. This was the letter : 
 
 Planters House, 3 p. m. 
 My Dear Miss Cauldwell : I leave for Mississippi to- 
 morrow night, and shall meet your brother before my 
 return. We have met before, but as he did not then learn 
 my name, I venture to beg of you such a letter of intro- 
 duction as shall merely give my name and state that I am 
 an acquaintance of Dr. Chartervale's and yours. By 
 mailing your reply to me at the Planters to-morrow morn- 
 ing, you will much oblige a friend who does not now pre- 
 sume to ask more. 
 
 Very truly yours, Seth Adams. 
 
GENEVIEVE RECEIVES A LETTER. 231 
 
 Grenevieve had the courage of her convictions. 
 She appreciated the respectful forbearance which 
 did " not presume to ask for more " ; but she was 
 not quite ready, under all the circumstances, to 
 write that letter of introduction. So she imme- 
 diately hunted up Dr. Chartervale, and handing 
 him the letter, asked him to furnish the required 
 introduction. And while the doctor read Captain 
 Adams' note she went off again to her own room. 
 
 Of course the doctor wrote the letter, and in- 
 closed it in another to Captain Adams, the con- 
 tents of which Genevieve never knew. But it 
 did not injure the suit of Captain Adams ; and 
 the good doctor waited the issue with almost as 
 much anxiety as did Genevieve herself. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Miss Waterbury Finds a Cure for the Heartache — Pro- 
 fessor Adams, and the Magic there is in a Name. 
 
 *grs Jane Waterbury, after reaching Cincin- 
 JM, nati, passed on by rail up the Valley of the 
 Miami toward Nonabel, she was delighted beyond 
 measure with the country through which she 
 passed, as one who had been all her life familiar 
 only with plains and nearly level countries would 
 be likely to be. 
 
 The September sun was pouring golden hght 
 upon wooded hills rising almost to mountain 
 height ; upon sloping plains and quiet vaUeys ; 
 upon golden cornfields and orchards ruddy with 
 ripening fruit. Country houses which were 
 almost palaces, and great barns which spoke of 
 plenty and abundant prosperity, were to be seen 
 in a hundred delightful spots, raising still higher 
 the happy anticipations with which Jane Water- 
 bury was approaching her long-delayed heritage. 
 The happiest possible moment is no doubt that 
 
 (333) 
 
234 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 in which hopes and aspirations and anticipations 
 long deferred are at last triumphant. No hours 
 of possession afterward can equal that. And in 
 this happy fruition Jane let her feelings revel as 
 the train sped along the river side and out into 
 the valley and away to Nonabel, forgetting for the 
 time her life in the far South, her school days at 
 Monticello, and all she had seen and known and 
 felt at The Hermitage. 
 
 In this happy state of mind Jane Waterbury 
 met her mother at the station and joined in the 
 happiest embrace of all their lives ! Mr. Water- 
 bury, her uncle, gave her the kindliest welcome, 
 and seating her in the light, open carriage with 
 her mother, himself drove them up the turnpike 
 road, past the Normal School, and up to the 
 Waterbury place. As they passed the fine brick 
 edifice of the Normal School, a gentleman stepped 
 out within ten feet of the carriage, bowed, and 
 passed on. 
 
 " Heavens !" exclaimed Jane, but in an under- 
 tone, '' it's Mr. Adams ! " " Yes," responded Mr. 
 Waterbury, " it is Mr. Adams. Do you happen 
 to know him ? " 
 
 Jane made no reply. She was pale as death ; 
 her hps quivered ; she put her arm about her 
 
THE JOURNEY TO NONABEL. 235 
 
 mother as if fearful of falling. But she raUied 
 almost immediately, and said to her mother, who 
 was frightened : 
 
 ''It was nothing; I am better now; I was 
 dizzy. Is it far to the house ? " 
 
 " Right yonder on the hillside," said her uncle. 
 "We will be there in a minute. The ride and 
 the heat have been too much for you, but we will 
 soon have you all right." 
 
 And he whipped up the team and had her 
 through the gate and at the door within the min- 
 ute. By that time Jane was nearly recovered and 
 had regained her self-control, and she returned 
 her aunt Nancy's warm-hearted welcome with 
 her usual happy smile, and was shown to the 
 room set apart for her special use, overlooking 
 the main doorway and out on to the sidewalk 
 leading to the Normal School building. 
 
 Ten minutes later, looking out of that upper 
 front window, Jane Waterbury saw, coming 
 through the front gate and up to the hall door, 
 the gentleman who had startled her so at the 
 Normal School. This time she controhed her 
 astonishment, and, unseen herself, scrutinized 
 him through the slats of the Venetian blind. 
 , There was the tall figure of Captain Adams ; the 
 
236 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 same walk and manly bearing ; the same fair 
 skin, with dehcate -tinted pink ; the same flowing, 
 light-brown hair ; the same large, kindly, deep- 
 blue eyes which marked the man she knew as 
 Captain Adams. What did it mean — what could 
 it mean ? He came up the steps and entered the 
 house without ringing, and she heard his foot 
 upon the stair as he i^assed to an upper room. 
 Then she sank bewildered into a chair, where 
 she sat half an hour vainly trying to unravel 
 the mystery. If that was not Captain Seth 
 Adams, who was it ? Her uncle had said it 
 was Mr. Adams when the name burst from her 
 lips in the carriage. She knew that Captain 
 Adams claimed to be his father's only heir, and, 
 as she understood, his only son. And when her 
 mother came up to lead her down to dinner, 
 she was still in her travehng habit, mystified as 
 ever. 
 
 "Indeed, mother," said she, not wishing to 
 meet the double of Captain Adams at the table 
 where she. now knew he would be, "I am too 
 tired to go down. Let me rest an hour, and save 
 me a httle something until I come down." 
 
 Familiar with her daughter's waywardness, the 
 mother gave her a scrutinizing gaze and left her, 
 
A MYSTERIOUS GENTLEMAN. 237 
 
 attributing the daughter's assumed fatigue to the 
 long ride and the hot weather. 
 
 She had seen the mysterious gentleman go out 
 and up toward the Normal School, and Jane came 
 down soon after for her dinner. Not a word did 
 she say as to the cause of her delay. 
 
 She appeared to be refreshed and to enjoy her 
 dinner, and her mother felt no further anxiety. 
 But the name of Captain Adams (for which she 
 listened) was not spoken, and she was unable to 
 find any clew to the identity of the man who had 
 so mysteriously awakened her curiosity, and, un- 
 willing to inquire, she could only wait in silence 
 for the solution. 
 
 But supper-time came, and still no allusion to 
 the mysterious Mr. Adams was made by any one, 
 until it was time to be seated at table. Then 
 Mrs. Nancy Waterbury said : "We will not wait 
 for Professor Adams ; something has detained 
 him." 
 
 "Professor Adams!" Jane heard the words 
 with perfect distinctness. But she had seen Pro- 
 fessor Adams, of Illinois, and she knew this was 
 not the "grand old man." 
 
 Then, almost immediately, Mr. Adams came in 
 unceremoniously and was about to take his ac- 
 
238 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 customed seat, bowing pleasantly to the company, 
 when Mr. Waterbury said: "Professor Adams, 
 this is my niece, Miss Jane Waterbury." He 
 took her hand with polite cordiality, saying : 
 ' ' A¥e have been looking for you. Miss Jane, and 
 I missed you at dinner, as I knew you had ar- 
 rived." She replied, "Thank you," in an embar- 
 rassed sort of way ; and said little during the 
 dinner. But as the professor joined in general 
 conversation, she heard again, as it seemed, the 
 very voice and intonation of Captain Adams, of 
 St. Louis. Full, decided, distinct, but soft, round 
 and musical ; she had heard but one voice like that 
 before, and this, as did that, thrilled her to her 
 inmost soul. The voice of one we love is always 
 touching, and there sometimes appears to be a 
 more than sympathetic response, which finds its 
 harmony in the nerve-cords themselves. But the 
 voice of Captain Adams, as before stated, and of 
 Professor Adams at Nonabel, arrested the atten- 
 tion of all ears, and remained ever after as a 
 pleasant memory. What was the secret of it ? 
 Not its pitch, nor its force or softness, nor its 
 melodic intervals, nor any of its modulations ; — 
 nor was it all of these combined. It was — as a 
 mere voice — more in its ^^'y^^re than all things else 
 
AWAITING REVELATIONS. 239 
 
 that its charm lay. But it was more than that— 
 as we all know, for all have heard at least one 
 such voice. There was a sotil in it, and one felt 
 as well as heard it. And now this soul-sympathy 
 which had so wrought upon the heart of Jane 
 Waterbury at St. Louis was called upon again for 
 response at Nonabel. 
 
 What could she do ? One thing she determined 
 to do — and did. She asked no questions ; she 
 awaited revelations. She learned little- by little 
 that Professor Adams was principal of the 
 Normal School (where she herself was to go) ; 
 that he had acted in that capacity for a number 
 of years ; that he was esteemed and respected by 
 all ; and that he was unmarried, and, so far as 
 anybody knew, heart free. 
 
 That was about all she learned. 
 
 And so autumn wore away, and Jane was 
 happy, and only very dimly conscious of changes 
 going on in her own heart. 
 
 Little by httle, day after day, a psychical and 
 physiological substitution, as it may be called, 
 was transferring a love which had been morbid 
 toward one object to another equally worthy, 
 and was becoming healthful and strong. Such 
 substitutions do occur, even with the animal, 
 
240 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 where reason is absent and blind instinct is the 
 only guide. 
 
 How tenderly the mother cat, bereaved of her 
 kittens, sometimes nurtures with fond affection 
 even the rat's forsaken young ! How the hen 
 with her brood of ducks watches them with 
 tender care, lest, in violation of her own instinct 
 of safety, they go upon the water ; or how, when 
 robbed of the eggs which she is so devotedly 
 warming with her own body, she shows the same 
 devotion to tlie substituted stones ! And how in 
 all these animals where the maternal passion has 
 had its day and the excited brain has cooled to- 
 gether with it, proper emotion and all manifesta- 
 tion of affection cease ! ■ It is probably not true 
 (as held by some "advanced" scientists) that 
 mind and emotion are only affections of organ- 
 ized matter in the brain, but it is certain that the 
 manifestation of the stronger passions and high 
 activity of certain portions of the brain are con- 
 comitant, and that they rise and fall together. 
 The brooding hen " sets" while the physical and 
 emotional excitement continues, and no opposi- 
 tion or deprivation can subdue the instinct. And 
 the same blind instinct expends itself upon what 
 is offered to it. In the same way animals accept 
 
AN OLD IDOL SUPPLANTED. 241 
 
 substitutes for their young ; those which are 
 hereditary enemies consort together, lost dogs 
 attach themselves to new masters, and inconstant 
 men — and sometimes women — transfer their love 
 by substitution to another. And when the one is 
 hopeless or impossible it can not be reprehensible 
 to find an object in another ; for only a foolish 
 hen will brood with hopeless constancy upon an 
 empty nest. 
 
 At any rate, whatever the philosophy may be, 
 a substitution was slowly going on in the heart 
 of Jane Waterbury, by which an idol at Nonabel 
 was being set up in the place of one she had left 
 behind. And this substitution went on all the 
 more naturally and without shock from the won- 
 derful resemblance between the two physically, 
 morally, intellectually and socially. And he, all 
 unaware of his advantages, besieged her heart 
 with all the careful strategy of a first battle, hav- 
 ing thought to himself from the first week of 
 their meeting: "Here, at last, is one I have 
 waited for all these years." There was nothing 
 strikingly beautiful about Jane Waterbury. Her 
 slight, well-proportioned figure, brunette com- 
 plexion, jet-black hair and large gray eyes, flash- 
 ing and languishing by turns, and her soft, low 
 
 16 
 
242 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 voice, rippling or murmuring in its fitful changes, 
 were all in perfect keeping. But that did not 
 make up the image which had been Lemuel 
 Adams' ideal. And yet, when he found himself 
 in the society of Jane Waterbury, and saw her 
 going about among her friends as the very soul 
 of cheerfulness and vivacity, filling the house 
 with happy laugh and song, he banished the old 
 ideal forever. He had not thought of one so 
 petite ; but this slight figure was perfection. He 
 had not looked for raven locks ; but here was jet 
 more beautiful than gold. He had always sup- 
 posed Ms fate must be flashed from blue, not 
 gray, eyes ; but now the bolt which reached his 
 heart came from those great gray orbs, and he 
 knew his hour had come. With her musical taste 
 he was especially taken. Coming home from his 
 school duties, one day, unexpectedly early, he 
 heard some one playing on his own cottage organ 
 up stairs. 
 
 "Who is that?" inquired he of Mrs. Nancy 
 Waterbury, in pleased surprise. 
 
 "Oh, that is Miss Jane; she and her mother 
 are in your library. We have no instrument 
 down stairs, you know, and I sent Jane to try 
 your organ." 
 
ORGAN VERSUS PIANO. 2-13 
 
 He went softly to the foot of the stair and 
 listened until the music ceased ; and then going 
 up and knocking gently at the half -open door, 
 said : 
 
 "May I come in?" 
 
 "Oh, Professor," exclaimed Jane in reply, 
 "you have caught us ! " 
 
 "Come right in," interposed the mother; 
 "Jane was so hungry for a little of her own 
 music that we ventm-ed to come up in your 
 absence." 
 
 "Well," said the professor, going in, "I am 
 also hungry for some of her music, and she must 
 keep right on, just as if I were not here." It was 
 the music of her presence he was hungering for, 
 though he did not say so. 
 
 "I hate the piano!" said Jane, with sharp 
 emphasis, as the professor came forward. 
 
 "Indeed !" he replied; "I thought all young 
 ladies worshiped the ' pi-an-er ' ! " 
 
 "I know one who does not, and I honor your 
 good taste in having an organ instead." 
 
 "Well, now. Miss Jane, what is the matter 
 with the piano as a musical instrument ? " in- 
 quired he, glad to find she had no better opinion 
 of it than he himself had. 
 
2i± THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 " I think it is not a musical instrument at all ! " 
 replied Jane. 
 
 " Oh, terrible ! " replied the professor ; " what 
 will all the young ladies say ? " 
 
 ' ' I care not what they say. It is only a machine 
 — guitar at best, and not equal to that as an 
 accompaniment to the voice. For solo purposes 
 it is absurd— all staccato, without swell or modu- 
 lation, without 2:)rolongation, and without soul." 
 
 ' ' Bravo ! " exclaimed the professor. '^ But if it 
 be only a machine-guitar, is it not a very perfect 
 machine ? " 
 
 " No, sir 1 " (and her eyes flashed as she replied). 
 "It is not even that ; tox the lower notes crash 
 into discords, and the high ones are no more en- 
 during than the snapping springs of a French 
 music box. And more than all that, there is such 
 a fatal facihty in its manipulation that players 
 are tempted to lose all love of tone, rhythm and 
 melody in the grand crash of finger gymnastics 
 and noise. Why do not girls learn the violin? 
 That is the only perfect instrument, and will give 
 back all the soul you put into it. And, besides 
 that, much of the so-caUed music — even of the 
 noted composers — has no melody, no rhji^hm, no 
 musical form or symmetry, but is only a souUess 
 
A PLEASED PROFESSOR. 245 
 
 succession of measured sounds. They are not 
 music at all, any more than mere words in 
 cadenced accent are poetry." 
 
 In most of this the professor concurred. But 
 he was more pleased to find she had strong opin- 
 ions of her own than to know they so nearly 
 agreed with his. If there was any truth in the 
 saying of a noted wit, — that ''most women have 
 no characters at all," — then here, at least, was a 
 marked exception ; for Jane Waterbury had 
 many points of character strongly marked, and 
 their expression pleased him. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The Captain and the Colonel Adjust Their Differences — 
 A Merry Meeting— Genevieve's Brother Writes a 
 Letter to Genevieve. 
 
 T need hardly be said that Jane Waterbury was 
 very happy all these autumn days. The cloud 
 under which she had hved all her years had been 
 dissipated. The dependent position of herself and 
 mother upon her uncle' s bounty had been changed 
 for assured independence. Her mother was so 
 happy in the contemplation of her own and her 
 daughter's good fortune that she appeared almost 
 to set back the shadow on the dial of her life. 
 Her Uncle Waterbury treated her with great 
 kindness, and her aunt seemed never so happy as 
 when ministering to the happiness of her new- 
 found niece. In the full enjoyment of this new 
 life and its surroundings, Jane wrote a character- 
 istic letter to her dear friend and associate at St. 
 Louis : 
 
 My Dear Genevievb : I have been just too happy to 
 write, or 1 should have written to you long ago. And 
 (347) 
 
2tl:S THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 this is my very first letter to anybody since I left The 
 Hermitage. Oh, that poor Mrs. Chartervale ! It makes 
 me cry to think about her. And the doctor's sister Annie 
 — she is just too good for anything ! Does the major ever 
 call ? Major Dabny is a gentleman, and knows the worth 
 of Annie Chartervale. But she was not made for him or 
 anybody else, I think. Mother and I are somebody here. 
 Uncle and Aunt Waterbury are kind as they can be ; and 
 I will say no more against Yankees, for my aunt is a 
 Yankee, and the dearest little black-eyed woman you ever 
 saw. She believes in the doctrine of election, and thinks 
 (she really does) that God elected her from the foundation 
 of the world to be saved ! And, indeed, I think she is 
 right, for her little black eyes are flashing with loving 
 kindness all the day. This is the most delightful country 
 I ever saw, and when you and you-know- who are married, 
 come right here to our house on your bridal tour — and as 
 much sooner as you please, for you are my dearest friend, 
 and we will entertain you right royally. Remember me 
 to x\nnie and the good Dr. Chartervale, and believe me, 
 As ever, your loving 
 
 Jane Waterbuky. 
 
 P. S. — I have something else to tell you, but can't tell 
 you now. But you need never deliver that dying con- 
 fession I left with you. Jane. 
 
 If the enterprising missionary Jesuit who dis- 
 covered the Mississippi really traversed its waters 
 downward to the Arkansas, nobody who has ever 
 repeated the journey, even in a steamboat, can 
 
DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI. 249 
 
 blame him for turning back. He must have 
 thought it the River of Death— without begin- 
 ning or end— as he passed its muddy miles of 
 monotonous shore, fringed with a low margin of 
 gray-green willows so much of the weary way. 
 Seth Adams was no stranger to the great water- 
 way, and as he passed under the big bridge, on 
 board the fine steamer Minnehaha, at nine o'clock 
 at night, bound for the town of Prentiss, he well 
 knew that, with the exception of the bustling 
 colony aboard, he was leaving the busy world be- 
 hind him. 
 
 He sat at the stern and watched the receding 
 city. The thousand fights upon the levee sank in 
 the distance lower and lower, untfi they appeared 
 to rest upon the water. The ever-present smoke- 
 cloud above the city and the black belching of a 
 dozen steamers at the wharf threw ajurid canopy 
 over aU things visible, and no sound was to be 
 heard but the rumbfing of the engines and the 
 beat of the boat's wheels upon the water. The 
 night was intensely dark, but not foggy ; and, as 
 our captain stood, silent, near the pilot-house, 
 for nearly an hour, and watched the pilot thread- 
 ing the mazes of a low-water channel, in dark- 
 ness so dense that nothing was visible to un- 
 
250 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 trained eyes but water and stars, he felt the same 
 wonder which he had felt before, and which so 
 many others have felt. Hoiv does the pilot trace 
 his devious way in darkness, when all the shore- 
 hne looks the same to others, and most of it is 
 invisible? ''But I might as well ask," thought 
 he, ''how the trained musician detects one vi- 
 bration too much or too little per second, when 
 there should be exactly twenty thousand ! It is 
 the work of trained organs, which untrained ones 
 can not understand." 
 
 On the morning of the fourth day Captain 
 Adams was landed at the little wharf -boat at 
 Prentiss. As he walked ashore, a stalwart black 
 man, standing with a whip in his hand at the 
 head of a mule, attached to a diminutive dray, 
 accosted him : ' ' Mornin', boss ! Got eny mo' 
 baggage dan dat ? " 
 
 When the captain was last in the South, the 
 negros had generally said " master," but most of 
 them had now come to say "boss," instead. 
 
 "No, I have no more. Do you know where 
 Colonel Cauldwell lives ? " said the captain. 
 
 "Well, I does. Out on de Rosedale road, 'bout 
 five mile, sah." 
 
 "As far as that?" 
 
RESIDENCE OF COL, CAULDWELL. 251 
 
 " Jes' SO, an' it might be mo', boss. Would you 
 want a good boss ? " 
 
 "Well, yes, if it's that far. Where can I ob- 
 tain a horse?" 
 
 The colored man soon helped the captain to 
 "a good boss," and he struck out for the resi- 
 dence of Colonel Cauldwell. 
 
 There was nothing very inviting in the country 
 over which the captain passed until he reached, as 
 he supposed, the residence of Colonel Cauldwell. 
 He saw, nearly half a mile from the road in 
 which he was riding, a pleasant looking verandaed 
 house on comparatively elevated ground, and 
 surrounded by trees and shrubbery; and while he 
 hesitated to assure himself he was right, a man 
 riding a mule came up from the opposite direction. 
 He was dressed in a gray summer suit, and wore 
 a slouched hat with very broad brim ; and, on 
 meeting him, Adams recognized him as Colonel 
 Cauldwell, the man he had met upon the train in 
 Illinois. Accosting him, he said : 
 
 "Is this the Rosebud road, sir?" bowing 
 politely at the same time. 
 
 "Yes, sub, this is the — why, good morning, 
 sub ! I think I met you on the c'yars last spring 
 in Illinois." 
 
252 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 "Why, yes ! How do you do, Colonel Cauld- 
 well ? I remember you well, and am happy to 
 meet you. Is that your place ?" pointing. 
 
 "Yes, suh ; come right in and have dinner 
 with me. I Avant to talk with you." 
 
 "Thank you. Colonel, I meant to have hunted 
 you up, and I will stop with you now." 
 
 When the gentlemen had ridden up to the house 
 a negro took the horses, and the colonel seated 
 his guest in the shade on the veranda. They 
 talked of St. Louis, of the Hayes administration, 
 and, at last, of the meeting on the Illinois rail- 
 road train. 
 
 "I think you said you still hated the Yankees, 
 Colonel ?" said Adams. 
 
 "Hate 'em! I shall die hatin' 'em, suh," re- 
 phed Colonel Cauldwell. "Of course, I know 
 you are no genuine Yankee, but a Western man. 
 But I must say that since the cussed Yanks burnt 
 my town and nearly roasted me, I can only think 
 of one man in the whole Federal army I don't 
 hate ! " 
 
 "They burned Prentiss, I remember," said 
 Captain Adams. "Who is the man who is so 
 fortunate as not to be hated, Colonel ? What did 
 he do?" 
 
THE colonel's STORY. 253 
 
 " Do ! Let me tell you. When the soldiers set 
 fire to the town I was lyin' up stairs in my own 
 house, with both legs broken by a shell, and in 
 splints. The cussed nigger who was nussin' me 
 ran off and left me to burn to death. I sw'ar I 
 thought I was gone ! Well, suh, a soldier heard 
 me calhn', an' he saturated a blanket with water, 
 ran up stairs to me, put me on his back with the 
 wet blanket over me, and carried me out through 
 smoke and fire, and saved my hfe at the risk of 
 his own. Fact, suh, sho' as you're born ; and I 
 beheve I would die for that fellow if it were 
 necessary.'' 
 
 "What did he do with you?" inquired Cap- 
 tain Adams. 
 
 "He carried me on board the steamer Queen 
 of the West, and turned me over a prisoner to 
 the surgeon, and afterward had me exchanged. 
 Think of that, suh ! Can I ever forget that ? " 
 
 "I should think not," replied Adams, a good 
 deal embarrassed and somewhat agitated. What 
 was the soldier's name ? " 
 
 "His name was Adams, suh — Lieutenant 
 Adams, of the engineers." 
 
 Captain Adams here turned his head away, 
 while he took from his pocket Dr. Chartervale's 
 
254 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 letter of introduction, and, handing it to the 
 colonel, he said : 
 
 "I should have given you this before ; please 
 read it now. Colonel." 
 
 Colonel Cauldwell opened the letter, and read 
 these words : 
 
 Colonel Cauldwell will allow me to introduce a gentle- 
 man whom he has met l:)efore — my esteemed friend, and 
 his preserver from a fiery death, Captain Seth Adams. 
 Your friend, W. Chartervale. 
 
 Cauldwell read the letter hastily, sprang to his 
 feet, and grasping Adams by both hands, ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 '' Why, cuss me, is it possible ? I surrender at 
 discretion ; you have got me, and there is no 
 retreat. But why, in God's name, didn't you 
 tell me long ago, and save poor Vieve all this 
 trouble ?" 
 
 " Because, Colonel, I did not choose to buy her 
 love with her gratitude. " 
 
 ' ' And you tell me she doesn't know that you 
 were the Lieutenant Adams who carried away 
 her brother through fire to safety ? " 
 
 '"She certainly does not," replied Captain 
 Adams. " I preferred to win her heart, if at all, 
 
THE COLONEL SURRENDERS. 255 
 
 by a straightforward attack. And, besides that, 
 Colonel, you never asked me for my name." 
 
 "And I believe, Captain Adams," said the 
 colonel, "you had no other business down here in 
 Mississippi but to see me. " And then he roared 
 with laughter as he took the captain's hand and 
 pulled him into the dining-room, saying : 
 
 "Come, we'll eat on that ; and, as Major Jack 
 Downing used to say, ' I am yours to serve.' " 
 
 At the urgent solicitation of his host Captain 
 Adams decided to remain until the next day, and 
 after supper in the evening they sat on the 
 veranda smoking and fighting mosquitoes for 
 hours, and talking over war times and the pres- 
 ent state of feeling between the people who had 
 fought on opposing sides. There was perfect 
 good feehng, and both gentlemen appeared to be 
 candid in what they said to each other. 
 
 "And do you Southern people expect to be so 
 bitter toward the North forever ? " inquired Adams 
 at one time. 
 
 " Well," was the reply, "forever is a longtime. 
 I think I shall still feel so till my dying day, suh ; 
 I can't help it." 
 
 "But large numbers of the Southern people 
 akeady feel differently, do they not ? " 
 
2ob THE GRAY AXD THE BLUE. 
 
 '^ Yes, I suppose they do ; but large numbers 
 of our people were for the Union and against the 
 Confederacy during the wa', and of course they 
 feel reconciled." 
 
 " But I am led to beheve that a large proportion 
 of the Confederate soldiers are disj^osed to accept 
 the result philosophically, and to cultivate good 
 feeling toward the Northern people." 
 
 " Yes ; just as the major ate his crow — he could 
 eat it, but he didn't hanker after it ! " 
 
 " Well, Colonel, there was certainly no humili- 
 ation in the defeat of the Confederacy." 
 
 "Humiliation !" exclaimed the colonel, becom- 
 ing excited ; " no, suh ! , It was mo' glorious than 
 your victory. The world never saw such a gallant 
 struggle befo'. And the men who beat us were 
 our race and blood, and ought to be our equals, 
 man for man. But they largely outnumbered us; 
 they had all advantages at sea and the prestige of 
 the old flag ; they had the manufactories of arms 
 and the skilled men by thousands in all depart- 
 ments ; they suffered no blockade, and had the 
 free commerce of the world ; they had abundant 
 supplies, while we were exhausted and nearly 
 starving ; their men were clothed well, fed well, 
 armed well, and possessed all the advantages 
 
DEFEAT NO HUMILIATION. 257 
 
 which an overflowing commissaiy, transportation 
 and hospital department could give. Humilia- 
 tion ! My Grod, suh, we are proud of such a 
 defeat ! " 
 
 "Then why not shake hands and be friends for 
 the mutual good of all sections ? " asked Captain 
 Adams. " Our country is your country, our flag 
 is your flag, with all it implies and assures." 
 
 "Oh, yes, Captain, that is all so. And I sup- 
 pose that closer intercourse — railroad and com- 
 mercial dealings, and the interlocking common 
 interests of the sections — will at last wipe out 
 animosities. But it will be when I am dead." 
 
 After a brief silence, the colonel hastily refilled 
 and lighted his pipe, and continued : 
 
 " But right h'yer, Captain, let me say, they who 
 assert that the Southern people are not now loyal 
 to the old flag, and patriotic as the North ever 
 was, lie—ov they do not understand us. There is 
 sitting now in the presidential chair a man who 
 —as I beheve and the whole Democratic party of 
 the South (and of the North, too,) believe — was 
 never elected ! And we know (or believe we do) 
 that our own candidate was elected and is at this 
 moment the lawful President of the United 
 States. Did we rebel and go to war over this 
 17 
 
258 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 outrage ? We could have done so with an almost 
 certainty of success ; for, besides the Southern 
 Democrats, almost one-half of the Northern peo- 
 ple are Democrats. What did we do ? We sub- 
 mitted to a great wrong for the sake of peace. 
 Was there no patriotism in that ? " 
 
 "I admit there was," replied Captain Adams ; 
 " but your people had not yet recovered from the 
 disaster and poverty of war, and were not in a 
 condition to resist." 
 
 " No, suh ; you are wrong thar. Captain. Pros- 
 perity is a safeguard to peace. A satisfied people 
 never willingly go to war if they have to do their 
 own fighting. It was not exhaustion, suh, which 
 makes my people and my party submit to this 
 great wrong, for the Democrats of the North at 
 least are prosperous ; it was love of country, suh, 
 and it speaks mo' for the stability of the United 
 States government than did the overthrow of the 
 Confederacy. " 
 
 ''Certainly, Colonel," replied Captain Adams, 
 " I think the forbearance of your party has not 
 been fully appreciated ; but you should remember 
 that the Republicans feel just as certain that their 
 candidate was lawfully elected as you do that 
 yours was. I suppose the truth is, no man knows 
 
RETURN TO ST. LOUIS. 259 
 
 or ever can know ivlio was lawfully elected. It 
 was nearly a tie, and unjustifiable proceedings 
 in Florida, Louisiana, South Carolina and Oregon 
 were such as to destroy all possibility of knowing 
 who was lawfully chosen. It is an unfortunate 
 feature in our system that there is greatest danger 
 where there is least call for it — when the votes on 
 both sides are nearly equal. For in that case half 
 the people will be represented by the success of 
 either candidate." 
 
 It was now nearly midnight, and the discussion 
 ended, as usual, by each gentleman going to bed 
 of " the same opinion still." 
 
 Next morning, after breakfast, Colonel Cauld- 
 well prepared a letter to his sister Genevieve, and 
 then rode with Captain Adams to Prentiss, where 
 they waited an entire day for an upward-bound 
 boat. And when a steamer came in sight Colonel 
 CauldweU handed his letter to the captain, saying : 
 "This is to my sister Genevieve, care of Dr. 
 Chartervale. Good-bye, and good luck ! " And 
 the one went to his plantation and the other up 
 the muddy river. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 At the Fair and After— Views op Pilot Knob and Shep- 
 herd's Mountain— An Unknown Artist. 
 
 F you ever intend to visit the great St. Louis 
 fair (which, of course, you will, if the oppor- 
 tunity offers), go early — very early, — not with the 
 crowd, but as long before as possible ; and go in 
 your own conveyance, or one you can control as 
 to time of going and returning. You will learn 
 why further on. 
 
 It was "fair-time" when Captain Adams 
 reached St. Louis on his return from Mississippi. 
 Miss CauldweU had returned to MonticeUo, to 
 which place her brother s letter, brought up the 
 river by Captain Adams, was forwarded by mail. 
 Disappointed in not being able to meet Genevieve 
 before her departure, he resolved to console him- 
 self by doing as everybody else appeared to be 
 doing — he resolved to go to the fair. He called 
 for Major Dabny, and together they sought a 
 carriage. Vain attempt ! Not an unlet vehicle 
 
 (261 
 
262 TJptE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 V 
 
 remained in all St. Louis. Hundreds of car- 
 riages had already gone out, and hundreds more 
 were on the way ; carriages, coaches, buggies, 
 gigs, phaetons, wagons, carts, — every form of 
 vehicle, — loaded with men, women and child- 
 ren, — white, black and all intermediate shades, 
 — and drawn by an almost equal variety of 
 horses and mules. Surging through the crowd- 
 ed streets, filled with stragglers seeking the fair 
 on foot, the multifarious cavalcade proceeded. 
 Gay flags floated from the houses by the way ; 
 all faces were lighted up with the same in- 
 tensity of purpose, as if the crack of doom 
 had come — the purpos.e of getting to the great 
 fair before everybody else got there. And then 
 the street-car lines ! • If you have any sym- 
 pathy to spare for suffering beasts, expend it 
 now upon the poor mule. All of the car lines 
 empty their living freight into the three or four 
 lines which converge near the fair grounds, and 
 these are crowded almost to suffocation — so the 
 dusty, sweating, reeking mass moves slowly on- 
 ward. 
 
 Adams and Dabny take a car ; they can do no 
 better. It is already full, but they hold on and 
 stand. Cars in front and cars behind for two or 
 
ON THE WAY TO THE FAIR. 263 
 
 three miles on the same track ! If one stoj^s, all 
 behind stop. Half way out the exhausted mules 
 drawing the car taken by Captain Adams fall in 
 their tracks. Down comes the great lash upon 
 their backs. Still the mules do not recover. The 
 driver of the next car behind adds his persuasive 
 whip to that of the other. It is in vain ; the 
 mules can suffer and bear, but they can not rise. 
 They are taken out ; the passengers leave the car, 
 and it is moved from the track to make way for 
 others, while rough men swear at the delay, 
 children cry, and one woman thanks God that she 
 is " out of that car alive." 
 
 And so the great gate of the fair grounds and 
 Zoological Garden is reached at last. 
 
 But who shall describe the indescribable ? 
 Imagine the crowd of a hundred thousand people 
 of all ages, sexes, colors and conditions, gathered 
 in the grand park ; the Oriental zoological build- 
 ings, fiUed with beasts and living wonders of 
 nearly all the earth ; the lakes, the boats, the 
 great amphitheatre, and grand promenade and 
 seats for more than a hundred thousand ; the 
 grand mechanical and agricultural and art dis- 
 play, and the thousand other attractions of which 
 St. Louis is so justly proud. 
 
264 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 But no man can see a tithe of these in one day. 
 Captain Adams and his friend did not attempt it. 
 They passed straight to the art exposition. Be- 
 fore some landscapes in India ink, where a group 
 of artists were gathered, they met a mutual 
 friend, — a French gentleman named Eey, and a 
 painter of some note, — who exclaimed : 
 
 " Ah ! Captain Adams ; see there ! " And he 
 pointed to four India ink views of Pilot Knob 
 and Shepherd's Mountain. 
 
 "What about them?" inquired both Adams 
 and Dabny. 
 
 ' ' Very fine ! very fine, indeed ! " replied the 
 French gentleman. "I not see so good work in 
 Indian ink from any woman. Look at that sky ! 
 look at the perfect atmospheric perspective, which 
 is so much difficult in Indian ink." 
 
 "But is it the work of a lady ?" inquired Cap- 
 tain Adams, pushing up nearer to read the at- 
 tached card. Then he beckoned to Major Dabny 
 to come also. And this is what they read on the 
 attached card : 
 
 "Views of Pilot Knob and Shepherd's Moun- 
 tain.— By a lady. Exhibited by Dr. Chartervale. " 
 
 They both recognized the work at once. The 
 views had been worked up from those made by 
 
FOUR INDIA INK VIEWS. 265 
 
 Genevieve Cauldwell, which they had seen in 
 pencil. 
 
 Observing the gentlemen interchange looks of 
 recognition, Mr. Rey said : 
 
 " You know Miss Chartervale ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Adams, with a srhile ; "we 
 both have the pleasure of knowing Miss Annie. 
 There is her brother— Dr. Chartervale— coming 
 this way. Shall I introduce you ? " 
 
 "It will make me thank you very much," 
 replied the French artist, fully confident he 
 had learned the name of the artist of the India 
 ink views, which no other artist had been able 
 to do. 
 
 Mr. Eey was dehghted with Dr. Chartervale, 
 stuck to him for half an hour, and received a 
 cordial invitation to The Hermitage, not doubting 
 that he should there meet the lady who was so 
 fine an artist in India ink, and who, as others 
 had guessed, in his presence, was Miss Annie, the 
 doctor's sister. 
 
 Captain Adams was surprised and delighted at 
 these fine specimens of Genevieve's artistic work, 
 and wished to purchase them. But the views 
 were not for sale. His only chance was to obtain 
 the artist with the pictures. 
 
266 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE, 
 
 The two friends having satisfied their curiosity, 
 took an early train, to avoid the crowd, and re- 
 turned to the city ; and in an evening paper's 
 notes of the fair, Captain Adams found the Pilot 
 Knob India inks praised highly for their "almost 
 photographic likeness to the originals, and the 
 artistic superiority of the work, as admitted by 
 the many capable artists who had examined the 
 pictures." And the paper added that "these fine 
 views ai'e attributed to a pupil of Monticello 
 Seminary in Illinois— a Southern lady, whose 
 name we could not learn." He was so pleased 
 with this notice that he marked a prepaid wrap- 
 per and mailed it, addressed: "Miss Genevieve 
 CauldweU, care of the Principal, Monticello Sem- 
 inary, 111." 
 
 On the succeeding Sunday afternoon Captain 
 Adams found himself so restless and uneasy that 
 he took the Tower Grove street cars at Fourth 
 and Pine streets, rode as near The Hermitage as 
 he could reach, and walked over to have an hour's 
 chat with Dr. Chartervale and Annie — the chief 
 purpose of which, however, was the chance of 
 hearing indirectly from Genevieve. At the out- . 
 side gate of The Hermitage he found a horse and 
 buggy standing at the hitching post, and wonder- 
 
AN ENTHUSIASTIC FRENCH ARTIST. 267 
 
 ing whose it might be, passed in and up to the 
 front portico. There, sitting in the shade, he 
 found the doctor and the enthusiastic French 
 gentleman, Mr. Eey. He had been at The Her- 
 mitage for more than an hour, hoping to meet 
 Miss Annie, but finding no excuse for asking to 
 see her. She had not made her appearance. She 
 had been informed of his mistake as to the 
 authorship of the Pilot Knob pictures, and she 
 purposely kept away, as she did not wish to ap- 
 propriate Genevieve's honors, and was equally 
 unwilling to betray the name of the real artist. 
 But Annie had caught a ghmpse of the captain as 
 he came in, and soon made her appearance, hop- 
 ing to escape the French artist's unmerited com- 
 phments with his aid. But the Frenchman was 
 not easily balked. Immediately on being intro- 
 duced, he said, with excessive politeness : 
 
 "I had the much pleasure. Miss Chartervale, of 
 seeing your excellent work at the exposition. 
 Not many young ladies can execute such Indian 
 inks, I think." 
 
 " Oh, indeed, Mr. Rey, you are giving me credit 
 I do not deserve." 
 
 "Ah, Miss Chartervale, you American ladies 
 are too much modest. I have not seen better 
 
268 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 drawing, perspective, atmosphere and sky in this 
 country. And in Indian ink they are so diffi- 
 cult." 
 
 "But I do not work in India ink, Mr. Rey. 
 You have been misled. " 
 
 ''Impossible! Are not those Pilot Knob pict- 
 ures done in Indian ink ? " 
 
 "I suppose they are, sir; but I am not en- 
 titled to any credit for them. Walk into the 
 library ; we have some rather rare pictures there 
 — some of them executed in Paris, and brought 
 over some years ago by the late Mrs. Charter- 
 vale.'* 
 
 Mr. Rey gladly accepted Annie's invitation, 
 saying, as he passed to the library, that her name 
 was originally French, and that she came by her 
 art talent by inheritance. To this Annie made 
 no reply, except to shake her head in deprecation 
 of any such compliment. Then the Frenchman 
 turned and put the question squarely : 
 
 "Am I mistaken. Miss Chartervale ? Did you 
 not execute the Pilot Knob pictures ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Rey," replied Annie, 
 now fairly cornered, "but you will oblige me 
 by not insisting upon an answer. " 
 
 " Ah ! Ha, ha, I thank you ! " exclaimed Rey, 
 
THE SECRET DISCLOSED. 269 
 
 in reply, now certain thiit Annie was the painter, 
 and too modest to acknowledge it. 
 
 They wandered through the library for some 
 time, where there were many pictures, some of 
 them very meritorious. The Frenchman was 
 delighted, and was loud in his expressions of 
 gratitude. But on a table he found an open port- 
 folio of engravings, and among these he found 
 Genevieve's original sketches of Shepherd's Moun- 
 tain and Pilot Knob, where she had inadvertently 
 left them. Great was his delight, for he had half 
 suspected (with some other artists) that the India 
 ink pictures were copies from photographs. 
 
 " Alia ! Miss Chartervale, here is the proof," he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 Annie could carry her evasion no further. She 
 pointed to Genevieve's name in the corner of 
 each sketch, and the date, saying : 
 
 ''I did my best to keep Miss Cauld well's secret 
 for her, but her own oversight has defeated me. 
 Yes, Mr. Rey, the sketch was made in my pres- 
 ence on a visit to Pilot Knob, and my brother — 
 Dr. Chartervale— thinks she is quite an artist. 
 That is her photo over the mantlepiece." 
 
 The excitable Frenchman looked at the photo- 
 graph with apparent rapture. It was a fine 
 
270 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 cabinet portrait, in the best style of the art, and 
 did the original full justice. He took it to the 
 window for better light, saying as he went : 
 
 "Did you call the young lady ' Genevieve ?' " 
 
 " That is her name." 
 
 " I knew it ! " said Eey. " She is French or of 
 French descent — Genevieve." 
 
 '^ Yes," responded Annie, "the name may be 
 French, but Miss Cauldwell is of Scotch-Irish 
 descent, and her people were first-rate rebels in 
 the late war." 
 
 Eey was still devouring the picture of Gene- 
 vieve, and Annie suspected, that, if any man 
 ever really did fall in love through a picture's 
 shadow of an original, Eey had fallen in love 
 with Genevieve. 
 
 " All the better for being a rebel," said he, re- 
 plying to Annie. "Is she from New Orleans ? " 
 
 " My brother, the doctor, will inform you of the 
 lady's home, sir ; please inquire of him." 
 
 Mr. Eey replaced the picture, and with a polite 
 bow begged Annie's pardon, saying that in his 
 admiration of the pictures at the exposition and 
 the photograph of the artist he had, in his 
 thoughtless enthusiasm, presumed too far. 
 
 He soon after took his leave and passed out to 
 
PLEASANT ANTICIPATIONS. 271 
 
 the portico, where he thanked the doctor for the 
 pleasant call he had had, and returned to the 
 city. 
 
 During the afternoon Captain Adams ascer- 
 tained that Genevieve had written to Annie, 
 saying she had received a paper from him — ^the 
 captain — containing a commendatory notice of 
 her pictures at the fair, over which she was both 
 pleased and vexed — pleased at the commendation 
 and vexed at the artist's locality being revealed 
 until after the exhibition during commencement 
 week at Monticello the next spring, and adding 
 that she was satisfied that Captain Adams had not 
 made the revelation. But the chief object of 
 Genevieve's letter had been to say that the second 
 Sunday after the date of her letter would be her 
 eighteenth birthday, and that she proposed to 
 spend it at The Hermitage. 
 
 Looking forward to the next Sunday with 
 pleasant hopes and anticipations, therefore, the 
 captain announced that he hoped to do Miss 
 Genevieve the honor of being present on that day, 
 and then bidding his friends good-bye he returned 
 to the city as he had come. 
 
 Some lost leeway will be recovered in this chap- 
 ter by letting the reader see the letter which 
 
272 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Colonel Cauldwell wrote to his sister by the hands 
 of Captain Adams : 
 
 My Dear Sister Vieve : Your intuition is better than 
 my somewhatprejudiced judgment. I have had a pleasant 
 visit from your Captain Adams, and find him not only a 
 true man, but an old friend — older than I dare tell you 
 now. 
 
 Go back to Monticello, get your diploma there, and then 
 if you decide to graduate in matrimony also, I. shall wish 
 you much joy. 
 
 Your loving brother, M. Cauldwell. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 The Captain and Genevieve's Articles of Confederation 
 — Mysteries Dissolve, and Once More there is Re- 
 joicing AT The Hermitage. 
 
 HEN Genevieve arrived at the Union depot 
 on the next Saturday it was almost night. 
 She looked round for her cousin, but the doctor 
 was not present. Captain Adams was there, how- 
 ever, and when he came up, bowing politely and 
 deferentially, and said he had been commissioned 
 by Dr. Chartervale and Annie to escort her to The 
 Hermitage, she at first drew up and stepped back. 
 Then she smiled, took his proffered hand, and 
 said : 
 
 " I would hke to see your commission, if you 
 please." 
 
 ''That is my commission," replied the captain, 
 pointing to the well-known carriage of the doctor, 
 with the driver on the box. 
 
 Genevieve gave him her hand, and was helped, 
 blushing, into the carriage, and was off for The 
 
 18 (273) 
 
274 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Hermitage before she well knew what had hap- 
 pened. 
 
 What occurred on that evening carriage ride 
 will never be known in all its details to any but 
 the participants in it, but when they drove up 
 under the gaslight at the gate, where the good 
 doctor and his sister were in waiting, both of 
 those dear friends knew from their beaming faces 
 that something which it had once been solemnly 
 declared could ''never be " would be, if the con- 
 current wishes of both Captain Adams and Gene- 
 vieve could accomplish it. 
 
 The captain was as full of happiness as he could 
 hold at one time, and, bidding them all good 
 evening, had himself driven back to the city with- 
 out accepting the doctor's pressing invitation to 
 go in. 
 
 Neither the doctor nor Annie said a word to 
 Genevieve about Captain Adams, and she herself 
 did not mention his name. But her happy face 
 told it all. She took but little supper, roamed 
 about the house, talking all the while with un- 
 wonted vivacity, and retired early to her room 
 to enjoy her happiness alone. There she wrote 
 to Jane Waterbury, in reply to the letter she had 
 received with the puzzling postscript — ''I have 
 
GENEVIEVE TO JANE. '2 m 
 
 something else to tell you, but I can not tell 
 you now." 
 
 And this was Genevieve's letter to Jane : 
 
 You dear, good girl, I am so glad you are happy. But 
 it appears to me, from the very tone of your letter, that 
 there is some other or some additional cause for your 
 great happiness beside that you mention. What is it f 
 I am sure it must be all in Avhat you do not say in that 
 innocent little postscript — that I am never to deliver that 
 dying confession, etc. I really hope it is true that you 
 are ready to say " The king is dead ; long live the king ! " 
 But who is he, Jane, and what is he like ? Write me all 
 about it. 
 
 My sketches of Pilot Knob, which I finished up in 
 India ink, took a premium at the fair. Wasn't that fine ? 
 
 To-morrow is my birthday, and I came down from 
 Monticello to spend it at The Hermitage with doctor and 
 Annie — and him. Good-bye. Write often. 
 
 Your loving friend, Genevieve. 
 
 P. S. — I am to remain at Monticello until I graduate 
 next spring, and we are to be married immediately after- 
 ward. G. 
 
 After church time, next day, Captain Adams 
 came out. His reception was most cordial by the 
 doctor and Annie, who understood the new rela- 
 tion in which he stood toward Genevieve, and the 
 dinner was made a family reunion in honor of 
 her birthday, of which her affianced husband 
 
276 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 was appropriately a component part. There was 
 no formality and no embarrassment. The doctor 
 and his sister had long looked upon this as an 
 event certain to happen. But Captain Adams 
 and Genevieve in one respect appeared to have 
 exchanged characters — she was buoyant and talk- 
 ative, and he was notably silent. This being 
 alluded to by the doctor in a pleasant vein, Gene- 
 vieve declared that she was so relieved to have 
 the matter of their marriage off her mind that 
 she " felt light as a feather, and never before was 
 so full of words ; " while the captain on his part 
 declared that he felt like a soldier after a closely 
 won victory, and only wanted to rest and be 
 silent. 
 
 " There is one thing I would like to know right 
 now," said Genevieve; ''my brother wrote me 
 that he found in you " (to the captain) ''an old 
 friend — older than he dare then tell me. What 
 did he mean ? " 
 
 " I did not see your brother's letter ; he did not 
 inform me as to what he would write or had 
 written. How should I know what he means ? " 
 This was said with a deprecating look toward 
 Dr. Chartervale. But the doctor said, with a 
 quizzical glance at Genevieve : " It means that he 
 
MYSTERIES CLEARED UP. 277 
 
 found in Captain Adams tlie brave Union soldier 
 who rushed through fire and saved your brother's 
 hfe at the risk of his own." 
 
 The captain's face reddened to the ears, and 
 Genevieve looked astonished. 
 
 "And you never told me a word of this ! " she 
 exclaimed, looking as if she was prouder than 
 ever of her affianced husband. 
 
 " I think that the besieger who holds any of the 
 material of war as too valuable to be used, almost 
 deserves defeat." 
 
 ' ' Don' t you wish you had surrendered sooner ? ' ' 
 asked the doctor, almost as happy o-ver the coming 
 marriage as the persons most interested. 
 
 And then the captain had to rehearse the story 
 of meeting Colonel Cauldwell on the train and 
 recognizing him, while himself unknown ; his 
 account of the Yankee dinner and the cucumber 
 pickle cut into eight pieces ; his pleasant visit to 
 the colonel in Mississippi and all that had occurred 
 there. And then he added that, although he had 
 not urged the colonel to disclose to Genevieve the 
 identity of himself and the lieutenant who had 
 saved the colonel's life, yet he had expected it, 
 and was now glad that he had not made the re- 
 quest. 
 
278 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 And then G-enevieve told the true history of llio 
 anonymous letters which had been sent to Colonel 
 Cauldwell, and of the scene in her room when she 
 had confronted l^.Iiss Tyndal, received her confes- 
 sion, and turned her out of doors. 
 
 This was new to all present, for she had not 
 told it before. 
 
 ''And now the mysteries are nearly all cleared 
 up," said Captain Adams. "But there is one 
 more I am most anxious to have cleared up. 
 
 " An evening paper said of my acquittal " 
 
 "There!" exclaimed Genevieve; "never ask 
 that question again until after I have gradu- 
 ated." 
 
 And so the dinner passed pleasantly, and little 
 lapses in the personal history of each were brought 
 up to date. 
 
 During the afternoon, while the young ladies 
 were together in the library, Genevieve found her 
 sketches of Pilot Knob in the portfolio, and won- 
 dered how they came there, and then Annie told 
 her the story of the enthusiastic Mr. Rey, the 
 French artist. And while they were laughing 
 over it, who should drive up in front of The Her- 
 mitage but Mr. Rey himself ! The young ladies, 
 not wishing to meet him, ; topped out the back 
 
THE artist's second VISIT. 279 
 
 way into the garden and seated themselves in the 
 grape arbor. 
 
 Now, Mr. Rey had noticed the photographer's 
 name on the picture of Genevieve Avhich he had 
 seen and examined so devotedly, and had actually 
 gone to the trouble of soliciting a copy to be made 
 for him from the negative at the photographer's. 
 He was told, however, that while the '' negative" 
 was there, and still in good condition, no copies 
 could be made from it, except on the order of the 
 original or her friends. Then the persistent 
 Frenchman had determined to repeat his visit to 
 The Hermitage upon the slender hope of meeting 
 Genevieve there. 
 
 Dr. Chartervale received Mr. Rey kindly^ 
 though somewhat surprised at this second call ; 
 and both the French gentleman and Captain 
 Adams expressed mutual surprise at meeting each 
 other at The Hermitage. The captain had heard 
 of the artist's j)revious visit and its results, and 
 wondered why he should presume in coming 
 again ; so he said, after some general conversation, 
 
 "You were so pleased with the India ink views 
 of Pilot Knob which we were looking at together 
 at the fair, Mr. Eey, that you could not rest until 
 you knew the artist, I understand ? " 
 
280 THE GRAY AXD THE BLUE. 
 
 "Ah, Captain— did I not do right ? " rephed the 
 Frenchman. 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so ; but when a lady conceals 
 her name — which she has a perfect right to do — 
 do you think it is altogether proper for a gentle- 
 man to seek to discover it ? " 
 
 "A work of art belongs to the world, Captain 
 Adams, when exhibited. I meant only to honor 
 the lady. Why should I not ask her relative, 
 Dr. Chartervale, for an introduction? It would 
 make me very much happy. I saw the most 
 beautiful photograph, and, if I am not mistaken 
 much, I saw the young lady passing into the gar- 
 den as I came in. " 
 
 " Then," said the doctor, with a quizzical smile, 
 "I refer you to her affianced husband, who has a 
 right to say Miss Cauldwell is beautiful if any one 
 has^Captain Adams." 
 
 Eey was astounded. He bowed very low, and 
 in great confusion begged the captain's pardon, 
 and the doctor's pardon, and the young lady's 
 pardon. Then he begged almost piteously for an 
 introduction to Genevieve, that he might apologize 
 in person to her face. And Captain Adams con- 
 cluded to gratify him. So he sought out Gene- 
 vieve, told her what had occurred, and, after 
 
A DISAPPOINTED LOVER. 
 
 281 
 
 getting over their laugh, the ladies permitted the 
 Frenchman to come to the arbor and be presented. 
 It was a funny scene. But Eey, who reaUy was 
 a worthy gentleman, got through it better than 
 had been expected. 
 
 During the general conversation which followed, 
 the subject of the war came up, and Mr. Eey said 
 to Captain Adams— but looking at Genevieve— 
 ''What I Vv-as astonished for was that the Gray 
 and the Blue should be affianced." And then he 
 added that he beheved that every lady in the 
 South, who had long resided there, had been loyal 
 to the Confederacy. 
 
 "No," replied Captain Adams, "there were 
 some notable exceptions. Let me give you one. 
 This letter (taking it from his pocket) is from a 
 lady cousin of mine, born in Tennessee, and 
 whose brothers were both in the Confederate 
 army. I recently learned her whereabouts, and 
 wrote to her asking for some items of her per- 
 sonal history during the war. Now I read you 
 part of her reply— written from Kankakee : 
 
 " Ah, no one will ever tell you that I was untrue to the 
 Union flag, though I had to give one up to a company of 
 Roddy's men, and the low wretch who entered my house 
 and demanded the flag ordered his followers to set fire to 
 
282 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 the house. What did I do ? I folded my arras over my 
 heart aYid calmly bade him count the shingles on my roof. 
 For, said I, for every shingle that you burn on my house 
 there will be a house burned to pay for it! Did they 
 apply the torch ? No ! but with my little Union flag 
 high above their heads they left me in full possession of 
 my home. 
 
 " Then, again, did I not ride sixty miles in one day, 
 swim the streams, change my riding suit from green to 
 black, from black to gray, and finally leave all with an 
 old Union man and use a light cover over my saddle for 
 disguise ? And, after all, I was chased eighteen miles, 
 and the race was only ended by my entering the Union 
 lines with valuable news for General Hatch. 
 
 " I was always treated with respect, and knew no fear, 
 and I often passed between the opposing armies at night, 
 my path lighted only by the -flash of Confederate pistols." 
 
 ''Now, I should say," remarked the captain, 
 pausmg in his reading, " that womsin was loyal 
 to the Union." 
 
 "Do you say she was born in the South and 
 grew up there ? " inquired the doctor. 
 
 "Yes; but I should add, perhaps, that her 
 Scotch-Irish forefathers and her own pareiits lived 
 always in the North, until her parents, many 
 years ago, went to Nashville." 
 
 "That h a case of reversion,^^ remarked the 
 doctor, with one of his significant smiles. "The 
 lady's principles, in spite of her education, revert- 
 
ONE LOYAL SOUTHERN WOMAN. 283 
 
 ed to the freedom-loving loyalty of her forefa- 
 thers. Have you more of it, Captain? It is 
 interesting." The captain read further : 
 
 " In one of my trips into North Alabama in the service 
 of the Union cause I had a light-hued colored girl with 
 me. We had to cross Bear Creek where Roddy's men 
 had obstructed it with logs and brush. When we reached 
 the creek (the 3rd day of July, just previous to the fall of 
 Vicksburg), one of Roddy's men came dashing up, cry- 
 ing, ' What's up, woman ? ' * The creek^ I believe,' said 
 I. He laughed heartily, and I gained my point. ' Can't 
 you help me cross this ugly water ? ' inquired I. ' Can't 
 do it to save my soul,' said the man. Tiien I told him a 
 nice little romance, which he accepted as genuine, and 
 over we Avent, and I nearly lost my poor horse in the dark- 
 ness, logs and mud ; and when we were over, the soldier, 
 as a last test, examined my horse-shoes ; they were hand- 
 made — not machine-made, as those in the Union army — 
 and passed all right. The night was so dark that the 
 fellow mistook my colored .girl for a bright little widow, 
 and she was so sharp that she kept uu the delusion several 
 hours. In fact, we were really lost in the swamps about 
 that muddy creek ; and the captain — he was a captain — 
 was so charmed that he never left us until we reached 
 friends about 11 o'clock, and then — oh, horrible!— the truth 
 flashed through his thick pate. But I was safe ; I had 
 accomplished my mission, and within an hour later was 
 off on my return by another route." 
 
 "Now, I think," said the captain, after he had 
 read this, ' ' you must admit that there was one 
 
284 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Union woman in the South who was Southern 
 born ; but, in fact, there were hundreds, though 
 military power kept most of them still." 
 
 " And were there no women of Northern birth 
 and still residing there who sustained the Confed- 
 eracy during the war ? " inquired Genevieve, 
 archly. 
 
 '^Certainly there were, and men, too, by the 
 thousand." 
 
 "And you kept them still by Union leagues 
 and provost marshals and military law, did you 
 not ? " 
 
 " Yes, I confess we did, but, I am sorry to say, 
 not half so effectually- as your side did. We of 
 the North were fools enough to try to be at war 
 without restricting the rights and privileges of 
 peace, —something no other people ever did or 
 could do, — but it cost us thousands of lives. 
 Thank God ! it is aU over ! " 
 
 The whole company shook hands all round on 
 that sentiment, and Mr. Rey soon after took his 
 leave — a wiser man than when he came, but 
 immeasurably disgusted. 
 
 The happy lovers strolled through the pleasant 
 walks and rested in the shady nooks of The Her- 
 mitage, which never before had seemed so de- 
 
HAPPY LOVERS. 285 
 
 lightf ul, and one, at least, counted in advance the 
 procrastinating hours which must pass before the 
 wedding day. 
 
 And so the patient reader will imagine the 
 autumn and the winter and the early sirring as 
 having passed at last, and the day approaching 
 when we will wish them joy as they start upon 
 the journey of hfe together. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A New Union of Hearts and Hands— The Knot is Teed, 
 AND Off They Go On Their Wedding Journey. 
 
 INTER had passed away, and spring was 
 melting into summer. Genevieve had grad- 
 uated with all the honors which Monticello could 
 give, and The Hermitage was gay with flowers 
 to grace the wedding day. Invitations were out to 
 many dear friends, and one more pressing than all 
 had gone to Nonabel for dear Jane Waterbury and 
 her mother. But instead of those most welcome 
 guests came a letter as f oUows : 
 
 Mt Dearest Genevieve : Your loving letter came 
 yesterday. Oh, how untimely it all is ! I suppose I ought 
 to have told you before ; but you know I love surprises, 
 and I waited just too long, for it is now too late to change. 
 Your wedding comes Sunday (we keep the Sabbath at 
 Nonabel better than you do at The Hermitage) and mine 
 comes Wednesday ! 
 
 I am so glad you are going to Niagara ! So are ice. 
 Now, come right straight to Nonabel — it is not ten miles 
 out of your way — and see how lovingly we will receive 
 you. 
 
 (287) 
 
288 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Now, don't say you can not — that it will interfere with 
 your plans — because you can just as well come this way, 
 and we will all go to Niagara together. I say all, for my 
 invitation to you includes all who may come with you, for 
 your friends are mine. 
 
 Telegraph me — care Henry Waterbury — that you are 
 coming. We will meet you at the train. 
 
 Affectionately, Jane Waterbury. 
 
 P. S. He prefers that you learn his name when you 
 meet him. But I know you will like him. J. W. 
 
 "Here is a miss and a mystery," exclaimed 
 Genevieve, as she handed Jane's letter to the 
 captain. 
 
 He read the letter, and, with a pleasant laugh, 
 said : " All right ; Miss Jane is herself a mystery, 
 and it is no wonder she loves the mysterious. Of 
 course, I have no idea what it is ; but it would 
 be a delightful episode to go round by Nonabel, 
 be at Jane's wedding, and all go on to Niagara 
 together. 
 
 And so it was agreed. 
 
 The details of the wedding day at The Hermit- 
 age were nothing notable. Friends of the happy 
 pair were there — Colonel Marshall Cauldwell, and 
 the "grand old man" (Professor Adams), and 
 Major Dabny, and even Mr. Rey (the discomfited 
 French artist), together with lady friends of Gene- 
 
A WEDDING AT THE HERMITAGE. 289 
 
 vieve's — herself the queen of all the train. And 
 at eight o' clock in the evening the happy pair and 
 Annie Chartervale were flying over the prairies 
 by the Ohio & Mississippi Railroad for Cincinnati 
 and Nonabel. 
 
 At eleven o'clock Monday morning the wedding 
 party reached Nonabel, and were received by Jane 
 Waterbury, her mother and her uncle, and in a 
 brief interval were all talking at once at the 
 Waterbury homestead. 
 
 "And now, Jane Waterbury," exclaimed Gene- 
 vieve, after some degree of quiet had come, "I 
 want the explanation of all this mystery." 
 
 " There comes the explanation now, up the 
 front walk," replied Jane. And, before there 
 was time for further explanation. Professor 
 Adams entered without knocking. 
 
 Everybody was silent for a moment, and nearly 
 everybody stared. 
 
 Captain Adams was first to speak ; extending 
 his hand to the professor, he said : 
 
 "Well, well; this must be my rebel cousin 
 Lemuel ! ' ' 
 
 "And, by the same token," replied the pro- 
 fessor, with a cordial hand-shake, "you are my 
 cousin Seth, of the Union army ! ' ' 
 
 19 
 
290 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 Then there were introductions and explanations 
 and congratulations, and everybody was happy. 
 
 It was one of a thousand similar stories. Forty 
 years before, two brothers in Vermont set out to 
 seek their fortunes. One went to Nashville, 
 Tenn., the other to Ilhnois. 
 
 Their father, Abraham Adams, was a man of 
 strongly- marked characteristics, and the family 
 had been endowed with great persistency of type 
 for many generations. His own sons were Hke 
 himself, and the son of Professor Adams, of Illi- 
 nois, and the two sons and daughter of Professor 
 Adams, of Tennessee (he was a professor also), 
 were all of the same strongly- marked type, and 
 the two cousins who now met were almost the 
 double of each other. 
 
 The Tennessee father had been a teacher and 
 professor at Nashville when the war broke out, 
 and though the daughter (whose letter the reader 
 has already seen) was a stalwart Unionist, the 
 sons were both in the Confederate army. 
 
 The Illinois father, as known to the reader, 
 was the "grand old man," Professor Adams, 
 whose son was in the Union army. 
 
 Who doubts that if the two fathers had migrat- 
 ed differently — the Tennessee man to Illinois and 
 
REUNION OF THE ADAMS FAMILY. 291 
 
 the Illinois man to Tennessee — that the sons 
 would have drifted into the army which agreed 
 with the education of each? ''For as the twig 
 is bent the tree's inchned." 
 
 Annie Chartervale was much amused at this 
 homoeopathic treatment of Jane Waterbury's 
 love for Captain Adams — Similia similibus ciiran- 
 tur — though she did not say so. But she did say 
 she was ^^ almost sorry there were not Captain 
 Adamses enough to go round." 
 
 Poor Annie ! She had a heart to love and to be 
 loved. But she had devoted herself to comforting 
 her bereaved brother, and would entertain no 
 other passion while Dr. Chartervale lived. 
 
 But the strangest part of this reunion of the 
 Adams family is yet to be told. Mrs. Standish, 
 the Union sister of Professor Lemuel Adams, was 
 there from Kankakee to attend her brother's wed- 
 ding, and proved to be the identical Yankee 
 woman (as Colonel Cauldwell had called her) who 
 sliced the cucumber into infinitesimal slivers. 
 Captain Adams had suspected this identity before, 
 and the letter to him giving him some of her war 
 experiences was in reply to his own letter of 
 inquiry on that subject. She laughed heartily 
 over the captain's story of the Yankee ear-marks 
 
292 THE GRAY AND THE BLUE. 
 
 by which Colonel Cauldwell supposed he had de- 
 tected her affinity, and showed that her supposed 
 parsimony was only a wise economy of what food 
 there was in the house, the whole family, except 
 her husband, having come home from a distance 
 unexpectedly and found an empty larder. 
 
 And so this was a reunion of Unionists and 
 former disunionists, brought together by consan- 
 guinity, cemented by marriage, and permanently 
 united by community of interests. 
 
 And the next day Professor Lemuel Adams and 
 Jane Waterbury were duly united in holy wed- 
 lock, and the double bridal party started together 
 for Niagara, echoing in their hearts the well- 
 known words : 
 
 No more shall the war crj' sever, 
 
 Or the winding river be red ; 
 They banish our auger forever 
 
 When they laurel the graves of our dead. 
 Under the sod and the dew, 
 
 Waiting the judgment day — 
 ^ Love and tears for the Blue, 
 
 Tears and love for the Gray. 
 
Rand, McNally & Co.'S 
 
 — OF — 
 
 Foreign Countries. 
 
 Afghanistan, Bee Persia -.- - * 
 
 Africa, mounted on rollers, 65x58 inches - 1' 50 
 
 Africa, in three sheets, two being 21x14 inches, and one 14x11 inches, and 
 
 showing plans of cities of Algiers and Tunis "o 
 
 Alaska, 14x11 inches. jSotkept in stock - - 
 
 Asia, mounted on rollers, 65x58 inches 1' ^ 
 
 Asia, 21x14 inches. Not kept in stock - -::-■" ea 
 
 Australia and New Zealand, with plans of Sydney and Port .Jackr^on, 21x14 in. 50 
 
 Austro-Hungarian Mimarchy, with plan of Vienna, 21 x 14 inches 50 
 
 Belgium and The Netherlands, with plan of Brussels, v;lxl4 inches 50 
 
 British America (Dominion of Canada), 21 x 14 inches. Not kept in stock . . 
 
 Central America, 14x11 inches - ^ 
 
 China, 21 x 14 inches ^ 
 
 Cuba, 21 X 14 inches - - - --" 
 
 Denmark, with North portion of the German Empire, comprising ^chlec- ^g, 
 
 Holsteinand Lauenburg, 11x14 inches 50 
 
 England and Wales, 21 x 14 inches, with Index of cities, tow ns. etc /5 
 
 Europe, 21x14 inches - -- - ^ 
 
 Europe, mounted on rollers, 65x58 inches - i' ^ 
 
 France, 21 x 14 inches, with plan of Paris, and Index to cities, towns, etc.-..- i5 
 Germany, in two sheets, 21 x 14 inches each, with Index to cities towns, etc , 1 00 
 
 Greece, and the Ionian Islands, 21x14 inches 50 
 
 India. Indo-China and Further Inelia, with plans of Calcutta and Bom oay, 
 
 I 21xl4inches - ?? 
 
 Ireland, 21 x 14 inches, with Index to cities, towns, etc '5 
 
 Italy, 21x14 inches --- - - . ^ 
 
 Japan, in two sheets, 21 x 14 inches each i "" 
 
 Mexico. 21x14 inches »" 
 
 Netherlands, see Belgium - - - 
 
 New Zealand, see Australia - - 
 
 North America, mounted on rollers, 65 X 58 inches ;■';: 
 
 North America, showing the West India Islands and Central America, 21 xl4 
 
 inches. Not kept in stock -- - - ;.-;,-,--.--- 
 
 Palestine, with plans showing Environs of Jernsalem, journeyiii;;-? o! Christ, 
 
 and sketch showing divisions into tribes. 21 xl4 inches 50 
 
 Persia and Afghanistan, 14x11 inches - 50 
 
 Portugal, see Spain - - 
 
 Russia (European), 21x14 inches - 50 
 
 Scotland, 21x14 inches, with Index to cities, towns, etc 75 
 
 Seuth America, mounted on rollers, 65x58 inches -...-..-. 17 50 
 
 South America, in two sheets, 21 x 14 inches, showing plans o! Bay of Ilio de 
 
 Janeiro, Isthmus of Panama and City ot Buenos Ayres '.5 
 
 Spain and Portugal, with plans of Madrid and Lisl^on, 21 x 14 inches 50 
 
 Sweden and Norway. 21x14 inches 50 
 
 Switzerland, 21 X 14 inches --- 50 
 
 Turkey in Asia (Asia Minor), and Transcaucasia, 21x14 inches 50 
 
 Turkey in Europe, 21 X 14 inches - - - 50 
 
 World, on Mercator's Projection. 21x14 inches -^ 
 
 All of above pocket Maps are neatly bound in cloth cases. ^ 
 
 We make the production of maps a specialty, and keep the largest stocK of m& . 
 plates in the country. Are prepared to furuisn Authors and Publishe! ~ with maps 
 to illustrate Books of Travel and Historical and Educational Works ul a merely 
 nominal charge over the cost of paper and printing. , ^ • * j 
 
 Zilaps which require to be specially prepared, are compiled, engraved and printed 
 with the utmost care and accuracy. . „„ , ,.„ . 
 
 A full line of Maps of the States and Territories mU. S. and of Foreign countries, 
 on a large scale: also, of Modern Geographical, Classical, Political, Physical, 
 Aetronomical,/^^blical, Anatomical and Biological Atlases, Globes and 3Iap Racks, 
 kept in stock. r^ND, McNALLY & CO., Publishers. Chicago. 
 
THE BLACK SORCERESS ; a Tale of the Peasants* War. 
 
 Adapted from the French of Alfred de Brehat. Illustrated. 
 12mo, clotli, 300 pages. Price, $1.00. 
 
 An old German romance, carrying one back to ftudal and chivalric 
 times. Deeplj'' interesting from first to last, and sufficitntly so at limes 
 to make the flesh creep and the heart quiver at the recital of the brutal 
 practices, hideous crimes and besotted superstitions of that benighted 
 epoch. The story is full of astounding mysteries, hellish incantations and 
 diabolical plots. 
 
 A good, old fashioned, romantic story, from the French of Alfred de Brehat by A. D. H. 
 The scene is laid in Germany at the period of the Peasants' War, in the first half of the 
 sixteenth century. It deals with those ever popular and twin themes, love and war. 
 Sarah, the mysterious masked sorceress, dwells in the midst of an almost inaccessible 
 swamp, and exerts a great influence over the superttitious peasants. She proves to be not 
 an old hag, but the beautiful Zilda, for whom the hero. Count Louis, had once a passing 
 fancy, and who iu jealous rage swears vensieance upon him and his betrothed. There is 
 plenty of incident, and in the end the good are made happy and the evil are punished. 
 The i)i)ok is fairly well illustrated and the letter-press and paper are unusually good. — 
 New York Herald. 
 
 It is an old fashioned, historical novel. The scene is laid in Germany, and the tale is 
 one of love, passion, patriotism, war, superstition, and magic. It is wierd and exciting. 
 The characters are nio-tly lovable, and even the Sorceress in her jealoi's fury inspires 
 pity.- Boston Globe. 
 
 There is no lack of skill in the vividly painted characters, or the plot and counter- 
 plot.— CA^cag-o Inter Ocean. 
 
 FUN BETTER THAN PHYSIC. By W. W. Hall, M. D. 12mo, 
 cloth, 334 pages. Price, $1.00. 
 Maxims and precepts which he who runs may read, mark and inwardly 
 digest, with amazing profit. It is the wisdom of the ages in concrete. 
 Worth a whole apothecary shop full of patent nostrums. Well people 
 who follow Dr. Hidl's mandate? will never need a doctor, and sick 
 people will soon "throw physic to the dogs." 
 
 * * * The author believes that good food, pure air and a cheerful disposition are 
 better than physic, and most of his ideas are full of homely practical wisdom and common 
 BeuBQ.— Philadelphia Press. 
 
 * * * The book is one which can be read at any time with profit, and on every 
 page of vi'hich can be found some aphorism.— TA* Day, Baltimore, Md. 
 
 * * * One of Dr. Hall's most popnlar works, and very widely circulated. * * 
 A collection of aphorisms and instructions, each a nugget of wisdoui or of information on 
 important subjects, more or less valuable.— ^'^ Paul Daily Dispatch. 
 
 SUPPRESSED SENSATIONS; or Leaves from the Note- 
 Book of a Chicago Reporter. Illustrated. 12mo, cloth, 
 254 pages. Price $1.00. 
 
 Thirteen sketches of absorbing interest— truths that are indeed stranger 
 than any fiction. Every great metr(>poUs like Chicago has a moral 
 cesspool, in wliich all possible crimes mingle and gurgle together, and 
 beside which Bedlam is a myth, and Babylon is double-discounted every 
 twenty-four hours. This book has already reached an enormous sale, and 
 there is a constant demand for new and increased editions. 
 
 A number of articles more thrilling than those which usually get into the news- 
 papers.— t'Aicao'O Tribune. 
 
 They are all of absorbing interest.— CAtcagro Timss. 
 
 For obvious reasons some changes have been made in names and locations, but the 
 tales are what they purport to be— leaves from the note-book of a re'^oriz^.— Evening 
 Journal. 
 
THE EXECUTIONER'S REVENGE. Translated from the French 
 of Lbonce Fekeet. 13mo, cloth. 313 pages. Price, $1.00. 
 
 A story of the French Revolution, in which the wild passions of 
 that bloody period found vent in private feuds as well as popular 
 upheavals. An intensely tragic romance. 
 
 A very intense French novel by an able writer, most admirably translated. It is 
 oris^inal in conception, a plot deep and well developed, th^ interest sustained to the very 
 end. The dialogue is crisp and bright, the situations dramatic, and the whole story exceed- 
 ingly well toli.— Toledo Blade. 
 
 A fine piece of typographical work, and very creditable to the well-known house from 
 which it is issued. The story is more dignified than the usual run of French stories. — 
 Indianapolis Daily Journal. 
 
 WAS IT A MURDER ? or Who is the Heir ? From the French 
 of Fortune du Boisgobey. 12mo, cloth, 341 pages. Price, $1.00. 
 
 A highly entertaining romance, relating to French provincial life 
 and modern people. The plot is complicated, the characters superbly 
 drawn, and the story so charmingly told that the reader's interest is fully 
 sustained from the opening to the close of the volume. 
 
 OVERLAND GUIDE, from the Missouri River to the Pacific 
 
 Ocean. Illustrated. Chas. 8. Gleed, Editor, 12mo, 345 pages. 
 Price, $1.00 in cloth, 50 cents in paper. 
 
 Something quite different from the ordinary guide-book species. 
 There is nothing ephemeral about it. It was not made to order, nor is it 
 the result of an ill-digested cram at the libraries. It 4ells all about places 
 of note on the great lines of travel through Kansas, Colorado, New 
 Mexico, Arizona, and California. Besides its descriptions of scenery, it is 
 crowded w'tn information derived from personal inquiry and practical 
 observation, and written in a pleasing, graceful style of conscientious 
 accuracy find subdued imagination. It contains also the Mining Laws of 
 the United States, repeal provisions and regulations, and Mining Laws of 
 Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico, An invaluable book of reforence 
 or for solid information sought by the traveler, whether bent on business 
 or pleasure. 
 
 * * * It is indispensable. * • * No one taking the favorite western trip can 
 aflrord to be without it.— Kansas City Journal. 
 
 * * * It is safe to say that no question asked by the multitudinous western tourists 
 and immigrants remains unanswered by the editor of the (9i.'erfa,'i(i G'-vif/e * * * The 
 numerous and fine illustrations with which the Overland Guide is embellished make it a 
 handsome as well as a useful addition to any library.— T'Ac Capital, Topeka, Kans, 
 
 * * * The book forms, in fact, a veritable encyclopedia of information upon the 
 population, agriculture, topography, geogi-aphy, mineralogy, scenery and antinuities of 
 the region which it describes, and upon these points is a ready-reference manual of the 
 handiest sort.— The Interior, Chicago. 
 
 * * * It is a publication of great value to the thousands who for various rnaeons 
 are interested m the region described.— CAic«yo Times. 
 
 *.,* * It gives a vast amount of useful and practical information ne\er befora 
 compiled. * * The illustrations are very tuQ.— Detroit Free Press. 
 
FEDORA ; or the Tragedy in the Rue de la Pais. Translated < 
 from the French of Adolphe Belot. Illustrated. 12mo, cloth, ' 
 303 pages. 
 
 A most original, powprful and exciting French romance. Every 
 character must have had its living model. For high dramatic action, intense 
 and thrilling interest and appalling climax, absolutely unsurpassed in ' 
 modern fiction. ; 
 
 It is a work which places its author at once among the most brilliant and powerful | 
 novelists of his time— Albany Sunday Press. ! 
 
 Since the appearance of " Les Miserables," nothing of French authorship has elicited i 
 8uch unstinted -pvaiiac.— Newark (N. J.) Call. 
 
 "Fedora" will be read because unregenerate human nature is bad. It is a French ■ 
 detective story, dealing, as all such stories do, with a mysterious murder, a sharp detect- : 
 ivo, an abandoned woman, and with intrigues, revelations and violent deaths.— ZTar^ } 
 ^9rd Evening Post. ' 
 
 The story is highly exciting, and contains numerous love scenes peculiar to Paris. '■ 
 There is a strength of diction and brilliancy of rhetoric peculiar to the eminent French • 
 xio\e\\i\.B.—Neivark Daily Journal. 
 
 As a detective story " Fedoni" deserves to rank with Poe's "Murder of Marie Eoget," ■< 
 and Miss Harriet Prescott SpofEord's " In a Cellar.' It fully equals them in intricacy of 
 plot and ingenuity of execution.— C'/iicar/o Tribune. 
 
 The dramatization of " Fedora " has created a furore in Paris, and is regarded as one of : 
 the gems of Madame Bernhardt's repertoire. It is thoroughly French, and those who -^ 
 desire to read of crime and debauchery will find an abundant feast in " Fedora." — Chicago 
 Inter Ocean. '■ 
 
 The plot is remarkable in its dramatic handling, points of suspense, and in the art of ! 
 baffling the reader. An inside view of the fast life in Paris, the courts of justice and the , 
 hidden ways of criminals, treated boldly and in full detail, but without coarseness or -, 
 exaggeration.— Zfosi'Ort Globe. I 
 
 WON AT WEST POINT; a Romance on the Hudson. By j 
 
 "FusH." 12mo, cloth, 300 pages. Price, $1.25 i 
 
 A charming American story, marked by brilliancy of style, keenness * 
 of satire, frolicsome wit and mirth-provoking humor. Irreproachable ■ 
 in tone, suitable for parlor or boudoir, and just the story to banish the " 
 dreary monotony of " riding on the rail." ; 
 
 The valley of the Hudson has been the scene of many a song and story, of legend and 'f; 
 romance. This book make.s a contribution, and a charming one, to the list. * * * The > 
 tale 13 told with tircat spirit, graphic coloring and considerable humor. The interest is ^ 
 maintained to the last. — JL/&a;i2/ ASa/if^fli/ Express. ; 
 
 This latest addition to native fiction literature is a witty, entertaining romance of the ', 
 Hudson, with the great Military Academy as its turning point. * * * " Won at West 
 Point " is a strong novel, and it can but please all classes of readers. It will be particularly ', 
 interesting to those who have had experience at the Point. The novel is elegantly printed 
 andhandsomely bound —Troy (iV. Y.) Evening Standard. 
 
 A hilarious sketch of the social life of cadets at West Point. * * ♦ These chronicles ; 
 of the cadets are jolly and hie-like.— Cincinnati Commercial-Gazette. - i 
 
 A lively story, based on gf.y incidents at lhe National Academy, written by a graduate 
 of the class of '81. * * * A pleasing insight is given to the interior of the School, with "j 
 its workings, customs, jokes and impositions. The book will be read with interest by a , 
 large class of leaders.— Indianapolis Daily Journal. • ^ 
 
 Mailed, on receipt of price, by 
 
 RAND, McNALLY & CO., Publishers, ; 
 148, 150, 152 and 154 Monroe St., Chicaga ' 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
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