The Essential Winston Churchill Collection. Winston Churchill
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Название: The Essential Winston Churchill Collection
Автор: Winston Churchill
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Контркультура
isbn: 9781456613488
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"Away down South in de fields of cotton, Cinnamon seed and sandy bottom, Look away, look away, Look away, look away. Den I wish I was in Dixie's Land, Oh, oh! oh, oh! In Dixie's Land I'll take my stand, And live and die in Dixie's Land. Away, away, away. Away down South in Dixie."
The song ceased amid peals of girlish laughter. Stephen was rooted to the spot.
"Jinny! Jinny Carvel, how dare you!" came through the shutters. "We shall have a whole regiment of Hessians in here."
Old Uncle Ben, the Catherwoods' coachman, came out of the stable yard. The whites of his eyes were rolling, half in amusement, half in terror. Seeing Stephen standing there, he exclaimed:
"Mistah Brice, if de Dutch take Camp Jackson, is we niggers gwinter be free?"
Stephen did not answer, for the piano had started again,
"If ever I consent to be married, And who could refuse a good mate? The man whom I give my hand to, Must believe in the Rights of the State."
More laughter. Then the blinds were flung aside, and a young lady in a dress of white trimmed with crimson stood in the window, smiling. Suddenly she perceived Stephen in the road. Her smile faded. For an instant she stared at him, and then turned to the girls crowding behind her. What she said, he did not wait to hear. He was striding down the hill.
CHAPTER XIX. THE TENTH OF MAY
Would the sons of the first families surrender, "Never!" cried a young lady who sat behind the blinds in Mrs. Catherwood's parlor. It seemed to her when she stopped to listen for the first guns of the coming battle that the tumult in her heart would drown their roar.
"But, Jinny," ventured that Miss Puss Russell who never feared to speak her mind, "it would be folly for them to fight. The Dutch and Yankees outnumber them ten to one, and they haven't any powder and bullets."
"And Camp Jackson is down in a hollow," said Maude Catherwood, dejectedly. And yet hopefully, too, for at the thought of bloodshed she was near to fainting.
"Oh," exclaimed Virginia, passionately, "I believe you want them to surrender. I should rather see Clarence dead than giving his sword to a Yankee."
At that the other two were silent again, and sat on through an endless afternoon of uncertainty and hope and dread in the darkened room. Now and anon Mr. Catherwood's heavy step was heard as he paced the hall. From time to time they glanced at Virginia, as if to fathom her thought. She and Puss Russell had come that day to dine with Maude. Mr. Catherwood's Ben, reeking of the stable, had brought the rumor of the marching on the camp into the dining-room, and close upon the heels of this the rumble of the drums and the passing of Sigel's regiment. It was Virginia who had the presence of mind to slam the blinds in the faces of the troops, and the crowd had cheered her. It was Virginia who flew to the piano to play Dixie ere they could get by, to the awe and admiration of the girls and the delight of Mr. Catherwood who applauded her spirit despite the trouble which weighed upon him. Once more the crowd had cheered,--and hesitated. But the Dutch regiment slouched on, impassive, and the people followed.
Virginia remained at the piano, her mood exalted patriotism, uplifted in spirit by that grand song. At first she had played it with all her might. Then she sang it. She laughed in very scorn of the booby soldiers she had seen. A million of these, with all the firearms in the world, could not prevail against the flower of the South. Then she had begun whimsically to sing a verse of a song she had heard the week before, and suddenly her exaltation was fled, and her fingers left the keys. Gaining the window, trembling, half-expectant, she flung open a blind. The troops, the people, were gone, and there alone in the road stood--Stephen Brice. The others close behind her saw him, too, and Puss cried out in her surprise. The impression, when the room was dark once more, was of sternness and sadness,--and of strength. Effaced was the picture of the plodding recruits with their coarse and ill-fitting uniforms of blue.
Virginia shut the blinds. Not a word escaped her, nor could they tell why--they did not dare to question her then. An hour passed, perhaps two, before the shrill voice of a boy was heard in the street below.
"Camp Jackson has surrendered!"
They heard the patter of his bare feet on the pavement, and the cry repeated.
"Camp Jackson has surrendered!"
And so the war began for Virginia. Bitter before, now was she on fire. Close her lips as tightly as she might, the tears forced themselves to her eyes. The ignominy of it!
How hard it is for us of this age to understand that feeling.
"I do not believe it!" she cried. "I cannot believe it!"
The girls gathered around her, pale and frightened and anxious. Suddenly courage returned to her, the courage which made Spartans of Southern women. She ran to the front door. Mr. Catherwood was on the sidewalk, talking to a breathless man. That man was Mr. Barbo, Colonel Carvel's book-keeper.
"Yes," he was saying, "they--they surrendered. There was nothing else for them to do. They were surrounded and overpowered."
Mr. Catherwood uttered an oath. But it did not shock Virginia.
"And not a shot fired?" he said.
"And not a shot fired?" Virginia repeated, mechanically. Both men turned. Mr. Barbo took off his hat.
"No, ma'am."
"Oh, how could they!" exclaimed Virginia.
Her words seemed to arouse Mr. Catherwood from a kind of stupor. He turned, and took her hand.
"Virginia, we shall make them smart for this yet, My God!" he cried, "what have I done that my son should be a traitor, in arms against his own brother fighting for his people? To think that a Catherwood should be with the Yankees! You, Ben," he shouted, suddenly perceiving an object for his anger. "What do you mean by coming out of the yard? By G-d, I'll have you whipped. I'll show you niggers whether you're to be free or not."
And Mr. Catherwood was a good man, who treated his servants well. Suddenly he dropped Virginia's hand and ran westward down the hill. Well that she could not see beyond the second rise.
Let us go there--to the camp. Let us stand on the little mound at the northeast of it, on the Olive Street Road, whence Captain Lyon's artillery commands it. What a change from yesterday! Davis Avenue is no longer a fashionable promenade, flashing with bright dresses. Those quiet men in blue, who are standing beside the arms of the state troops, stacked and surrendered, are United States regulars. They have been in Kansas, and are used to scenes of this sort.
The five Hessian regiments have surrounded the camp. Each commander has obeyed the master mind of his chief, who has calculated the time of marching with precision. Here, at the western gate, Colonel Blair's regiment is in open СКАЧАТЬ