GLORY.
"What Alexander sighed for,
What Caesar's soul possessed,
What heroes, saints have died for,
Glory!"
Within three days after his settlement with Black Donald, Colonel Le
Noir left home to join his regiment, ordered to Mexico.
He was accompanied by his son Craven Le Noir as far as Baltimore, from
which port the reinforcements were to sail for New Orleans, en route
for the seat of war.
Here, at the last moment, when the vessel was about to weigh anchor,
Craven Le Noir took leave of his father and set out for the Hidden
House.
And here Colonel Le Noir's regiment was joined by the company of new
recruits in which Herbert Greyson held a commission as lieutenant, and
thus the young man's worst forebodings were realized in having for a
traveling companion and superior officer the man of whom he had been
destined to make a mortal enemy, Colonel Le Noir. However, Herbert soon
marked out his course of conduct, which was to avoid Le Noir as much as
was consistent with his own official duty, and, when compelled to meet
him, to deport himself with the cold ceremony of a subordinate to a
superior officer.
Le Noir, on his part, treated Herbert with an arrogant scorn amounting
to insult, and used every opportunity afforded him by his position to
wound and humiliate the young lieutenant.
After a quick and prosperous voyage they reached New Orleans, where
they expected to be farther reinforced by a company of volunteers who
had come down the Mississippi river from St. Louis. These volunteers
were now being daily drilled at their quarters in the city, and were
only waiting the arrival of the vessel to be enrolled in the regiment.
One morning, a few days after the ship reached harbor, Herbert Greyson
went on shore to the military rendezvous to see the new recruits
exercised. While he stood within the enclosure watching their
evolutions under the orders of an officer, his attention became
concentrated upon the form of a young man of the rank and file who was
marching in a line with many others having their backs turned toward
him. That form and gait seemed familiar--the circumstances in which he
saw them again--painfully familiar. And yet he could not identify the
man. While he gazed, the recruits, at the word of command, suddenly
wheeled and faced about. And Herbert could scarcely repress an
exclamation of astonishment and regret.
That young man in the dress of a private soldier was Clara Day's
betrothed, the widow's only son, Traverse Rocke! While Herbert
continued to gaze in surprise and grief, the young recruit raised his
eyes, recognized his friend, flushed up to his very temples and cast
his eyes down again. The rapid evolutions soon wheeled them around, and
the next order sent them into their quarters.
Herbert's time was also up, and he returned to his duty.
The next day Herbert went to the quarters of the new recruits and
sought out his young friend, whom he found loitering about the grounds.
Again Traverse blushed deeply as the young lieutenant approached. But
Herbert Greyson, letting none of his regret appear, since now it would
be worse than useless in only serving to give pain to the young
private, went up to him cordially and shook his hands, saying:
"Going to serve your country, eh, Traverse? Well, I am heartily glad to
see you, at any rate."
"But heartily sorry to see me here, enlisted as a private in a company
of raw recruits, looking not unlike Falstaff's ragged regiment?"
"Nay; I did not say that, Traverse. Many a private in the ranks has
risen to be a general officer," replied Herbert, encouragingly.
Traverse laughed good humoredly, saying:
"It does not look much like that in my case. This dress," he said,
looking down at his coarse, ill-fitting uniform, cowhide shoes, etc.;
"this dress, this drilling, these close quarters, coarse food and mixed
company are enough to take the military ardor out of any one!"
"Traverse, you talk like a petit maitre, which is not at all your
character. Effeminacy is not your vice."
"Nor any other species of weakness, do you mean? Ah, Herbert, your
aspiring hopeful, confident old friend is considerably taken down in
his ideas of himself, his success and life in general! I went to the
West with high hopes. Six months of struggling against indifference,
neglect and accumulated debts lowered them down! I carried out letters
and made friends, but their friendship began and ended in wishing me
well. While trying to get into profitable practice I got into debt.
Meanwhile I could not hear from my betrothed in all those months. An
occasional letter from her might have prevented this step. But troubles
gathered around me, debts increased and----"
"--Creditors were cruel. It is the old story; my poor boy!"
"No; my only creditors were my landlady and my laundress, two poor
widows who never willingly distressed me, but who occasionally asked
for 'that little amount' so piteously that my heart bled to lack it to
give them. And as victuals and clean shirts were absolute necessaries
of life, every week my debts increased. I could have faced a prosperous
male creditor, and might, perhaps, have been provoked to bully such an
one, had he been inclined to be cruel; but I could not face poor women
who, after all, I believe, are generally the best friends a struggling
young man can have; and so, not to bore a smart young lieutenant with a
poor private's antecedents----"
"Oh, Traverse----"
"--I will even make an end of my story. 'At last there came a weary day
when hope and faith beneath the weight gave way.' And, hearing that a
company of volunteers was being raised to go to Mexico, I enlisted,
sold my citizen's wardrobe and my little medical library, paid my
debts, made my two friends, the poor widows, some acceptable presents,
sent the small remnant of the money to my mother, telling her that I
was going farther south to try my fortune, and--here I am."
"You did not tell her that you had enlisted?"
"No."
"Oh, Traverse, how long ago was it that you left St. Louis?"
"Just two weeks."
"Ah! if you had only had patience for a few days longer!" burst unaware
from Herbert's bosom. In an instant he was sorry for having spoken
thus, for Traverse, with all his soul in his eyes, asked eagerly:
"Why--why, Herbert? What do you mean?"
"Why, you should know that I did not come direct from West Point, but
from the neighborhood of Staunton and Hurricane Hall."
"Did you? Oh, did you? Then you may be able to give me news of Clara
and my dear mother," exclaimed Traverse, eagerly.
"Yes, I am--pleasant news," said Herbert, hesitating in a manner which
no one ever hesitated before in communicating good tidings.
"Thank heaven! oh, thank heaven! What is it, Herbert? How is my dear
mother getting on? Where is my best Clara?"
"They are both living together at Willow Heights, according to the
wishes of the late Doctor Day. A second appeal to the Orphans' Court
made in behalf of Clara by her next friend, Doctor Williams, about a
month ago, proved more successful. And if you had waited a few days
longer before enlisting and leaving St. Louis, you would have received
a letter from Clara to the same effect, and one from Doctor Williams
apprizing you that your mother had received her legacy, and that the
thousand dollars left you by Doctor Day had been paid into the
Agricultural Bank, subject to your orders."
"Oh, heaven! had I but waited three days longer!" exclaimed Traverse,
in such acute distress that Herbert hastened to console him by saying:
"Do not repine, Traverse; these things go by fate. It was your
destiny--let us hope it will prove a glorious one."
"It was my impatience!" exclaimed Traverse. "It was my impatience!
Doctor Day always faithfully warned me against it; always told me that
most of the errors, sins and miseries of this world arose from simple
impatience, which is want of faith. And now I know it! and now I know
it! What had I, who had an honorable profession, to do with becoming a
private soldier?"
"Well, well, it is honorable at least to serve your country," said
Herbert, soothingly.
"If a foreign foe invaded her shores, yes; but what had I to do with
invading another's country?--enlisting for a war of the rights and
wrongs of which I know no more than anybody else does? Growing
impatient because fortune did not at once empty her cornucopia upon my
head! Oh, fool!"
"You blame yourself too severely, Traverse. Your act was natural enough
and justifiable enough, much as it is to be regretted," said Herbert,
cheerfully.
"Come, come, sit on this plank bench beside me--if you are not ashamed
to be seen with a private who is also a donkey--and tell me all about
it. Show me the full measure of the happiness I have so recklessly
squandered away," exclaimed Traverse, desperately.
"I will sit beside you and tell you everything you wish to know, on
condition that you stop berating yourself in a manner that fills me
with indignation," replied Herbert, as they went to a distant part of
the dusty enclosure and took their seats upon a rude bench.
"Oh, Herbert, bear with me; I could dash my wild, impatient head
against a stone wall!"
"That would not be likely to clear or strengthen your brains," said
Herbert, who thereupon commenced and told Traverse the whole history of
the persecution of Clara Day at the Hidden House; the interception of
her letters; the attempt made to force her into a marriage with Craven
Le Noir; her deliverance from her enemies by the address and courage of
Capitola; her flight to Staunton and refuge with Mrs. Rocke; her appeal
to the court, and finally her success and her settlement under the
charge of her matronly friend at Willow Heights.
Traverse had not listened patiently to this account. He heard it with
many bursts of irrepressible indignation and many involuntary starts of
wild passion. Toward the last he sprang up and walked up and down,
chafing like an angry lion in his cage.
"And this man," he exclaimed, as Herbert concluded; "this demon! this
beast! is now our commanding officer--the colonel of our regiment."
"Yes," replied Herbert, "but as such you must not call him names;
military rules are despotic; and this man, who knows your person and
knows you to be the betrothed of Clara Day, whose hand and fortune he
covets for his son, will leave no power with which his command invests
him untried to ruin and destroy you! Traverse, I say these things to
you that being 'forewarned' you maybe 'forearmed.' I trust that you
will remember your mother and your betrothed, and for their dear sakes
practise every sort of self-control, patience and forbearance under the
provocations you may receive from our colonel. And in advising you to
do this I only counsel that which I shall myself practise. I, too, am
under the ban of Le Noir for the part I played in the church in
succoring Capitola, as well as for happening to be 'the nephew of my
uncle,' Major Warfield, who is his mortal enemy."
"I? Will I not be patient, after the lesson I have just learned upon
the evils of the opposite? Be easy on my account, dear old friend, I
will be as patient as Job, meek as Moses and long-suffering as--my own
sweet mother!" said Traverse, earnestly.
The drum was now heard beating to quarters, and Traverse, wringing his
friend's hand, left him.
Herbert returned to his ship full of one scheme, of which he had not
spoken to Traverse lest it should prove unsuccessful. This scheme was
to procure his free discharge before they should set sail for the Rio
Grande. He had many influential friends among the officers of his
regiment, and he was resolved to tell them as much as was delicate,
proper and useful for them to know of the young recruit's private
history, in order to get their cooperation.
Herbert spent every hour of this day and the next, when off duty, in
this service of his friend. He found his brother officers easily
interested, sympathetic and propitious. They united their efforts with
his own to procure the discharge of the young recruit, but in vain; the
power of Colonel Le Noir was opposed to their influence and the
application was peremptorily refused.
Herbert Greyson did not sit down quietly under this disappointment, but
wrote an application embodying all the facts of the case to the
Secretary of War, got it signed by all the officers of the regiment and
despatched it by the first mail.
Simultaneously he took another important step for the interest of his
friend. Without hinting any particular motive, he had begged Traverse
to let him have his photograph taken, and the latter, with a laugh at
the lover-like proposal, had consented. When the likeness was finished
Herbert sent it by express to Major Warfield, accompanied by a letter
describing the excellent character and unfortunate condition of
Traverse, praying the major's interest in his behalf and concluding by
saying:
"You cannot look upon the accompanying photograph of my friend and any
longer disclaim your own express image in your son."
How this affected the action of Old Hurricane will be seen hereafter.
Traverse, knowing nothing of the efforts that had been and were still
being made for his discharge, suffered neither disappointment for
failure of the first nor anxiety for the issue of the last.
He wrote to his mother and Clara, congratulating them on their good
fortune; telling them that he, in common with many young men of St.
Louis, had volunteered for the Mexican War; that he was then in New
Orleans, en route for the Rio Grande, and that they would be pleased to
know that their mutual friend, Herbert Greyson, was an officer in the
same regiment of which he himself was at present a private, but with
strong hopes of soon winning his epaulettes. He endorsed an order for
his mother to draw the thousand dollars left him by Doctor Day, and he
advised her to re-deposit the sum in her own name for her own use in
case of need. Praying God's blessing upon them all, and begging their
prayers for himself, Traverse concluded his letter, which he mailed the
same evening.
And the next morning the company was ordered on board and the whole
expedition set sail for the Rio Grande.
Now, we might just as easily as not accompany our troops to Mexico and
relate the feats of arms there performed with the minuteness and
fidelity of an eye-witness, since we have sat at dinner-tables where
the heroes of that war have been honored guests, and where we have
heard them fight their battles o'er till "thrice the foe was slain and
thrice the field was won."
We might follow the rising star of our young lieutenant, as by his own
merits and others' mishaps he ascended from rank to rank, through all
the grades of military promotion, but need not because the feats of
Lieutenant--Captain--Major and Colonel Greyson, are they not written in
the chronicles of the Mexican War?
We prefer to look after our little domestic heroine, our brave little
Cap, who, when women have their rights, shall be a lieutenant-colonel
herself. Shall she not, gentlemen?
* * * * *
In one fortnight from this time, while Mrs. Rocke and Clara were still
living comfortably at Willow Heights and waiting anxiously to hear from
Traverse, whom they still supposed to be practising his profession at
St. Louis, they received his last letter written on the eve of his
departure for the seat of war. At first the news overwhelmed them with
grief, but then they sought relief in faith, answered his letter
cheerfully and commended him to the infinite mercy of God.