LOVE IN CAMP
Miss Annie Bain was still with us, and had become my friend, and my
companion, when time permitted. She made a restful change in the
monotony of daily incessant hard work when, except for letter writing
or in some extreme case when a dying soldier called us out, we
remained during the evening in our tents.
Impossible as it seemed for a woman without pass or authority, Miss
Bain succeeded, with little difficulty, in reaching City Point.
A little tearful entreaty from a beautiful young woman has often
moved the heart of the strictest disciplinarian. Upon reporting at
City Point to that ogre of the department to all stragglers and
irregulars, General Patrick, he gave her protection and permission to
remain until her brother should receive his furlough.
Meanwhile Captain Robert Eden, of the 37th Wisconsin Regiment, whose
wound was but slight, had returned to his post, and was at the front.
There Miss Bain was not allowed to follow. But word soon reached the
Captain, and in a day or two after Miss Bain’s arrival he dashed into
camp on his fine bay horse, well dusted after his long ride. He was a
six-foot, broad-shouldered, ruddy young Englishman, and was brimming
over with anticipation and happiness.
[Illustration: MRS. R. C. EDEN]
The first meeting, however, betrayed the secret that “Bob” was the
lover for whom this courageous girl had braved the perils of the
ocean, and the dangers and uncertainties of a country at war. Miss
Bain explained that “Bob” was her adopted brother, and she feared
that he might die of his wounds if left to strangers, and so she had
come hoping to take care of him.
[Illustration: COL. R. C. EDEN]
Captain Eden was promised a furlough and promotion but it was long
deferred. It was decided that when the promised furlough came they
would go at once to Washington for the marriage ceremony and for
a honeymoon trip. Bob managed to get an occasional pass from his
regiment, then in camp before Petersburg always ready for orders to
advance for action.
It was well that Annie had succeeded in gaining from the department
of the Provost Marshal General, the privilege of remaining till
Captain “Bob” should receive his furlough. And well it was that the
words took that form, for three months passed and yet no furlough
came, while “Bob” stormed and laughed, impatient, though happy
in anticipation, while he continued to make flying visits to our
quarters.
At last envy, loving a lofty mark, and not knowing the goodness
and purity that were her guide, sought some explanation of Annie’s
quiet reserve which ungratified curiosity magnified into many vague
surmises, and which were now taking the form of unpleasant rumor.
Annie at last became conscious of the false position in which she
appeared, and which was chiefly due to the presence in camp of a
handsome young lady having no ostensible object for her stay.
Thanksgiving and Christmas passed with good dinners sent to the
soldiers by the liberality of citizens, who also sent agents to
assist in the distribution. Some accessories were supplied by the
Hospital Department, and the ladies in camp, with much taste and
ingenuity in arrangement and decoration of the stockade dining
barracks or “mess hall,” produced a really fine display, and gave to
the ever unsatisfied convalescent soldier “a good square meal.”
Meanwhile, though with womanly tact Annie endeavored to hide her
anxiety, my sympathy soon discovered “the worm in the bud” that
saddened the eye and paled the cheek of the fair girl. Something
must be done, and that quickly. A bold thought came to me; but
extreme cases require heroic treatment, and after all we can but fail.
With assumed indifference, breaking in upon one of her reveries, I
said, “Annie, you are unhappy.”
“Why no, Miss Smith, I am very happy,” she answered trying to believe
herself sincere.
“Well, never mind, I know all about it, Annie, and am very sorry too,
but mean to help you if you will allow me.”
With an expectant yet alarmed glance she exclaimed: “Why, what can
you do?”
“No matter; but will you answer truly one question? In the first
place you know it is necessary for me to start for Albany at once to
see Governor Fenton, and Mrs. Painter is called home on business; and
you cannot be left here alone. You are distressed and unhappy, and
with reason; Bob cannot go to Washington, as you well know, and now
please answer without reserve. If Bob should wish to marry you here,
in camp, will you consent?”
“Why, we could not be married here,” she exclaimed.
“That can be managed if you will give your answer.”
“Well, yes, I would,” she replied reluctantly.
But womanly delicacy instantly repented and she added, “O, I would
not for the world have Bob think I am in the least bit of a hurry.”
“Don’t think of that! He shall never know of this conversation unless
you are willing; and you will have nothing more to do about it.”
In the course of the next hour a letter was written to Bob, in which
her real position was plainly set forth, adding the very unpleasant
suggestion, that should he fall in the expected battle, the poor girl
would be doubly miserable. And further, if, after calm deliberation,
he wished to place her rightly in camp, and marry her here in the
Field Hospital, it was only necessary to telegraph at once and come
to City Point at five P. M. to-morrow, and it should be done with
every arrangement made.
A rare chance had brought to our tent that day an officer of Captain
Eden’s regiment, by whom the letter was at once dispatched. Little
suspecting its importance, he delivered it at midnight to his
comrade, as he dreamed by his camp fire of the long deferred day when
Annie should be all his own. Astonishment and indignation, at the
thought of an injustice to the brave girl who had dared all in her
devotion to him, at once cleared away the mists of romance that had
surrounded his bright visions of the future.
By the first trembling of the morning wires came the telegram, “All
right, on the way to City Point on horseback.” This was shown to
Annie, who trembled with anxiety and mortification lest he should
think her deficient in maidenly reserve; but we laughed away her
fears and said nothing. Still I would not take any decisive action
in this emergency until he came and assured me of his earnest
wish. So the morning wore slowly on until nearly noon, when Hannah
“the great-eyed” stumbled into the tent,--her usual manner of
entering,--saying, “Lor, Miss Smith, Mass Bob dun come ridin’ way
down de road, ready to broke him neck.”
I slipped quietly out of the tent as he dashed up on his fine horse,
well flecked with foam, and pulled rein for the first time in fifteen
miles of Virginia road! Covered with dust, but without a thought of
fatigue, he sprang to the ground and, with a hearty grasp of my hand,
exclaimed, “Colonel, you’re a trump! Never would have thought it
possible!” and with a significant gesture he whispered, “Do you mean
it?”
“Certainly!” was the suppressed reply, for tents are all ears.
Laughingly he continued, “Couldn’t get a pass so came without it. Ha,
ha! must be back to-night!”
“Well, there’s no time to lose; go and persuade Annie, and be ready
at five P. M. sharp. It is now nearly noon, and all is yet to be
done.”
With a bound, Bob was by Annie’s side, while she, half alarmed, was
yet too happy in his presence to speak the thoughts that caused her
heart to leap with a strange emotion.
It must have been like some wild dream when I said “Annie, Bob
has something to say to you alone; so for once he may enter our
sanctum.” And unpinning the flap of the little tent attached to a
larger one, they disappeared within.
Gathering my scattered thoughts, I ejaculated, “Let’s see, what
first? Ah, here comes Mary Blackmar. I want you to put on your other
dress and be here at five P. M.”
Her fine hazel eyes dilating in wonder, she exclaimed, “What ails
you, Colonel?”
“Nothing, only we are going to have a wedding in camp, and you’re to
be second bridesmaid for Annie.”
“Impossible!”
“Can’t be helped. Manage your work somehow. You must come just the
same, and Mr. Peek is to stand with you. Good-bye,--we’re off for
the clergyman. Remember, five P. M., and, one moment,--not a word in
camp.”
Meanwhile Sister Painter had sent for her orderly and ambulance, into
which I quickly sprang while she called out with cheery significance,
“Good luck! Good luck!” and the impatient pair of grey horses
dashed off through camp to the Cavalry Corps Hospital nearly a mile
distant, to secure the services of Chaplain Mines, the only Episcopal
clergyman in that department.
An unusually cold air chilled us as we drove up to the tasteful
little office of the Chaplain. His orderly saluted, and awaited my
order. “Please ask the Chaplain to step here as quickly as possible.”
To my consternation he replied “Chaplain Mines went North this
morning!”
Dumbfounded at this news, and greatly distressed, I hardly knew what
to do next. The driver was shivering, and evidently in doubt too, as
he asked “Where shall I drive now?”
“To--to--O, I don’t know--that is, drive back.”
What could be done? Away we sped and my perplexity increased, for
I well knew that none but the Church of England service could give
sanction to this pair in matrimony. “O, I have it, drive to the
Christian Commission.”
In fifteen minutes we found Mr. Houghton, head of this commission.
“Do you know,” I cried breathlessly, “you are to be best man
at a wedding this afternoon, and I’m to be first bridesmaid,
and--well--there is no Episcopalian clergyman in this camp? You must
help us out of this dilemma. Will you not ask one of your ministers
to perform the service by the Episcopal form?”
With a twinkle in his keen gray eye he remarked “I think I shall
order a straight jacket, and--”
“Never mind! Order what you like, but not a word in camp, or we
shall have more assistance than we desire. Though this must not be
done in a corner, yet one from each post will suffice. If it gets
out we might have hundreds. We ladies will represent the States, Mr.
Peek the Sanitary Commission, and you, Mr. Houghton, the Christian
Commission, and--at five P. M. you’ll know the rest, for there is
yet much to do. I’m off now for General Patrick.”
Again we dashed off over the rough frozen roads, this time in the
direction of General Grant’s Headquarters, near the James side of
the Point. The day was intensely cold, and only a guard was visible,
marking his frozen beat. As we approached he called an orderly, who
immediately appeared and received the message “Ask General Patrick if
he can be seen.”
“General Patrick went North yesterday!”
“How long will he remain?”
“Till to-morrow night.”
Match-making was becoming a doubtful experiment. “Has everybody gone
North?” I dubiously inquired.
The orderly suggested “The General’s adjutant, Captain Beckwith is
here.”
“Oh, indeed, I don’t know _him_ except by sight; a young man and
good-looking. If only he wasn’t. Wonder what General Grant would
say if he were asked!” But a consideration of the cares of that
overworked public servant saved _him_.
At last, in desperation, I said, “Ask the Adjutant if he will please
step here for a moment,” inwardly adding “If we do not perish with
cold in this attempt, we might hereafter make our headquarters at the
North Pole!”
Captain Beckwith came out of the office and politely waited my
request. A poor attempt at indifference was not helped by my
hesitating words--“Captain, I--er--I wish to speak to you privately.
Is your office occupied?”
He replied gravely and politely, “There are officers now in my tent.”
“Well then, will you please step into the ambulance, as it is
necessary to have your advice and assistance.”
Apparently anticipating a torpedo, when only a flag of truce was
offered,--rather dimly to be sure,--he cautiously took his seat
without a word.
How shall I quickly explain? Why doesn’t he say something--not a
word--one or the other must drop preliminary caution, or the words
will freeze on our lips. So I blundered out “Are you engaged at five
P. M.?”
He replied that he thought he was. Whereupon I told him the whole
story, and he soon changed his plans.
“As General Patrick is away,” I said, “will you come and witness the
ceremony?”
“But I’m afraid it----”
“Nonsense, Miss Bain has remained by permission of General Patrick.
We wish you, as his representative, to give your countenance and
endorsement to the affair.”
Now he was interested, and finally agreed to be on hand. Away we
hurried back to the Christian Commission, and found we had only two
hours left.
After returning from the Cavalry Corps Hospital I found Bob within
the tent standing alone with a gloomy and discontented expression
upon his face. I took the alarm and said quickly: “There is
something wrong, Bob. If you are intending to marry Annie because
you think you must, don’t do it, she’s too good a girl to be forced
upon any man in that manner. Now is your time to retreat. What is the
matter?”
With a merry laugh, Bob said soothingly: “There, there, Colonel, you
are wasting ammunition. Why, don’t you know that nothing in the world
could make me so happy as to marry the dear girl, and if we succeed I
can never repay this great kindness, so don’t waste time or thought
on that point!”
But the cloud once more passed over his face. What did it mean? Half
repenting the new role, I was hurrying away, when a neglected message
came to my mind, and I called out, “O, Bob! Major Baker, before going
North, requested me to say he had left forty dollars for you with the
sutler at the Point!”
The cloud vanished, as he sprang up and exclaimed: “Did he? Bless his
old heart! I must run down and get it.”
“Why, how delighted you seem; one would think it was a fortune.”
“O no,--but you see--er well, it is--all right now.”
The cloud was explained! How mortal we are! The poor fellow was “dead
broke” and of course had no fee for the clergyman. This seemed a
small matter, but for several months that ever-welcome individual,
the Pay-master, had not reported to the consequently bankrupt
“front,” so there was nothing to borrow, for as long as a dollar
remained in camp, it was the common property of the “Boys.”
On the road shortly after, we met Bob beaming as a sunflower, radiant
in a brand new pair of yellow buckskin gauntlets, high cavalry boots,
freshly blacked, hair and beard barbered, dust swept off his faded
uniform, and with a clean paper collar. The owner of this elegant
wedding attire called out merrily--“How are you progressing, Colonel?”
“Finely,” was the brief though hardly conscientious reply, which
was scarcely verified on reaching the Christian Commission again,
when Mr. Houghton said: “I can find no one willing to perform that
ceremony!”
Descending from the ambulance and passing into the quarters occupied
by Rev. Mr. and Mrs. A., I asked the former to assist in giving away
the bride, which he at once consented to do. But the most important
character was still wanting.
“Ah, Rev. G., will you not as a home friend kindly perform this
service?”
“With pleasure by the Methodist form, but I have conscientious
scruples about using another service!”
“Well, please send some one else.”
This one had scruples too. This seemed an absurd prejudice to stand
in the way of so much happiness. The fourth or fifth minister was
“perfectly willing” but hadn’t the least idea of an Episcopal
service. Verily this was the pursuit of happiness under difficulties.
But I rejoiced then that all obstacles seemed to be at last overcome.
Grateful to this liberal Methodist minister I thanked him and said:
“If you are willing, please wait a moment.”
Running quickly to Mr. Houghton, he soon found a prayer book and a
key,--not of the book but of the chapel door. How the time flew!
Four hours and thirty minutes gone; only twenty-five minutes left!
The minister and I entered the chapel, where I explained to him the
form of the Episcopal service, and to save time enacted the part
of the groom, the bride and the other necessary characters. Much
delighted with this service, he was proceeding finely when we came
to the giving of the ring. “Oh, how about the ring,” he asked. Here
was another dilemma. Shades of the Goddess of Matrimony! A ring! and
in camp, where jewelry was conspicuous only by its absence! My only
ring, a garnet cluster, would not serve for a wedding ring, yet a
ring must be had. Leaving the reverend absorbed in his part I ran
to the tent again and rushed in upon Bob and Annie, happy and quite
oblivious of time, forgetting almost my presence, and that it was for
_their_ marriage, that I had stirred up every department in the great
hospital and the U. S. Headquarters.
In a tone of dismay I exclaimed: “What shall we do for a ring? It is
impossible to find one in this last moment.”
But to my intense amazement and great relief Miss Bain in a most
matter of fact manner replied, “Why, I have a plain ring in my
valise.” This she placed in my hand, and I gave it to Bob, who
deposited it safely for the auspicious moment. So I sped happily
away, calling back, “Be ready in five minutes!”
And now we must marshal our forces and prepare for the silent wedding
march, for which no Mendelssohn or Lohengrin could give sweet music,
and which must be under cover to avoid attracting attention. At this
moment an orderly hastily entered saying, “Mr. A. is very sorry, but
a telegram has ordered him directly to the Point, and Mr. Peek is
nowhere to be found!”
“Perhaps he has taken a telegraphic shock, too!”
“All the rest here?”
“Yes; but now, Captain Beckwith, you must be promoted to second
groomsman.”
Ignoring his objections in this latest emergency, I turned to Mrs.
Painter, asking: “Will you give away the bride, thus standing for her
mother?”
Equal to any emergency she replied: “We Friends do not understand thy
services, but what will thee have me to do?”
“There is no time now to study up, but when the Pastor asks ‘Who
giveth this woman to be married to this man?’ just step forward and
say, ‘I do’.”
There was no danger of failure there. “Now wait until I run again to
the chapel, to see if our minister is sufficiently coached, and then
let the conquering victims come!”
The good man was ready, and quite delighted with the beautiful
service. When we disagreed about the positions to be taken, he
good-naturedly allowed himself to be backed against the rough little
pulpit, and with an expression of amused curiosity prepared for the
now waiting couple.
Perhaps a dozen camp friends had quietly entered and seated
themselves to witness the ceremony, and all was ready. Hastily
returning once more to our tent, and finding every one ready, and
fearing that our little secret might be discovered, we ordered
“Double quick.” Bob and I went first together, the two groomsmen
and bridesmaid entered from different directions. Sister Painter
came next with the bride, and even in her well worn, patched brown
‘every day’, with travelling hat and pretty collar, she seemed quite
beautiful. Hannah covered the retreat.
As we arranged our little wedding procession, the solemnity of the
occasion became impressive, while the shades of evening struggled
through the bare windows of the large chapel, and the gleam of half a
dozen candles cast a glow over the Pastor’s form as he stood, book in
hand, awaiting the first sight of the twain, now slowly approaching.
All fell, quietly and orderly, into position. And there, far from
home and dear friends, in the roughly boarded, unplaned, unpainted
structure where “the Boys in Blue” so often gathered to hear the
words of love and truth, was solemnly performed the beautiful
ceremony, without a pause or interruption, which joined two loving
hearts as one in holy bonds, never to be severed on earth. “Whom God
hath joined together, let no man put asunder.”
More than one silent tear of thankfulness fell as the last prayer
died away on the lips of the good man, who had so beautifully
solemnized this institution.
Night had now fallen as all joyfully congratulated the noble looking,
happy pair. They walked arm in arm, man and wife, back to our tents,
where we quietly followed, no rumor having reached the alert ears
of the poor weary fellows, anxious for a break in the monotony of
hospital life.
The guests at the reception in our large tent consisted only of our
own little party, and the refreshments were composed of a couple of
bottles of Sister Painter’s home-made wine, and a “wolverine” cake,
hastily made by Mary Blackmar’s willing hands.
Rev. ---- wrote the certificate, and we had a merry time in
witnessing it; while our tent was illuminated with two extra candles
in bottles, and the wind made sweet music above our laughter on the
swaying canvas roof. The great black log blazed brightly, now and
then snapping out a sharp shout of joy, and all went merrily as the
traditional marriage bell.
Bob, of course, was obliged to return at once to his regiment;
leaving his bride for a day or two while he cleaned up his
regimental quarters, and obtained permission to go to housekeeping
where bullets rained and shells stormed, and thither he took his
happy bride.
About two weeks later came the furlough, and the Major’s commission.
On my return from my interview with Governor Fenton in Albany, I met
the wedded pair in Washington, going North, where their festivities
were continued among their friends with suitable formalities.