CHAPTER IV. THE EMPTY SLEEVE

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 387, 24 July 1889, Page 6

CHAPTER IV. THE EMPTY SLEEVE

Tuk immense transportation now forced upon all railroads in the South, of arms, ammunition and men, to the scene of the war in Virginia now occupied the most of my time. The iest of it I gave to her. In fact, almost all other social intercourse was debarred me, for the rumour had been circulated constantly, and continually pained ground in the community, that my sympathies were northern. Thus shunned by the friends and acquaintances of a few months before, i was compelled to livo almost entirely by myself, and the only solace that I had was the bright smiles of my financee, who seemed at this time to be made even more tender than before by the recollection that for her sake I had isolated myself in a community so entirely hostile to me. These reports as to my northern sentiments were so continually and systematically spread, that I knew someone interested in annoying me circulated them. I had a faint suspicion that this was due to the efforts of Mr Amos Pierson, who had become one of the leading army contractors in the South, and was making a large amount of money from his operations with the, Confederate Government. Consequently he had great weight* and influence in its councils. This suspicion was made a certainty by another profier of a staff appointment from General Pemb erton, who had become the local commander of the district. I again refu&cd, and also discovered that this oiler was made at Mr Pierson's suggestion. j The local papers again published my refusal, and made longer and more violent cummencs uuon it than before, but the Confederate Government took no action at this time as to forcing me into their service, probably knowing that my experience as a railroad engineer was of great value tothem in my present location. So the Confederacy drifted along through the varying successes and hopes "and fears oi the first two years of its c\istenc:e. It had become tacitly understood between my sweetheart and myself that as soon as the war was over we vvere to be married. I had at first hoped that this would not mean more than a year's dela3% but as time wore on, the end seemed further and further in the distance. The dogged persistence of the North seemed only to become more dogged and more determined by defeat and disaster, until early in December, 1862, the battle of JTredeiicksburg was fought and brought great misery to me. The news oi~the success of the Confederate arms had been leceived by telegraph. The ladies of Columbia, and those of the men who were not in the army, were excited with the joy of {triumph. Two weeks after this battle, on Christmas Day, I had ridden out to Judge Peyton's to enjoy the only hospitality I could then hnd in the community. For I had no friends, though still waited uponby the faithful Caucus," who stuck to me in spite of, as he expressed it, 'de an'mosity ob de Sruth !' Laura had received me as usual, but her sister, Miss Belle, who had by this time gradually given up all hope of making me a southerner in feeling, remarked with some asperity that she thought it was about time I showed myself to be a man, and instead of making love to young ladies, went out and fought, like other men, for them on the battle-field— 'like Major Harry Walton, for instance,' for by this time death hod made promotion rapid in the Confederate army, and Walton was now a major, while Arthur, their brother, but twenty-two years of age, was a captain in one of the South Carolina regiments. Thetamily had rcceivedno news from him, though they knew that he was in the army engaged at Fredeiicksburg. During the first months of the Avar the anxiety of the judge's family for the safety of the hope of their house bad been something upon which it was fearful to look. The panting eagerness of the two girls as they read the despatches, the suppressed apprehension with which they looked at the long lists of killed and wounded that followed every battle, made my heart bleGd for them. But as engagement after engagement took place, and their brother's name never appeared in the list of maimed or dead, such is the curious effect of habit that even they became accustomed to the suspense and rather thought that their brother enjoyed a charmed life that could not be shortened or endangered by, as they expressed it, 'Yankee bullets,'

Thoy had nob received any communication from the young man since Fredericksburg, and thought it curious that he had not written to assure them of his safety. Though knowing theexigenciesand demands Of military life, it did not create any great anxiety in their minds, as the lists of killed and wounded, as hurriedly telegraphed from the field hospitals, had not contained the young man's name. The judgo had just come out on the vorandah to smoke his after-dinner pipe, as good cigars in those days were a very rare article in the South, while corncobs and tobacco could be always obtained. I had accompanied him, and we were sitting down, the old gentleman talking to mo about the happy Christmas days of a few years before when his son Arthur was at home — a subject on which he seemed to linger ; for tho judge doted more and more upon tho boy as his absenco became longer. Suddenly I heard a subdued cry from Miss Belle, who was looking out of one of tho upper windows over our heads, and turning around I saw a light waggon just drawing up at the steps of tho house. In it upon the back seat wero two Confederate o/licers, one of thorn supporting the other, who seemed in an almost fainting condition. As tho wheels stopped, ho appeared to rouse himself, and said faintly, though in quifce a weak voice : ' Home again !' The next instant, with a scroam, 'It's Arthur's voico !' Miss Bello and tho judge had lun to the waggon, from which Harry Walton, with bandaged head, was supporting Arthur Peyton." They woio around him in an instant with tears, carcsscb, and cries of iov. Then suddenly Mibs Belle shrieked out : ' Arthur, there's your arm ?' The boy gasped, ' Lost at Fredericksburg,' and fainted away upon his father's breast, who groaned 'Croat I! od ! it'ri his light arm!' whilo Laura, looking at him with a pale face, sobbed, ' Maimed for life !' In a moment they had him upstairs ; 1, calling for my hoioo to be saddled, prepared so ride into Columbia for a doctor. ■While this was being done, Harry Walton and 1. loft alone together, looked at each other on the verandah. ' You,' I said.) « arc wouiidod&teo !' 'Yes,' replied he; c £he iragment of a shell, grazed my head, at j?Vederick&burg. My hurt is slight.- ' GocßtnoVs'how Laura's brother's wound will turn out !' We neither of us went in, to interrupt the first agony ot grief that came upon the Peytons. Both Major Walton and myself considered such a scene a sacred one. A moment after, Miss Laura's voice was heard crying, ' Get a doctor, quick !' and Belle earned ' Arthur's dying '.' I sprang upon my horse, and as the judge came hurriedly upon t"ho verandah, I shouted : ' Poift fear ! 1 will have a doctor hero as soon as hor^oilesh can do it,' and galloped away down the avenue. An hour afterward I returned, followed by tho best physician in Columbia that I could obtain, — good doctors being scarce, most of them having volunteered their services in the field. While the physician went up to make his examination, the young ladies came downstaiis, and Miss Belle, with feminine logic and philosophy, strode up to me, and with flashing eyes whispered : •It was your fi iends who have done this to my brother. How can you expect me ever to endure your sight again ?' ' Hush !' said Laura, coming between v?. 'Belle, you are unjust. Lawrence had no more to do with this than you, and has but this moment proved his friendship and sympathy by doing everything in his power to save our brother's life.' 4 Oh! you love him!'. .pried her sister; ' you love him yet ; but then, if my brother lives, you look at his empty sleeve, you will hate this northern man as 1 do.' With that she walked into the house. 'JForgive her, Lawrence,' said Laura, apologetically ; ' she is but a child Remember her excitement, her love for her brother, and her misery at seeing him thus maimed. 1 'I have c\ery consideration,' I replied, ' for your family in your bereavement ; but think, dear Laura, in svbat fearful position lam placed when every misfortune- of this war is laid upon me — when lam sui rounded by enemies, and have nowhere to turn but to tho friendship of you and your family.' * I will remember,' said Laura ; ' I will try to remember— if lean.' | As. these words, ominous to my future happiness, fell tiom the lips of the girl 1 loved, the surgeon came down and made his repoi t. With careful nursing and tender care, thero was every chance (or Uie young man's life. ' But his arm !' almost sobbed the judge ; ' his arm ' My poor maimed boy '' and Miss Belle, atter echoing her father, cried out to me, as I rode away from tho hou&e : ' This is what your northern brothers have done to v?. MrLawience Biyant !' Unrlci these circumstances could my rcflcctionb that evening as I lodo into Columbia ha\o been pleasant ones? or my sleep that night have been tho sleep of the happy and unconcerned ? The closing catasUopho of my courtship was coining— l knew it. To reach tho climax would take but a little time. When I rode out to inquire alter Arthur's health, Miss Bello leceivcd me, sometimes with iionmal remarks, that showed me that I could expect nothing from her but open animosity. Laura attempted to palliate this and explain it, but even as she did to her manner wastoiced and constrained. She was not the open, light-hearted ingenuous girl who first became my affianced bride. There was evidently wmc secret influence upon her mind which was -weaning her hear); irom me. In the coiirso of the next two monlhs her brother had leco'verecl sufficiently to lounge upon fcho vor'andah, the light spiing air every day giving him greater and greater strength, but the empty sleeve in his uniform was a constant reminder to hib sisters ot what he had lost ; and the helplessness of the young man with his right arm £jono stimulated his family's hatred to the North, which fell upon mo as its neaiest representative. Tho old judge's covdiality of manner gradually lefo him, his answers to my remarks became monosyllables, and Laura herself, a& she looked at that empty sleeve, poomed to> grow colder and colder to- mo, and to show greater cordiality and warmth to Major Walton, who every day rode ovei to inquire how the patient progressed, and to linger all day with the young ladies after he had discovered that the patient was better, apparently charming them by his anecdotes of battle, and of dangers undertaken and endured in the dofencc ot their beloved cause In such scenes, I, of course, had no part, and Laura seemed to take rather a pleasure in innuendoes that taunted mo for my lack of gallantry in not being a soldier, such as : ' This Columbia of ours cannot interest you much, Major Walton— now that all the men have gone to the war '—or— ' Oh ! the stay-at-homes ! Wero I a man like you. Mr Bryant, I'd fight for some side !' Such remarks sho would amphasise with a haughty laugh, dwelling a little on the ' Mr Bryant,' for she sometimes omitted to call me Lawrence at those times. Had I been a thorough judge of a woman's heart, or not blinded by misery, aftor such speeches I should have known that the girl's love was still entirely mine, tor then she always

seemed to apologise for them by her manner and_ sometimes fco become even more affectionate than she had ever been fco me. Thus we drifted along, until one day the sword of Damocles, which had hung over our engagement by so fragile a hair, descended and severed, apparently, the love that had bound us together. It wae a slight incident that brought about the crisis. I had been talking with Arthur, who was now convalescent, but of course entirely disabled for activo military service. The young man, who had all through this aflair been very cordial and friendly to me, was saying _ that he would like, as soon as he was a little stronger, to obtain employment on the railroad of which 1 -vas one of the officer,-,, lemarking : ' You, Bryant, know llml now I've got to use my brains for a living, not my hands.' As he said this, the young fallow ga/.ed at his empty &leevo, and a little spasm of agony ran over his laco ; thon, trying to conjure up a grin, ho cried : • Pshaw ! If I had only had left tho Jedinr/ of it when I lost it ! —but though it's buried up ab Eredcricksburg, it ached all night. Thau cold Virginia ground must have given it the rheumatism.' Peeling for the boy's helplessness, I remarked : ' You'll soon grow resigned to youi lo=&, Arthur. ' ' L'erhapss ho would,' 'paid Miss Belle, who had been listening to us. clad in a dark homespun drees, for the blockade by this time «as beginning to tell upon the ladies' costumes down t.outh. 'it he had another man to take his place' Thon she whispered to me : ' Major Walton goes to the front again to-day. This time 1 did nob intorrupb his tctc-a-tebo with Laura — and tho remit — sec )' Sho pointed through a vista of shrubbery, and as, 1 looked I gave a start. Walton was evidently taking leave of my sweetheart, and this time he 'seemed in great spirits as he mounted his hor^e. What man who loves is not jealous sometimes ? Walton left in despair the last time — now he faeenied radiant. Had Laura given him hope ? {To be. Continued.)