The Gilead Guards: a story of wartimes in a New England Town

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Chapter I Gilead's First War Sermon Here

was nothing in the rural town of Gilead on that lovely 'June Sunday in 18G2 to suggest warfare of any kind. Looking around, you might have seen wide cornfields, hill pastures covered with verdure to their very tops, sleepy cows lying beside shaded brooks, lazily chewing their cuds, aud long, dusty roads leading past quiet farmhouses. Ear ther away, outlined clearly against the quiet sky, were long spurs of the Green Mountain range, encircling the town and completely shutting it in from the outside world. You would have said, "Beautiful for situation ! " and so it was ; even to the small, unambitious village which crowned an elevation near the centre of the town, where were two churches, a courthouse, bank, and a few other unpretentious public buildings in the midst of pleasant homes. The churches, one white, the other light brown, stood on either side of an enclosed plot of ground called the "common."

You might have wondered why it was enclosed, for it was overgrown with weeds and thistles, and crossed from gate to gate by two narrow paths, showing that it was open to the public, and not a "private institution." It was also surrounded by a row of trees, tiny maples most of them, which were nearly all dead, and stood as mute witnesses against a "village improvement society " which had built the fence, set out the trees, and then died of exhaustion. But the fence was not simply a relic, since to its post-rails, Sunday after Sunday, were fastened the horses which brought the farmers' families to church. There they stood on this particular day, with bowed heads and half-closed eyes ; their tails lazily switching the flies away, voluntarily enforcing the natural " Sunday law," whose only enemy is man.

Two or three village loafers sat on the shop, steps just round a corner, talking, their soiled clothing and unshaven faces bearing witness against them. But even they gave vent to their stale jokes and lifeless gossip in lower tones than usual, irresistibly subdued by the pervading quiet and peace of the day. Pos sibly, too, they felt the influence of tones which occasionally resounded from the nearest pulpit, seeming to bring them, in their forlorn condition, uncomfortably near to their neglected "gospel privileges." They knew well whose voice it was, and as it grew more distinct with increasing earnestness, Jack Bragg remarked uneasily, " The elder appears to be havin' a remarkable free time." And this was also the opinion of the people who filled the plain, old-fashioned white church, as they always did when it GILEAD'S FIRST WAR SERMON 9 was noised abroad that " Elder Putnam " was to be present on one of his official quarterly visits.

The young pastor of the. church looked upon this popularity with a jealous eye, and decided to watch the man more care fully, to ascertain, if possible, by what secret power he drew from their homes men and women who had never been affected in the least by his own eloquence. But with the reading of the text on this occasion his anxieties began, increasing with the progress of the sermon until he was wholly unfit to prepare a calm synopsis of that discourse or any other. The text was, " 0 thou sword of the Lord, how long will it be ere thou be quiet , " The preacher read it twice with great distinctness, standing before the people, tall, dark, and spare, like some self-renouncing prophet with a message from the Lord. Then followed Gilead's first war sermon. It may seem strange that this was true, but the town was far from the centres of excitement and action ; so, although more than one year of war had passed into history, this isolated little place had sent but few to the front.

A few there had been, of the best and the worst young men, who had hurried away at the first alarm; but the great majority were still reading their own town paper, the Standard, and the New York Tribune, and impatiently waiting for the " rulers " to settle the "little unpleasantness." But their loyalty aud personal interest had been pent up quite as long as was possible, and this sermon was like a match thrown among prepared combustibles. The pastor, Rev. G. Harmon Phelps, looked into the faces of the people in amaze ment as they listened to the fiery sentences which followed each other in rapid succession, often enforced by resounding thumps upon the pulpit. The elder was never a quiet man in preaching, but now he paced back and forth, his iron-grey hair tossed from his forehead, his face alive with intense feeling.

Lo- " Ah ! " said he, " what shall we say of this terrible sin of slavery ? Men have dared to buy and sell and torture their brother men ; and the question as to whether it was right or wrong has been thrown back and forth in our legislative halls until it has been moulded into a red-hot cannon-ball, and God says, ' Use it for the downtrodden and the oppressed.' God has been patient. He kept silent until the heavens were rent with the cries of His enslaved children, and then He stretched forth His hands, and this nation is being shaken by the fierce ness of His wrath." Squire Fletcher, who occupied a prominent pew and was listening intently, brought his gold-headed cane down upon the floor with emphasis, and groaned audibly. " You have thought slavery was a horrible sin, no doubt ; yet how can you measure a sin that does not seemingly touch you or your interests , But God, according to His word, is revealing to this nation, and to us as individuals, the magnitude of this sin by demanding a corresponding sacrifice.

And oh, what a price to pay ! When your brave boys stand in the day of battle to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves, then you will begin to understand God's opinion of this great question." Two or three women, mothers of " brave boys," covered their faces ; but with outstretched hand the minister continued : " Sin never fully showed its hideousness until the great Sacrifice was offered once for all ; and slavery, the special sin of this nation, never looked as black as it will when the altars of our country are drenched with patriotic blood." Turning from the description of sin to the possibility of its triumph, the preacher aroused the loyalty of his hearers by referring to the struggles of their forefathers, and the true significance of national liberty ; appealing to them, as they valued their inherited blessings, to defend them, if need be, with their lives.

It is impossible to convey an idea of the intensity, the fierce energy, with which the sermon was delivered. It was this GLLEAD'S FIRST WAR SERMON 11 even more than the words which electrified the people. Not that they evinced any special excitement, for that was not customary in New England country towns ; but one who understood them as well even as their pastor might safely predict results. In a certain pew sat Mr. Rollins, who had kept all the newspapers out of his home, lest his two grown-up sons should "catch the war fever." His face wore a look of stern dis approval, which was faithfully reflected in that of his wife, who, being on the sunny side of the house, and close to a large, unshaded window, had spread her green gingham parasol, from whose protecting shade she sent her wrathful glance toward the pulpit.

The boys sat between their parents ; and their mother noted with a heart-pang that Thomas was preternatur ally quiet, while Andrew was constantly running his fingers through his well-oiled hair until it stood up in every direction. Just in front sat Mr. Douglas, a man of Scotch descent, whose opinions were always worth considering. He felt sure from the first that his son David's fate was decided. But he listened, and weighed arguments, and admitted evidence, and made up his mind to submit bravely to the inevitable, even while a voice from the depths of his heart was crying, " My son, my son, my only son, can I give you up , " There, too, was poor little Mrs. Follinsbee, dissolved in tears because her big, broad-shouldered husband, who had been growing restless of late, was assuming a martial air, and endorsing, silently but unmistakably, every word of the sermon.

In the gallery, which rose behind and above the high " box pulpit," was the choir, numbering a dozen or more young people. At the head of the soprano sat Ruby Fletcher, the squire's only child. Her cheeks were crimson with excitement, and her eyes glowed as she followed the discourse and watched the people in the pews below. She wished she were a man, that she might dash away at once and win glory upon a battlefield. As she was only a woman, she began to wonder if Abram Steele felt as she did, and wished she could catch one glimpse of his face. But Abram was chorister, and sat near the melodeon at the rear, quietly turning the leaves of his singing-book. Don Stanley, who sat next to Ruby, at the head of the bass singers, gave an answering nod to her in quiring glance ; and Joe Armstrong, just beyond, seemed pro foundly moved, but kept his eyes fixed upon the minister.

His wife was behind Ruby, with baby Nellie ; and, having written a note to Joe on a leaf torn from her hymn-book, she begged Ruby to pass it to him, whispering as she did so, " He needn't think he is going. I won't let him. I wish that minister was in Texas." "Don't talk that way, Vie," replied Ruby. "Somebody has to go, and if you love your country, just keep still and help Joe get ready. I would, if I were in your place." "You don't know anything about it. I don't care two farthings for my country, and Joe's worth more than all the negroes. Oh dear ! oh dear ! " And Vie ended her frenzied whisper with a hysterical sob which all the singers heard, especially poor Joe, whose eyes filled with tears as he thought of what it would be to leave wife and baby. The sermon closed at length, and, like the echo of a bugle-call, "t America " was read.

The choir and con gregation tried to sing it, but the volume of sound which the good old tune usually carried was lacking, and at the last verse it became almost a bass and tenor duet. One voice, however, sustained the air to the end, and that was Ruby Fletcher's. Her father, who as usual was keeping time with his cane, noticed an expression upon her face which reminded him of a picture of Joan d'Arc, hanging in his library at home ; and he said to himself, " If Ruby were a boy, she would enlist to-morrow." But Ruby was not a boy, and so it was an easy matter for Squire Fletcher to hasten forward a little later, shake hands with the minister, and say, "That was GILEAD'S FIRST WAR SERMON 13 grand, elder ! Just what was needed to rouse our boys. If you had called for volunteers, you'd have got them, I'm sun'."

" Perhaps Mr. Fletcher would not feel quite so pleased if we had a son to send," said his wife. " No, that he wouldn't," said Mr. Douglas, extending his hand. " He would close his lips and pray for courage, as I do, when I think of my David." Mr. Putnam wiped the perspiration from his forehead and turned with a look of deep sympathy at this remark. "And do you think he will surely go?" he inquired; then added, half-regretfully, " I have been surprised at the way the subject has opened before me. I was led out to speak of things I had not thought to mention ; and yet I meant it all, brethren, every word of it." " Of course ! of course ! " responded Mr. Douglas heartily. " I've been convinced for some time that we would have to do our part ; but it comes hard on us who have boys." "I have two in tho field already," said the minister, in a husky tone ; " so I know just how it is."

Mrs. Follinsbee, a meek, hard-working woman, naturally very retiring, now pressed forward, her eyes red with weeping. " My husband will go to war now, I know he will," said she, " and you are responsible ! " " Oh, I hope not, I trust not ! Your husband would not take such a step without serious thought and deep conviction, I am sure," said the minister, looking really distressed. But Mrs. Follinsbee only shook her head and hurried away. Mr. Rollins, who had formerly expressed high admiration for Mr. Putnam, did not stop to shake hands. Instead, he expressed his opinion, outside of the door, in a subdued Sunday growl : " Did ye ever hear such stuff? I come to meetin' to hear the gospel, and if a man can't preach the gospel, he better keep away from Gilead." "Oh, well," answered Mr. Steele good-naturedly, "this 'ere war may be a gospel war.

I can't tell. He preached just what he believes, and I wouldn't wonder if he got it about right." " A minister has no business to preach politics, any way," snapped Mrs. Rollins, who was enveloping herself in a " linen duster " in view of her three-mile ride. " We rode away down here this hot day to listen to an edifyin' sermon, and I got the boys to come, and here they've got their minds all joggled up about this war business, and next we know they'll be 'listin', Thomas and Andrew both, fer they always go to gether." And a sound like a sob followed the last word, which she seemed to transfix with the pin she used to fasten the duster at the throat. Mr. Steele, who was very lame, sat down in the little vestry to wait until Abram came to the door with the family waggon. He was generally very prompt, but to-day he lingered in the gallery, pretending that the melodeon, which had a chronic weakness in the bellows, needed special attention.

After the other members of the choir had left, Ruby Fletcher came back for a forgotten glove, as Abram had begged her to. "Well?" said she inquiringly, her face still glowing with the Joan d'Arc expression. "I must go; I suppose you know that?" said he, lightly and yet decidedly. "Yes," she answered, fully understanding; "and I only wish I could go too." " May I come up to see you a little while this evening ? " was the next question, and Abram closed and locked the melodeon nervously before he looked at her. " Yes, if you want to," responded Ruby ; and then she ran down the stairs to join her father, her heart throbbing strangely, while hot tears rushed to her eyes. Mr. Fletcher was still talking with the two ministers ; while her mother, the Steele girls, and Miss Hancock were gathered about Mrs. Judge Plumley, whose son was captain of a cavalry company.

She belonged to the " other church," but, being engaged in GLLEAD'S FLRST WAR SERMON 15 packing a box for the "boys," had come across the "common" to give the ladies an opportunity to send packages if they desired to do so. " We haven't many friends there yet," said Miss Hancock ; " but there's no telling when we shall have. After the sermon we had to-day, it'll be a wonder if men enough stay at home to do the haying." " Be thankful you've nobody to send, Miss Hancock," said Mrs. Plumley tenderly. " But haven't I ? " responded that lady. " Look at my Sunday-school class ! A dozen young men that I've had since they wore dresses, — some of them, any way, — and haven't I told them war-stories by the hour ? I thought, as I watched their faces to-day, that I had done my part toward preparing them.

I wanted them to be brave, but not for this." But the noise of wheels at the door called the Steele girls away, and very soon the old meeting-house was silent ; and the dust settled upon the great Bible and hymn-book, the spiders went on weaving lace curtains over the bare windows, the pews assumed again that look of peculiar emptiness which characterises church pews during the week, and the old sexton, who lived just across the street, laid down his paper and hobbled over to lock the door ; but the words which had been spoken were not shut in. They were already like seed scattered broadcast, destined to bring forth much fruit. Mr. Steele's horse, tired and hungry after his long fast, could hardly wait until the family were seated in the carriage to start for home. He went prancing and curveting through the village, only settling into a respectable trot when the long hill was reached.

It seemed natural then that the sermon should be discussed, but there was an ominous silence instead. Abram used his whip assiduously upon the birch saplings, which almost touched the wheels ; for the hill road ran through delightful woods, whose shade was doubly welcome on a melting summer day. His father was absorbed in his own meditations, and Esther and Mary did not care to break the spell. So the mile and more between church and home was passed without a word on the exciting topic of the day. But the news had been in advance of them, for the Hickey GILEAD'S FIRST WAR SERMON 17 boys, who lived beyond Mr. Steele's, had discovered Benjie standing under some plum trees, book in hand, while he " watched the bees," whose expected swarming had kept him at home. " Hello ! " they called, approaching with long strides, their Sunday coats hanging over their arms, their hats pushed back from perspiring foreheads.

" Whew ! " ejaculated John Henry, using his hat for a fan. " You look nice 'nd comfort'ble here in the shade, Benjie. I tell you it's too hot to dress up in meetin' clothes. Good things has to be lined, I s'pose, but lining's a nuisance such weather's this." " You'd orter heard Elder Put's sermoD, though," interposed George, drawing a long "ribbon grass" over his thumb; " everybody's wide awake, I tell you. It was a regular fightin' sermon ; 'nd all the boys 're ready to enlist. You'd orter seen their faces, and the women's faces too. Oh my ! you'd thought it was a funeral, to see 'em cry. You'll find out Abram '11 go ; I could see how he looked in behind his singin'-book. Ruby Fletcher, too — she grew red in the face, 'nd her eyes snapped, 'nd I'll bet she wished she was a boy, so she could go.

She won't keep Abram from goin' ; you c'n bet your life on that ! " " Some of the old men got to talkin'," interrupted John Henry, " and I heard 'em say that Abram would be an officer if he went. He's a grand good feller, Abram is." It made Benjie feel an inch taller to hear his brother praised, but he only said, " I don't know about that ; I guess there's a good many that want to be officers." " Yes," said John Henry, gathering himself up to go on ; " it ain't likely any Gilead boy will want to be less 'n captain ; though if I enlist I'll be satisfied with first lieutenant's place." And his big, sober mouth broadened, and his eyes twinkled in visible appreciation of the joke. As the two brothers walked on, Benjamin hurried into the house, where he found the family just ready to sit down to a late dinner, which also answered for an early supper.

" Have you really made up your mind to go to war, Abram ? " asked the boy excitedly, as he slid into his place. " The Hickey boys think so, anyhow." " Benjamin ! " cried his mother, with quick apprehension, " what are you talking about ? The Hickey boys ought to know better than telling such stuff on Sunday." Abram looked at his father and the girls with a queer smile. "They were only following the minister's example, I guess. But the fact is, we might as well face this thing first as last." And Abram threw back his broad shoulders. " I do expect, if I live, to enlist." "Oh, Abram!" And with grief-stricken face his mother looked at him, while her eyes filled with tears. " Wish 't I was old enough to go too," said Benjie in a low tone, giving Abram an admiring nod. Mr. Steele buttered the piece of bread on his plate, and cut it into sections.

" It don't surprise me much to hear you say so, Abram," he said at length, his voice husky, in spite of strong self-control. "I know that many must die for the sins of the nation, but I have hoped there'd be enough to settle the question without drawing on Gilead. Seems to me we haven't many to spare." " There's none to spare," interrupted his wife. " The farms will grow up to weeds while the boys are down South getting shot for nothing." " You don't mean for nothing, mother," said Esther, leaning forward with flushed cheeks and tearful eyes. " The minister said the right would win sooner or later." " I see you are all on Abram's side, quite willing to have him go and leave your poor lame father alone," answered her mother reproachfully. " Oh, now, mother, you know better than that," said Abram.

GILEAD'S FIRST WAR SERMON 19 " Father won't be left alone. Austin must come home, of course, because he can't go, any way. He's only twenty ; but he can help do the farm work as well as I, and I'm sure it is his turn after a year in Boston. Why, mother, I have been thinking about this for some time, and I wonder now that I could have waited so long. You would despise me if I stayed at home like a coward." " There's enough that can go and never be missed," was his mother's only answer, as she looked into his manly face, now full of animation. " Did the bees swarm, Benjamin ? " asked Mr. Steele. " No, sir ; I thought they was going to, but I guess there was some trouble with the queen bee. Anyhow, they finally settled down." " Maybe she didn't want them to leave the old hive," said Abram, with a glance at his mother.

But she did not answer it, perhaps did not hear his remark. The family were not in the habit of talking freely about matters^ that affected them most deeply ; and, true to their training, they finished the meal almost in silence, though their hearts ached with dread and apprehension. That evening Abram went to see Ruby Fletcher. In quiet, staid Gilead a Sunday night visit was full of meaning, and supposed to be a sure indication of " something serious." Ruby understood this, and with the exaltation of the day still unsubdued, she put roses in her hair and upon her breast, and sat behind the vines in the broad verandah watching for him. They had always known each other, and it was tacitly agreed by interested friends that they would some time " make a match " ; but there had never been a formal engagement.

That night, however, when Abram left Squire Fletcher's, he was quite ready for congratulations. Ruby had greeted him as a hero, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to promise herself as a reward when he should return from battlefields, bearing honours, titles, and, possibly, wounds. When he suggested that, Ruby only cried out in her impulsive fashion, " As though that would make any difference ! I'd rather have you come back with only one arm than stay at home and keep both." It is needless to say that Ruby was more patriotic than the majority of young ladies. Her father had " talked politics " with her mother and herself until they thoroughly understood the condition of national affairs ; and, as she inherited his ardent, impulsive temperament, she echoed his sentiments, even to the limit of self-abnegation.

But, after bidding Abram a cheerful good-night, this loyal young lady went to her room and cried like any other mortal ; proving by heart ache and tears that her sacrifice was no less real because it was offered with a self-forgetful enthusiasm. As for Abram, we must forgive him if he held his head higher than usual as he strode toward home. All desirable good seemed within his grasp. Adventure, patriotic daring and danger, faithful service, advancement, glory, and — Ruby ! He had not known until that day the possibilities within him self ; and as he stood at his father's door, he turned and looked across the fields and upon the meadows through which the river ran, all so still under the starlight, and wondered that he had stayed in Gilead so long. How small the place looked in the light of the future !

How uneventful and barren his life had been ! But now it was to expand and grow richer and nobler as he gave himself to his country as a patriot soldier. And, looking up into the serene heights above, he thanked God for life and the prospect that opened before him.

Chapter II Ploughshares Into Swords Pram's

exalted state of mind was in no sense disturbed by his visions of the night, and he appeared at the breakfast table with a radiant face, which his mother scanned with troubled eyes. "You don't look as though you ex pected to leave home and friends . in a little while, i Abram," said she, passing him the fragrant johnnycake. "Oh, now, mother, don't go to thinking that I shall get killed in the first battle. I expect to go and come back again to take care of you in your old age. Of course you feel bad, but what could you expect of a boy that has read Uncle Tom's Cabin through as many times_as I have ? Why, I tell you I have almost learned that by heart. And then think how father's taken the Tribune and Harper's Weekly all this year past, until we're full of fight, and ready to give advice to every general in the army."

And Abram laughed cheerily, as though the whole subject was one to make merry over. " The Tribune comes out pretty strong — pretty strong," said his father, with emphasis on the first syllable, but otherwise sure of his ground. "None too much so, though ; for people and papers can't stand on the fence these days." "I guess tee don't stand on the fence," said Benjie, his mouth hardly cleared in his haste to speak. " It would be funny, after hearing so much about slavery, if none of father's boys should have a hand in getting rid of it." " Austin would be the one to go if he was of age," said Mary ; " he's all for excitement and change ; but I don't see how we can get along without Abram. Austin never '11 carry us to meetings and singing-school as you do, Abram. But there won't be a singing-school or anything else, will there ?