Morgan's Raid

 

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Civil War Harper's Weekly, August 30, 1862

This site gives you access to our online archive of the Harper's Weekly newspaper published during the Civil War. This collection features incredible illustrations created by eye-witnesses to some of the most important events in American History.

(Scroll Down to See Entire Page, or Newspaper Thumbnails below will take you to a specific page of interest)

 

General Corcoran

General Corcoran

General Corcoran

General Corcoran

Rebel Ram "Arkansas"

Destruction of the "Arkansas"

Robert L. McCook

Robert L. McCook

Morgan's Raid

Morgan's Raid

Stonewall Jackson

General Stonewall Jackson

Cedar Mountain

Cedar Mountain

Battle of Cedar Mountain

Battle of Cedar Mountain (cont.)

John Morgan Raid

John Morgan's Raid

Stevenson, Alabama

Stevenson, Alabama

Sigel's Corps

Sigel's Corps

Battle of Cedar Mountain

The Battle of Cedar Mountain

 

Civil War Cartoons

Civil War Cartoons

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

AUGUST 30, 1862.]

HARPER'S WEEKLY.

555

Lecount's visit, therefore, instead of causing him any embarrassment, was the most welcome occurrence he could have wished for. He received her in the parlor with a marked restraint of manner for which she was quite unprepared. His ingratiating smile was gone and an impenetrable solemnity of countenance appeared in its stead.

"I have ventured to intrude on you, Sir," said Mrs. Lecount, "to express the regret with which both my master and I have heard of Miss Bygrave's illness. Is there no improvement?"

"No, ma'am," replied the captain, as briefly as possible. "My niece is no better."

"I have had some experience, Mr, Bygrave, in nursing. If I could be of any use—"

"Thank you, Mrs. Lecount. There is no necessity for our taking advantage of your kindness."

This plain answer was followed by a moment's silence. The housekeeper felt some little perplexity. What had become of Mr. Bygrave's elaborate courtesy, and Mr. Bygrave's many words? Did he want to offend her? If he did, Mrs. Lecount then and there determined that he should not gain his object.

"May I inquire the nature of the illness?" she persisted. "It is not connected, I hope, with our excursion to Dunwich?"

"I regret to say, ma'am," replied the captain, "it began with that neuralgic attack in the carriage."

"So! so!" thought Mrs. Lecount. "He doesn't even try to make me think the illness a real one; he throws off the mask at starting!—Is it a nervous illness, Sir?" she added aloud.

The captain answered by a solemn affirmative inclination of the head.

"Then you have two nervous sufferers in the house, Mr. Bygrave?"

"Yes, ma'am—two. My wife and my niece."

"That is rather a strange coincidence of misfortunes."

"It is, ma'am. Very strange."

In spite of Mrs. Lecount's resolution not to be offended, Captain Wragge's exasperating insensibility to every stroke she aimed at him began to ruffle her. She was conscious of some little difficulty in securing her self-possession before she could say any thing more.

"Is there no immediate hope," she resumed, "of Miss Bygrave being able to leave her room?"

"None whatever, ma'am."

"You are satisfied, I suppose, with the medical attendance?"

"I have no medical attendance," said the captain, composedly. "I watch the case myself."

The gathering venom in Mrs. Lecount swelled up at that reply, and overflowed at her lips.

"Your smattering of science, Sir," she said, with a malicious smile, "includes, I presume, a smattering of medicine as well?"

"It does, ma'am," answered the captain, without the slightest disturbance of face or manner. "I know as much of one as I do of the other."

The tone in which he spoke those words left Mrs. Lecount but one dignified alternative. She rose to terminate the interview. The temptation of the moment proved too much for her; and she could not resist casting the shadow of a threat over Captain Wragge at parting.

"I defer thanking you, Sir, for the manner in which you have received me," she said, "until I can pay my debt of obligation to some purpose. In the mean time I am glad to infer, from the absence of a medical attendant in the house, that Miss Bygrave's illness is much less serious than I had supposed it to be when I came here."

"I never contradict a lady, ma'am," rejoined the incorrigible captain. "If it is your pleasure, when we next meet, to think my niece quite well, I shall bow resignedly to the expression of your opinion." With those words, he followed the housekeeper into the passage, and politely opened the door for her. "I mark the trick, ma'am!" he said to himself, as he closed it again. "The trump-card in your hand is a sight of my niece, and I'll take care you don't play it!"

He returned to the parlor and composedly awaited the next event which was likely to happen—a visit from Mrs. Lecount's master. In less than an hour results justified Captain Wragge's anticipations, and Mr. Noel Vanstone walked in.

"My dear Sir!" cried the captain, cordially seizing his visitor's reluctant hand, "I know what you have come for. Mrs. Lecount has told you of her visit here, and has no doubt declared that my niece's illness is a mere subterfuge. You feel surprised, you feel hurt—you suspect me of trifling with your kind sympathies—in short, you require an explanation. That explanation you shall have. Take a seat, Mr. Vanstone. I am about to throw myself on your sense and judgment as a man of the world. I acknowledge that we are in a false position, Sir; and I tell you plainly at the outset—your house-keeper is the cause of it."

For once in his life Mr. Noel Vanstone opened his eyes. "Lecount!" he exclaimed, in the utmost bewilderment.

"The same, Sir," replied Captain Wragge. "I am afraid I offended Mrs. Lecount, when she came here this morning, by a want of cordiality in my manner. I am a plain man, and I can't assume what I don't feel. Far be it from me to breathe a word against your housekeeper's character. She is, no doubt, a most excellent and trust-worthy woman; but she has one serious failing common to persons at her time of life who occupy her situation—she is jealous of her influence over her master, although you may not have observed it."

"I beg your pardon," interposed Mr. Noel Vanstone; "my observation is remarkably quick. Nothing escapes it."

"In that case, Sir," resumed the captain, "you can not fail to have noticed that Mrs. Lecount has allowed her jealousy to affect her conduct toward my niece?"

Mr. Noel Vanstone thought of the domestic passage at arms between Mrs. Lecount and himself when his guests of the evening had left Sea View, and failed to see his way to any direct reply. He expressed the utmost surprise and distress—he thought Lecount had done her best to be agreeable on the drive to Dunwich—he hoped and trusted there was some unfortunate mistake.

"Do you mean to say, Sir," pursued the captain, severely, "that you have not noticed the circumstance yourself? As a man of honor and a man of observation, you can't tell me that! Your housekeeper's superficial civility has not hidden your housekeeper's real feeling. My niece has seen it, and so have you, and so have I. My niece, Mr. Vanstone, is a sensitive, high-spirited girl; and she has positively declined to cultivate Mrs. Lecount's society for the future. Don't misunderstand me! To my niece, as well as to myself, the attraction of your society, Mr. Vanstone, remains the same. Miss Bygrave simply declines to be an apple of discord (if you will permit the classical allusion?) cast into your household. I think she is right, so far; and I frankly confess that I have exaggerated a nervous indisposition, from which she is really suffering, into a serious illness—purely and entirely to prevent these two ladies, for the present, from meeting every day on the parade, and from carrying unpleasant impressions of each other into your domestic establishment and mine."

"I allow nothing unpleasant in my establishment," remarked Mr. Noel Vanstone. "I'm master—you must have noticed that already, Mr. Bygrave?—I'm master."

"No doubt of it, my dear Sir. But to live morning, noon, and night in the perpetual exercise of your authority is more like the life of a governor of a prison than the life of a master of a household. The wear and tear—consider the wear and tear."

"It strikes you in that light, does it?" said Mr. Noel Vanstone, soothed by Captain Wragge's ready recognition of his authority. "I don't know that you're not right. But I must take some steps directly. I won't be made ridiculous —I'll send Lecount away altogether sooner than be made ridiculous." His color rose; and he folded his little arms fiercely. Captain Wragge's artfully-irritating explanation had awakened that dormant suspicion of his housekeeper's influence over him, which habitually lay hidden in his mind, and which Mrs. Lecount was now not present to charm back to repose as usual. "What must Miss Bygrave think of me!" he exclaimed, with a sudden outburst of vexation. "I'll send Lecount away—damme, I'll send Lecount away on the spot!"

"No, no, no!" said the captain, whose interest it was to avoid driving Mrs. Lecount to any desperate extremities. "Why take strong measures when mild measures will do? Mrs. Lecount is an old servant; Mrs. Lecount is attached and useful. She has this little drawback of jealousy—jealousy of her domestic position with her bachelor master. She sees you paying courteous attention to a handsome young lady; she sees that young lady properly sensible of your politeness—and, poor soul, she loses her temper! What is the obvious remedy? Humor her—make a manly concession to the weaker sex. If Mrs. Lecount is with you the next time we meet on the parade walk the other way. If Mrs. Lecount is not with you, gives us the pleasure of your company by all means. In short, my dear Sir, try the suaviter in mode (as we classical men say) before you commit yourself to the fortiter in re!"

There was one excellent reason why Mr. Noel Vanstone should take Captain Wragge's conciliatory advice. An open rupture with Mrs. Lecount—even if he could have summoned the courage to face it—would imply the recognition of her claims to a provision in acknowledgment of the services she had rendered to his father and to himself. His sordid nature quailed within him at the bare prospect of expressing the emotion of gratitude in a pecuniary form; and after first consulting appearances by a show of hesitation, he consented to adopt the captain's suggestion, and to humor Mrs. Lecount.

"But I must be considered in this matter," proceeded Mr. Noel Vanstone. "My concession to Lecount's weakness must not be misunderstood. Miss Bygrave must not be allowed to suppose I am afraid of my housekeeper."

The captain declared that no such idea ever had entered or ever could enter Miss Bygrave's mind. Mr. Noel Vanstone returned to the subject nevertheless, again and again, with his customary pertinacity. Would it be indiscreet if he asked leave to set himself right personally with Miss Bygrave? Was there any hope that he might have the happiness of seeing her on that day? or, if not, on the next day? or, if not, on the day after? Captain Wragge answered cautiously: he felt the importance of not rousing Noel Vanstone's distrust by too great an alacrity in complying with his wishes.

"An interview to-day, my dear Sir, is out of the question," he said. "She is not well enough; she wants repose. To-morrow I propose taking her out before the heat of the day begins—not merely to avoid embarrassment after what has happened with Mrs. Lecount—but because the morning air and the morning quiet are essential in these nervous cases. We are early people here—we shall start at seven o'clock. If you are early too, and if you would like to join us, if need hardly say that we can feel no objection to your company on our morning walk. The hour,

I am aware, is an unusual one—but later in the day my niece may be resting on the sofa, and may not be able to see visitors."

Having made this proposal, purely for the purpose of enabling Mr. Noel Vanstone to escape to North Shingles at an hour in the morning when his housekeeper would be probably in bed, Captain Wragge left him to take the hint, if he could, as indirectly as it had been given. He proved sharp enough (the case being one in which his own interests were concerned) to close with the proposal on the spot. Politely declaring that he was always an early man when the morning presented any special attraction to him, he accepted the appointment for seven o'clock, and rose soon afterward to take his leave.

"One word at parting," said Captain Wragge. "This conversation is entirely between ourselves. Mrs. Lecount must know nothing of the impression she has produced on my niece. I have only mentioned it to you to account for my apparently churlish conduct, and to satisfy your own mind. In confidence, Mr. Vanstone—strictly in confidence. Good-morning!"

With these parting words the captain bowed his visitor out. Unless some unexpected disaster occurred, he now saw his way safely to the end of the enterprise. He had gained two important steps in advance that morning. He had sown the seeds of variance between the housekeeper and her master, and he had given Mr. Noel Vanstone a common interest with Magdalen and himself in keeping a secret from Mrs. Lecount. "We have caught our man," thought Captain Wragge, cheerfully rubbing his hands — "we have caught our man at last!"

On leaving North Shingles Mr. Noel Vanstone walked straight home, fully restored to his place in his own estimation, and sternly determined to carry matters with a high hand if he found himself in collision with Mrs. Lecount.

The housekeeper received her master at the door with her mildest manner and her gentlest smile. She addressed him with downcast eyes; she opposed to his contemplated assertion of independence a barrier of impenetrable respect.

"May I venture to ask, Sir," she began, "if your visit to North Shingles has led you to form the same conclusion as mine on the subject of Miss Bygrave's illness?"

"Certainly not, Lecount. I consider your conclusion to have been both hasty and prejudiced."

"I am sorry to hear it, Sir. I felt hurt by Mr. Bygrave's rude reception of me—but I was not aware that my judgment was prejudiced by it. Perhaps he received you, Sir, with a warmer welcome?"

"He received me like a gentleman—that is all I think it necessary to say, Lecount—he received me like a gentleman."

This answer satisfied Mrs. Lecount on the one doubtful point that had perplexed her. Whatever Mr. Bygrave's sudden coolness toward herself might mean, his polite reception of her master implied that the risk of detection had not daunted him, and that the conspiracy was still in full progress. The housekeeper's eyes brightened. She had expressly calculated on this result. After a moment's thinking she addressed her master with another question:

"You will probably visit Mr. Bygrave again, Sir ?"

"Of course I shall visit him—if I please."

"And perhaps see Miss Bygrave, if she gets better?"

"Why not? I should be glad to know why not? Is it necessary to ask your leave first, Lecount?"

"By no means, Sir, As you have often said (and as I have often agreed with you), you are master. It may surprise you to hear it, Mr. Noel, but I have a private reason for wishing that you should see Miss Bygrave again."

Mr. Noel started a little, and looked at his housekeeper with some curiosity.

"I have a strange fancy of my own, Sir, about that young lady," proceeded Mrs. Lecount. "If you will excuse my fancy, and indulge it, you will do me a favor for which I shall be very grateful."

"A fancy?" repeated her master, in growing surprise. "What fancy?"

"Only this, Sir," said Mrs. Lecount.

She took from one of the neat little pockets of her apron a morsel of note paper, carefully folded into the smallest possible compass, and respectfully placed it in Noel Vanstone's hand.

"If you are willing to oblige an old and faithful servant, Mr. Noel," she said, in a very quiet and very impressive manlier, "you will kindly put that morsel of paper into your waistcoat-pocket; you will open and read it, for the first time, when you are next in Miss Bygrave's company; and you will say nothing of what has now passed between us to any living creature, from this time to that. 1 promise to explain my strange request, Sir, when you have done what I ask, and when your next interview with Miss Bygrave has come to an end."

She courtesied with her best grace, and quietly left the room.

Mr. Noel Vanstone looked from the folded paper to the door, and from the door back to the folded paper, in unutterable astonishment. A mystery in his own house, under his own nose! What did it mean?

It meant that Mrs. Lecount had not wasted her time that morning. While the captain was casting the net over his visitor at North Shingles, the housekeeper was steadily mining the ground under his feet. The folded paper contained nothing less than a carefully-written extract from the personal description of Magdalen in Miss Garth's letter. With a daring ingenuity which even Captain Wragge might have envied, Mrs. Lecount had found her instrument for exposing the conspiracy, in the unsuspecting person of the victim himself!

WRITTEN IN SAND.

THE thymy western wind swept warm Down all the slopes of the silent shore;

The light was fading fast; and my arm

Held the woman whom I adore.

She has a stately Juno-face

Who has promis'd to stoop to be my wife;

A calm, unfalt'ring voice, and the grace

That comes with knowledge of life.

And as she look'd on the dark'ning sea, And as I look'd in her eyes divine,

"You may write on the sand," she said to me,

"The name that will soon be mine."

The night was warm, and the honey-breath

Of her rich red lips was on my cheek;

But across me there swoon'd the coldness of death, And my tongue refused to speak.

For full on my ear, with a sudden rush,

There fell the sound of a distant shore;

And before me there rose the delicate blush

Of a cheek that shall blush no more.

And all the wealth of my present bliss,

The stately Juno-face at my side,

The half-caressant, half-careless kiss

Of her who shall be my bride

Pass'd into darkness ... and we stood,

My love and I, by the little bay

Shelter'd over with ilex-wood,

In the dying April day.

And as I read her eyes' soft shame, And as I held her trembling hand, Slowly I wrote again a name

That was never writ save in sand!

"All, not for me!" said a childish voice;

"That hope is all too high for me.

I am not worthy to be your choice:

Blot it away, O sea!"

And as the tide rose high, a wave,

Sudden and cold, swept the sweet name over; And then I remember'd a far-off grave,

And that I had forgot to love her.

But still, wherever we walk'd that night,

My bride and I, through the twilight gray, Written in letters distinct and white,

Two words before me lay.

And not for thrice her father's land,

And not for thrice the charms of my bride, Could I have written a name i' the sand,

Save the name of her who died.

THE GUERRILLAS IN THE WEST.

ON page 548 we publish an illustration of the SACKING OF A CITY IN THE WEST BY THE GUERRILAS under John Morgan. This shameless miscreant boasted, when he returned to his rebel friends in East Tennessee, that he had destroyed $2,000,000 worth of property during his raid into Kentucky. He did not enumerate the murders or the rapes committed by his men; but we know from many sources that they constitute a formidable catalogue of crime. Guerrilla warfare involves, as a matter of necessity, the four highest crimes in the calendar —murder, rape, robbery, and arson. The bond which unites members of a guerrilla band together is love of plunder, lust, and violence. War, as carried on by civilized armies, has no attractions for them. It would not pay them. To reward them for the risks they run and the hardships they encounter without pay, they must make free with life, female purity, and property. Wherever Morgan has penetrated shrieks of agony have gone up to Heaven from outraged matrons and maidens, butchered children, and sacked households. Parson Brownlow's book informs us of the degree of humanity possessed by the ruffians who ride with Morgan. Such God-forsaken wretches can not be found any where in the world out of the Feejee Islands and the Southern Slave States. The day will come when the West will exact a fearful retribution for the wrongs she is enduring at the hands of these creatures of slavery. Meanwhile they go on desolating one of the fairest regions of the world, without the poor credit of helping their bad cause one single hair's-breadth.

THE ARMY OF VIRGINIA.

WE publish on page 557 a couple of pictures of the Army of Virginia, one representing a REVIEW OF GENERAL SIEGEL'S ARMY by Major-General Pope, from a drawing by Mr. Anton Kellner; the other, representing the RECEPTION OF CONTRABANDS AT COLONEL CLUSERET'S HEAD-QUARTERS, from a sketch by our special artist, Mr. Davenport.

General Siegel commands the army lately commanded by General Fremont: it is said to be in a high condition of efficiency. Its commander is known to be one of the ablest and most skillful of the foreign-born officers in our service. He won his laurels in Germany in 1848, and here he attracted general attention and won high fame by his conduct at the Battle of Pea Ridge, in Arkansas. When the right time comes General Siegel will be heard from.

Contrabands are flocking in to the army of Virginia in very large numbers. From the reports of the rebels themselves it appears that the able-bodied slaves in the northern counties of Virginia are rapidly disappearing. Well they may. We offer them freedom and work at good wages in exchange for slavery, the whipping-block, and the prospect of' being sold South. By-and-by we shall have enough of them on hand to build all our fortifications and do the work of laborers for the whole army.


 

 

  

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