Who Goes There?. B. K. Benson
thinks clearly and rightly about this war; England cares nothing about states' rights or the reverse; the heart of England, though, beats true on the slavery question; England will never recognize the South."
"You believe the war will result in the destruction of slavery?" I asked,
"Of racial slavery, yes; of all slavery, nominally. If I did not believe that, I should feel no interest in this war."
"But President Lincoln has publicly announced that he has no intention of interfering with slavery."
"He will be forced to interfere. This war ought to have been avoided; but now that it exists, it will not end until the peculiar institution of the South is destroyed. But for the existence of slavery in the South, England would recognize the South. England has no political love for the United States, and would not lament greatly the dissolution of the Union. The North will be compelled to extinguish slavery in order to prevent England from recognizing the South. The Union cannot now be preserved except on condition of freeing the slaves; therefore, Jones, I am willing to compromise with you; I am for saving the Union in order to destroy slavery, and you may be for the destruction of slavery in order to save the Union!
"The Union is destroyed if secession succeeds; secession will succeed unless slavery is abolished; it cannot be abolished by constitutional means, therefore it will be abolished by usurpation; you see how one crime always leads to another."
"But," said I, "you assume that the South is fighting for slavery only, whereas her leaders proclaim loudly that she is fighting for self-government."
"She knows that it would be suicidal to confess that she is fighting for slavery, and she does not confess it even to herself. But when we say 'the South,' let us be sure that we know what we mean. There are two Souths. One is the slaveholding aristocracy and their slaves; the other is the common people. There never was a greater absurdity taught than that which Northern writers and newspapers have spread to the effect that in the South there is no middle class. The middle class is the South. This is the South that is right and wholesome and strong. The North may defeat the aristocracy of the South, and doubtless will defeat it; but never can she defeat the true South, because the principle for which the true South fights is the truth--at least the germ of truth if not the fulness of it.
"The South is right in her grand desire and end; she is wrong in her present and momentary experiment to attain that end. So also the North is right in her desire, and wrong in her efforts.
"The true South will not be conquered; the aristocracy only will go down. Nominally, that is to say in the eyes of unthinking men, the North will conquer the South; but your existing armies will not do it. The Northern idea of social freedom, unconscious and undeveloped, must prevail instead of the Southern idea of individual freedom; but how prevail? By means of bayonets? No; that war in which ideas prevail is not fought with force. Artillery accomplishes naught. I can fancy a battlefield where two great armies are drawn up, and the soldiers on this side and on that side are uniformed alike and their flags are alike, but they kill each other till none remains, and nothing is accomplished except destruction; yet the principle for which each fought remains, though all are dead."
For a time I was speechless.
At length I asked, "But why do you imagine their uniforms and flags alike?"
He replied, "Because flag and uniform are the symbols of their cause, and the real cause, or end, of both, is identical."
"Doctor," I began; but my fear was great and I said no more.
IX
KILLING TIME
"Why, then, let's on our way in silent sort."--SHAKESPEARE.
Lydia was kept busy in the hospital; her evenings, however, were spent with her father.
Before the Army of the Potomac began to arrive, I had recovered all my old vigour, and had become restless through inaction. Nobody could say when the Eleventh would come. The troops, as they landed, found roomy locations for their camps, for the rebels were far off at Yorktown, and with only flying parties of cavalry patrolling the country up to our pickets. I had no duty to do; but for the Doctor's company time would have been heavy on my hands.
About the last of March the army had reached Newport News, but no Eleventh. What to do with myself? The Doctor would not move his camp until the eve of battle, and he expressed the opinion that there would be no general engagement until we advanced much nearer to Richmond.
On the 2d of April, at supper, I told Dr. Khayme that I was willing to serve in the ranks of any company until the Eleventh should come.
"General McClellan has come, and your regiment will come in a few days," he replied; "and I doubt if anybody would want you; the troops now here are more than are needed, except for future work. Besides, you might do better. You have good eyes, and a good memory as long as it lasts; you might make a secret examination of the Confederate lines."
"A what? Oh, you mean by myself?"
"Yes."
"Do you think it practicable?" I asked.
"Should I have suggested it if I do not?"
"Pardon me, Doctor; but you were so sudden."
"Well, think of it," said he.
"Doctor, if you'll put me in the way to do it, I'll try it!" I exclaimed, for, somehow, such work had always fascinated me. I did not wish to become a spy, or to act as one for a day even, but I liked the thought of creeping through woods and swamps and learning the positions and movements of the enemy. In Charleston, in my school days, and afterward, I had read Gilmore Simms's scouting stories with, eagerness, and had worshipped his Witherspoon.
"When will you wish to begin?" asked the Doctor.
"Just as soon as possible; this idleness is wearing; to-day, if possible."
"I cannot let you go before to-morrow," said he; "I must try to send you off properly."
When Lydia came in that night, and was told of our purposes by the Doctor, I fancied that she became more serious instantly. But she said little, and I could only infer that she might be creating in her brain false dangers for a friend.
By the next afternoon, which, was the 3d of April, everything was ready for me. The Doctor showed me in his stores-tent a sober suit of gray clothes, not military clothes, but of a cut that might deceive the eye at a distance, yet when closer seen would exonerate the wearer from any suspicion that he was seriously offering himself as a Confederate.
"Now, I had to guess at it," said the Doctor; "but I think it will fit you well enough."
It did fit well enough; it was loose and comfortable, and, purposely, had been soiled somewhat after making. The Doctor gave me also a black felt hat.
"Have you studied the map I gave you?" he asked.
"Yes, I can remember the roads and streams thoroughly," I answered.
"Then do not take it; all you want is a knife and a few trivial things such as keys in your pocket, so that if you should be searched nothing can be proved. Leave all your money in bills behind; coin will not be bad to take; here are a few Confederate notes for you."
"Do I need a pass?"
"Yes; here is a paper that may hang you if you are caught by the Confederates; use it to go through your lines, and then destroy it; I want you to get back again. If you should be captured, a pass would betray you; if your men got you and will not let you go, it will not be difficult to explain at headquarters."
"I