My eyes were full of tears, and I could scarcely speak; for I
felt that I had gained very little ground, or better no ground
at all. What indeed could I have expected to gain? Papa sat
still, and I looked over at Jerusalem, where the westing sun
was making a bath of sunbeams for the old domes and walls. A
sort of promise of glory, which yet touched me exceedingly
from its contrast with present condition. Even so of other
things, and other places besides Jerusalem. But Melbourne
seemed to be in shadow. And Magnolia? I wondered what papa would say next, or whether our talk had
come to a deadlock then and there. I had a great deal more
myself to say; but the present opportunity seemed to be
questionable. And then it was gone; for Mr. Dinwiddie mounted
the hill and came to take a seat beside us.
"Any news, Mr. Dinwiddie?" was papa's question, as usual.
"From America."
"What sort of news?"
"Confused sort - as the custom is. Skirmishes which amount to
nothing, and tell nothing. However, there is a little more
this time. Fort Henry has been taken, on the Tennessee river,
by Commander Foote and his gunboats."
"Successes cannot always be on one side, of course," remarked
my father.
"Roanoke Island has been taken, by the sea and land forces
under Burnside and Goldsborough."
"Has it!" - said papa. "Well, - what good will that do them?"
"Strengthen their hearts for continuing the struggle," said
Mr. Dinwiddie. "It will do that."
"The struggle cannot last very long," said my father. "They
must see sooner or later how hopeless it is."
"Not in the light of these last events," said Mr. Dinwiddie.
"What does my other friend here think about it?"
"About what, Mr. Dinwiddie?"
"The length of the struggle."
"Do you think Daisy has some special means of knowledge?"
asked my father, carelessly.
"Well - yes," said Mr Dinwiddie. "She has been among Northern
friends a good while; perhaps she can judge better of their
tone and temper than I can, - or you, sir."
"I cannot hold just the view that you do, Mr. Dinwiddie, - or
that papa does."
"So I supposed. You think there are some good soldiers in the
Northern army."
"It would be absurd to suppose there are not," said my father;
"but what they do want, is a right understanding of the spirit
of the South. It is more persistent and obstinate, as well as
strong, than the North takes any account of. It will not
yield. It will do and endure anything first."
I thought I had heard papa intimate a doubt on that issue;
however I said nothing.
"If spirit would save a people," Mr. Dinwiddie rejoined,
"those walls over against us would not bear the testimony they
do. No people ever fought with more spirit than this people.
Yet Jerusalem is a heap of ruins."