Page:Once a Week Volume V.djvu/642

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Nov. 30, 1861.]
NEW PHASE OF THE AMERICAN STRIFE.
635

years abroad, and thus grafted upon the substantial stem of a true English matron’s nature were the ease and grace of continental manners. Mrs. Dowling was evidently a favourite with her ladyship, while Nat was, as usual, gloomy, half sullen, and far from pleasant. In due course, the ladies adjourned to the drawing-rooms, and as the dinner was a late one the men shortly followed. A brilliant scene was that which now presented itself, for all that wealth and exquisite taste could accomplish was there to attract and delight. Guests after guests continued to arrive, the concert had commenced, and in due season the Joneses of Montpelier were announced. They were introduced to Lady Cassaldane by my humble self, according to their previous request, for though cards had of course been exchanged, her ladyship and the Joneses were not personally acquainted. It would be utterly impossible to describe their look of astonishment, if not of dismay, when they observed, standing close to their host and hostess, Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Dowling. They were too great adepts in the world’s ways, however, to permit this feeling to be more than momentary, and in the most condescending manner they went and shook hands with the Dowlings, throwing a kind of patronising warmth in the tones of their voices, as much as to say, now we meet on mutual grounds, now we can afford to be cordial.

“Oh! dear Mrs. Dowling, how charming you look to-night,” exclaimed Annie, the eldest.

“Yes, quite blooming,” said Janie, the second.

“But, why,” asked Maggie, the youngest, “were you so unfashionable as to arrive so early, dear Mrs. Dowling; were you not afraid of being thought a leetle gauche?

“I did not come earlier than the hour named,” answered Mrs. Nat, in her quiet, unaffected way; “the invitation said, ‘dinner at a quarter before eight,’ and we were here at eight exactly.”

“Dinner at eight!” exclaimed the three ladies, in one voice, forgetting their good breeding in their astonishment, “did you dine here?”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Dowling, with true delicacy, not appearing to observe the rude part of the question, “is there anything very strange in our being punctual?”

Let me live till I am a mere fossil remains to be lectured upon by my scientific friends, I shall never forget the expression of the Misses Jones’ expressive countenances at this reply, nor shall I cease to remember their intense fidgets all the evening, their sulky looks, and their ill-disguised disgust. It was too much for their powers of forbearance, and being unable to throw even a thin veil over their injured pride and feelings, they departed at a tolerably early hour, first thanking Lady Cassaldane (oh, bitter necessity! ) for her kindness in remembering them on an occasion so agreeable, and if a climax were wanting to the whole affair, it was there when Lady Cassaldane replied:

“Indeed, I am only too delighted. Miss Jones, to make your acquaintance, and I am indebted to Mrs. Dowling for reminding me of your being residents at Brighton, and thus affording me the opportunity of welcoming you to my house.”

The Three Graces made a courteous reply, and incontinently withdrew, but the smiles on their lips were belied by the ill humours rankling within, and I thought to myself, “You were quite right, friend Nat, when you declared on that memorable evening, ‘you were going to punish those Joneses!

NEW PHASE OF THE AMERICAN STRIFE.


The war in America has not been standing still, though “the great battle on the Potomac” has not yet been fought. It has been obvious from the first that deliberation was advantageous for the North, and mischievous for the South, though there is a sense in which the reverse has been supposed to be true. It is set forth that the Northern army is composed of citizens who cannot leave their farms and their shops for many weeks at a time; whereas the work is, in the South, all done by slaves; so that the masters are at liberty for military duty. To this the reply is that the Northern volunteer army is now composed of men who have pledged their services for three years. How their business goes on at home is their affair: but their arrangements are such as enable them to serve for three years. By the glimpses which are opened to us we see something of what life in New England is at present. Everybody is more busy than ever before; and everybody who is not mourning some slain relative or friend is in a higher mood of mind and spirits than ever before. Taking the lowest consideration first,—trade is brisk; mills and shops are full of activity; money comes in plentifully, and goes out lavishly “for the cause.” The married men with young families are not taken for the army while bachelors and childless men can be had; and it is astonishing how much those left at home find that they can do. The farm, the shop, the saw-mill and the fishing-boat, are all attended to somehow,—by boys, old men, women, or neighbours: and it is known to be for a three years’ term. The women are all knitting at every spare moment. Over whole States the knitting-needles are plied; and hundreds of pairs of warm stockings go off” to the camps every day. The force which has thus three years before it may take time (an option existing) for training; and it is well understood that the generals in command anxiously insist that there must be much training before the fate of the Republic is committed to the chances of the battle-field.

With the Southern army the case is different. The élite of the force consists of the landed gentry and the merchants of the cities. The bulk of the troops are the landless and poor whites, of whom we have heard so much of late years. Both these orders of citizens have been handling arms all their lives. Indeed, the only thing the “poor whites” can do, generally speaking, is fighting: and they consider that this war is Fortune’s amende to them for her harshness hitherto. They get their living, and a great deal of consideration and amusement, in an occupation to which they are adequate. But discontents are yet running high in the Confederate camps at the slow progress of the war. The planters are restless about their homes and property, as winter approaches. The slaves have been left quite long enough to the