The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1862-08-21
THE WIDOWS TRIAL.
BY HENRY WHITE,

FIR ON tn New York Weekly Atlas.
The wind was bowling and moaning through
the almost deserted streets, driving the snow
in binding clouds into every crevice and door
way. Pedestrians paused in their hurried pro-
gress towards their cheerful fresides, turning
their backs upon the furious steel and storm
wind, endeavoring to catch their breath, and
summoning all their efforts again to combat
the elements. Policemen fitted like shadows
underneath the friendly shed-awnings and re-
cesses, seeking shelter from the pitiless storm.
wle led vehicles tugged along slowly and noise
lessly, through the snow 4hat was fast gaining
an ascendancy over steaming, jaded horses
The city lamps cast but faint glimmer through
the surrounding snoW-fog of a truly wintry
night of January in this great metropolis.
1t was my first night in New York for years
as | had but that day arrived from Europe
where [ had spent four years in sightseeing
and becoming acquainted with the customs ant
habits of the various nations Of the world.
My parents dying when l was but school
boy, was left TO pursue my own course on ar
irving at maturity, and becoming possessed o.
a valuable real estate yielding an income ofnc
mean pretensions, determined to see the world
in all its various forms, and had been vigilant
" pursuing that course through the years men
toned.
sailed forth from my hotel that evening
(stormy though it was)to visit an old and cher
ished friend Of my youth. We had been school
mates together, firm friendship had ever ex-
listed between u.s. and manhood had ripened
that friendship into brotherly love.
George S-was a young man of talents,
prudent and energetic. Upon leaving school
he accepted a clerkship in a mercantile house
doing very extensive business; and at the
time L went abroad George was advancing in
the confidence of his employers, and bidding
fair to become at no distant day the junior
partner in the firm. His letters to me had been
frequent up to the March before my return
Since then 1 had never received any word, or,
in fact, heard of him.
AS approached the well-remembe cred houss
in the upper part of the city, my heart beat
light as | thought Of the surprise my appear
ance would create. There was the same old
fashioned building, looking very familiar yet
there seemed something melancholy and quiet
connected with it. The light in the house burn
ed dimly. Ringing the bell, however, was
ushered into the parlor. bright fire was in
the old crate, but stiffness reigued within the
friendly walls. A step on the stairs drew my
attention to the door aud Georges mother en>
tered the room, clothed in mourning apparel.
| was very cordially greeted by the old iady,
the tears starting in profusion as she recognize
I'd nv countenance. | dare not ask for George
OF his wife, as those sombre garments told too
plainly that the fell destroyer had entered this
humble dwelling and stolen one of the happy
flock.
1t was very difficult task for me, but at last
my anxiety prompted me, and introduced the
subject as delicately as possible, 1t was mo-
ment of intense sorrow 10 me, the tears gush-
ed forth afresh, and it was some tins before
/ fplT ar lao
Grated wound that was out partially healed.
I arose to depart; but composing herself and
motiOning me to be seated, she related, amid
sobs and choking signs, the following story of
her trials:
Zone year ago tonight George, my only
child, brought to his home his lovely bride, and
a happier and livelier company were seldom
gathered together than We're collected in this
room but one short year ago to-night-a year
fraught with sorrow end death
GEORGES wife was one of those persons of
whom it were truly said to behold was to love.
Ofa sprightly, cheerful disposition, she adapt
ed herself to her new home, and our family cir
Gle was perfect.
eft was but a few days after New York was
to its very center on receiving news
of the fall of Sumter, that George came home
at the close of an April day, ana, usual the
question of news was broached, and George
told us of the departure of our Dotle Seventh
Rcgiment for Washington, also that his regi-
rnent was to leave on Sunday for the same des-
tinatiOn
Charlotte asked, in assumed playfa mess, if
he too would go. He replied in the affirmative
and twas then the young bride knew her first
sorrow.
..The eventful Sunday came, day that will
never be forgotten in this city. On the morns
ing parted with my only child in this room
for the last time. l never saw him again.
Cline wore on, and almost daily came let
ters from George, breathing words of comfort,
and assuring us that his term of service would
soon expire, and home again would soon greet
our willing ears, as his manly form noareu our
old abode of comfort.
"Spring time had passed, and summer had
fully crowned the trees with foliage; the at
grew close and sultry, and many
were the prayers that were offered up IN behalf
of our soldiers who were marching under
burning sun and on dusty roads, or perhaps
facing a traitorous foe, exposed to showers of
lead sent on it's deadly mission by no unprac-
tised hands.
Fell disease now entered our dwelling and
fastened on our tayorlte flower On, now
watched that tender plant; but alas the fever
settled on the brain, and the second week in
july, the soul OF Charlotte winged its way to
that spirit land where all isJoy unspeakable,
and partings never come"
II was some moments before Mrs.-was
able to resume her narrative.
Il wrote to George" she resumed, ''but new
or received an answer.
81 was sitting by my window one lovely
moonlight Sabbath evening about week alter
.Ibarlotte's death, when l was startled by the
,ries of the newsboys of great battle IN vir-
rina, and terrible slaughter among the New
York regiments. The next day brought ud-
nos of the battle of Manassas. and few Gays
brought the list of names, IN the daily news"
,apeTs, of the killed, wounded and missing. |
Afnong the latter was George. |
s'Oh, the agony of that announcements to me!
No one but mother can know a mothers
leart, centered upon an only child. For days
walked alternately my room and the streets, |
Despair at times almost unseating reason, ana
ortured by a twofold bereavement. sleep I
orsook my eyelids, and the suspense OF not
knowing the fate of my some paralyzed my
every action.
'In few days the regiment returned, but no
George came to me; crowds thronged Broad
way and cheers on cheers welcomed the return
# battle-scarred soldiers, as their mutllated
,olors were unfolded to the gaze of an excited
and appreciative multitude.
"The next day soldier came to the door
he wore that uniform that told silent tale OF
grief to to me. AS the poor fellow asked for Mrs.
S--the tears rolled down his surnoufnt cheeks.
He who had faced death uDmoved now weptt
like child. In few words he related his SAD
tale. L..
George received my letter Informing him
of his wife's death, on Saturday at CenterVlhe'
in Virginia, the day before the battle. Calmiy
and silently he received the shock, and told his
comrades that to- morrow heswould be with her.
never more to separate; confding to his com
rade this change to see his mother (shonld ne
survived and tell her his last prayer was ior heF
The following morning found his regiment
on the bloody field of Manassas; there III the
tbickest of the carnage amid the shock OF con
and he fell lighting beneath the flag Of i ms cGna
try They raised his head and as the ern !sDUi
.T,1e goinrI Mother Charlotte? and died IN
oornra5as' arms.