Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1877-07-18

~ ''S ~ SoLulOl 10 lle' lG lGldleu every
thing 1t gradually seemed to him as if
in his maturity he had recovered Il mother;
it gradually seemed to her as if in her be-
reavement she had found SON. During
his stay in England. the quiet garden into
which he had slowly and painfully crept, a
stranger, became the boundary of his
nomei when he was able to reioin his reg
iment in the spring, he left the garden,
thinking was this indeed the first time he
had ever turned his face toward the old
colors with womans blessing.
lie followed them-so ragged, so scar
red and pierced now, that they would
hardly hold together-to Quatre Bras and
Ligny. lie stood beside them, in IN aw-
ful stiffness of many men, shadowy
through the mist and drizzle of wet
June forenoon, on the field of Waterloo.
And down to that hour the picture in his
mind of the French officer had never been
compared with the reality.
The famous regiment was in action early
IN The battle, and received its first check
IN many an eventful year, when he was
seen to fall But it swept on to ayenge
him, and left behind it no such creature in
the world of consciousness as Lieutenant
Richard Doubledick
Through pits of mire and pools of rain ;
along deep bitches, once roads, that were
pounded and ploughed to pieces by artille-
ily' heavy wagons, tramp of men and
horses, and the struggle of every wheeled
thing that could carry wounded soldiers
Io'ted among the dying and the dead, so
dlshgured by blood and mud Us to be
hardly recognizable; for humanity undis-
turbed by the moaning of men and the
shrleklng OF horses, which, newly taken
from the peaceful pursuits of life, could
not endure the sight of the stragglcrs ly-
ing by he wayside, never to resume their
tollsome journey; dead as to any sentient
life that was in it, and yet alive-the form
that had been Lieutenant Richard Double
dick, with whose praises England rang,
was conveyed to Brussels. There it was
tenderly laid down in the hospital; and
there ii lay, week after week, through the
the long, bright summer days, until the
harvest, spared by war, ripened and was
gathered in.
Over and over again the sun rose and
set upon the crowded city; over and over
again the moonlight nights were quiet on
the plains Of Waterloo; and all that time
was blank to what had been Lieutenant
Richard Doubledick. Rejoicing troops
marched into Brussels and marched out
brothers and fathers. sisters, mothers anC
wives. came thronging thither, drew theil
lots of JOY or agony, and departed; 81
many times day the bells rang; so many
times the shadows of the great buildings
changed; 50 many lights sprang up a
Dusk so many feet passed here and there
upon the pavements; so many hours o.
sleep and cooler air of night succeeded
Indifferent TO all, a marble face of Il re
cumbent statue on the tomb of Lieuten
ant Richard DoubledicE.
Slowly laboring, at last, through lon(
heavy dream of confused time and place
presenting faint glimpses of army surgeons
whom he knew, and Of faces that haC
been familiar 10 his youth, dearest ant
kindest among them, Mary Marshall's
with solicitude upon it more like realit,
than anything he could discern-Lieuten
ant Richard Dcubledick came back TO life
To the beautiful life of calm autumi
evening sunset, to the peaceful life of
fresh quiet room. with n large windoV
stand ng open; balcony beyond, agains
the clear sky, with the sun full in his sight
f pouring its golden radiance on his bed.
1t was so tranquil and lovely that h
thought he had passed into another world
And he said in faint voice, " Taunton
are you near mc?'
A face bent over him. Not his, hi
mothers.
II came to nurse you. We have nurs
ed you many weeks You were move
here long ago. Do you remember moth
, ing?"
Nothing"
The lady kissed his cheek, and held hi
hand soothing him.
"Where is the regiment9 What ha
happened? Let me call you mother
What has happened, mother"
"A great victory, dear. The war
over, and the regiment was the bravest i
the field"
His eyes kindled, his lips trembled, h
sobbed, and the tears ran down his face
He was very weak, too weak to move hi
hand.
WAS it dark just now?" he asked pres
emily
| No"
at was only dark to me? Somethin
, passed away, like black shadow. Bu
rs it went, and the sun-oh, the blesse
sun, how beautiful it is!-touched my face
| thought saw a light, white cloud pas
out ut the door. Was there nothing tn;
went?n
+ She shook her head, and in little Will
/ he fell asleep, she still holding his hant
; and soothing him.
: From that time he recovered. Slowly
G for he had been desperately wounded /
the head, and had been shot in the body
t but making some little advance every day
n When he had gained sufficient strength
O converse as he lay in bed, he soon bega
. to remark that Mrs. Taunton alwaN
e brought him back to his own history
/ Then he recalled his preseryer's dyin
words, and thought, " it comforts her."
One day he awoke out of q sleep I,
n freshed, and asked her to read to hin
4 But the curtain of the bed, soltening I'll
light which she always drew back whe
O he awoke, that she might see him troi
= her table at the bedside where she sat
h work, was held undrawn; and a woman
a voice spoke which was lot hers.
d Can you bear to see II strangcr?'
d said softly. "Will you like to see stral
g ger?'
II Stranger!" he repeated. The voit
awoke old memories before the days
/, Private Richard Doubledick.
o "A stranger now, but not strang
s once" it said in tones that thrilled hin
l. g Richard, dear Richard, lost through
l. many years, my name"
e He cried out her name, Mary" al
Il she held him in her arms, and his hes
lay on her bosom,
y Il am not breaking my rash vow, Ric
Q ard. These are not Mary Marshall's Ii
/, that speak. have another name"
| She was married.
5, IL have another name, Richard. d
you ever hear ?"
e Never"
le Don't move your head to look at NJ
Id dear Richard Let it lie here, while Il
Jr my story. / loved a generous, noble ma
loved him with my whole heart; Low
a him for years and years; loved him fait
I'd fully, devotedly; loved with no hope
Is return; loved him, knowing nothing
his higher qualities-not even knowi
W that he was alive. He was brave S,
dicr. He was honored and beloved
te thousands, when the mother of his dc
IN friend found me, and showed me that
T. all his triumphs he had never forgot
h. me. He was wounded in great bait