The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1905-05-14

Iney mad TO stand alone and bear
| all their burdens; ana, alone, they
| had to plan and execute. They had
| to contend with problems that were
new to them. problems that had never
been solved before; therefore, for
their solution they had to make their
| own rules Added to all which the
women at home had to endure a tor
turing suspense, for, they did not
know how soon the news would come
that the loved ones in the army had
fallen
When other eyes were closed in
sleep, and other hearts were resting,
the wives, mothers and sisters of those
loved ones on the Virginia hills were
spending sleepless hours-their eyes
over running with tears, their hearts
almost bleeding.
Let me give one picture OF home,
from which the young husband had
gone, leaving with the wife, an only
child--a five year old boy. A year
had fed since that young husband
buckled on his sword and went to
the Army of Northern Virginia. He
had been in many battles-some of
them hard fought-but he had not
fought in any that were severer than
those home-battles his wife had
fought.
The Seven Days Fight around
Richmond was going on. The news
had reached her that thousands had
fallen, and the hospitals of Richmond
We're crowded with the wounded. She
had no news from the husband, other
than that the company which he COM
manded had been terribly cut to
pieces.
She sits near an open window that
looks toward the north, and gazing at
CT uyhi n
Bethlehem told the wise men where
the child Jesus was, seemed to her
ray of hope, telling her that the light
had not gone out; but that her hus-
band, though he might be wounded,
was yet alive.
The clock strikes the midnight
hour, and the revery is broken; for
she remembers the sick boy, on the
little trundle bed. whose medicine
and runs her hand across his fore
head. hoping there may be some
abatement of the fever. In his de-
lirium, the little boy calls for father,
and begs that he will come to him.
His piteous cry is like a dagger, sent
to the mothers heart; but, the child
must be quoted and she must do it,
although her own heart is crying out
for 1.-THE father" as well as the little
child.
Having given the medicine to, and
quoted the child. she sits and gazes
at the star that, she imagines, hangs
over Richmond. while her thoughts,
as lightning flashes, go from the sick
child to the husband and back again;
and the fearful question almost
brushes out of her the last ray of
hope: "Will father and child ever see
each other again?''
go, God she murmurs, help me
to bear it all For my country's sake,
help me to be able to say: Thy will
be done'"
She falls alseep, and dreams Of
those happy days, of home life, with
husband and little boy, before the
war had cast it's shadows over the
land. How happy is she in the midst
of that dream. Husband is there, as
she used to see him, and the little boy
just beginning to talk, is sitting on
the fathers knee; while she, SO en-
raptured at the scene. is giving atten-
ton to the prattle of their dear and
only child.
A short hour of repose is broken
by a moan from her sick boy; the
happy dream scenes fade away, and
the dark shadows of a terrible forebo-
ding gather about her. Her boy is
no better, and she realizes that the
scorching fever will soon burn out
its young life. In her loneliness she
weeps, and the woman, in her nature,
begins to cry out for help: 80, God,
how can / bear all this? Dear Sa-
viour, thou burden-bearer, help me to
carry these burdens; and above all,
help me to say: Not my will but
Thine'!"
When the morning sun begins to
Al, as,.J. Gin erf1, fl1lit
sweetest songs, that mother aided,
only by the servants, is performing
the saddest of all duties-robing her
own. and her only, little boy for
burial.
AS she gazes on that bleached face,
now so cold and peaceful, she cannot
keep back the thought that, perhaps,
father and child have already met in
the spirit world; and that, she is all
alone in this: that, the next mail from
Richmond, will bring an account Of
the husbands death in battle.
The soldier in the army had his
comrades, who cheered him; and his
life though hard, and all the time in
peril, had it's excitements and it's
pleasures His was a physical labor
a routine of ever-shifting scenes.
Even the battle field had it's inspira-
tions. The martial music, the wav-
ing flags, the rattle of musketry, the
roar of cannons. the glitter of bayo
nets, the serted ranks and, above all,
the rebel yell" furnished inspiration
which made men forget danger, and
themselves, and rush to victory or
death.
Not so with woman at home. Each
mother, like a picket on the outpost.
had to stand alone, and think, plan
and act for herself, and there was no
relief She had to stand day and
night-all the time. All alone, she
had to measure arms with adverse
circumstances and carry burdens that
would have crushed her, had she not,
like the mother of the Gracchi; been
Il cheerful and a willing giver of the
best and all that she had, for the
country she loved.
L can remember many instances of
heroism, among the women of our
State, that were, never eXcelled, if in
deed equalled, by the women of any
age or country.
Why such heroism? Why were they
willing to card and spin and weave;
look after the farms; raise hogs,