Presently a single gun breaks the oppressive silence. The work of destruction begins. Heavy volumes of smoke rise up all over the forests. Men on horse-back are seen flying in every direction. One remarkable man, clad in a red flannel shirt, symbolical of the fierce spirit within, is seen galloping from one scene of carnage to another, under the inspiration of a courage that never failed. At last, he reels and falls, and the fiery form of A. P. Hill disappears from the scenes of history forever.
It is remarkable that Lee and Jackson in their last moments on earth, when they were unconscious of all temporal things, and their imaginations were roving lawlessly over the gory fields where they had been such prominent actors, both called for A. P. Hill. It is a high compliment to the hero’s military genius. But Jackson himself went down in the thundering cyclone of war, and was seen no more. Alas! such men as these had to be swept from the path of destiny before the divine purpose could be accomplished. We mourn for our fallen braves, and yet we thank God that such scenes as gave them undying fame have ceased, we hope, forever, in these States now cemented with intermingling fraternal blood!
One bright morning in April, 1865, the members of Dr. Arrington’s family were all seated around the breakfast table. Every face wore a sad, anxious expression. The news of Lee’s surrender, which some doubted, had been received, but not the particulars of his last battle. Who had fallen? Mildred looked at the smoking dishes, but could not eat. Where was Ernest? She had seen him but three or four times since their marriage, and he had been in all of Lee’s battles. O, could it be possible that he had been killed in the last fight? The thought made her shudder.
“Why do you not eat?” asked the Doctor kindly.
“How can I, father?” Mildred answered sadly. “I am heart-sick. This suspense is awful.”
“Have faith in God,” said the Doctor. “The last time we heard from Ernest he was well. What reason have you to suppose he is otherwise now?”
“There has been a battle or two since then, and some are killed in every fight.”
“Do not anticipate, my child. Never make trouble for yourself. What is the use of grieving over imaginary calamities?”
“I know, father, that you are right; but it is so hard to be perfectly resigned to God’s will.”