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or the electricity in a house went wrong, the captain was always available until the mechanical doctor could come. He had put out one fire with a garden hose. He had cured innumerable sticking drawers (scorning compensation for such an obvious neighborly duty), he had put in panes of glass and planed off doors and mended sidewalks, and he kept three hatchets to lend. No, the captain was too good a neighbor to lose.
"At laist yous could hilp him wid this year's instalment," said Patsy; "'tis siven years they give 'em to pay up. And as a friend Oi'd ask the privilige to be on the paper. And Oi'm thinkin' 'twill maybe cheer the captain up a bit; he's gitting rale downheartid and discouraged. You see his eyes is a failin' a little, as is only suitable for his age; but it hurts him; and only yistiddy a lady-Oi won't name her
That's only his sand," the ex-judge interrupted. "I had a talk with him this afternoon. He was in a bad way. But wasn't it just like him? Of course I wouldn't charge for a little neighborly advice like that; and just a little while before I came out Hetty was
-he done a chair sate for her, upholstering it rale nate, to my moind, but she found fault wid it; and he tuk aff fifty cints to satisfy her. It hurted him. He says, 'She's the second in wan wake,' says he; 'Oi'm losin' me grip,' says he. And he worries 'bout old Hetty Conners, that has lived wid him and his wife iver since the war, Oi guess. She lost her little savings linding 'em to a cousin. He tried his bist to kape her from it, but 'twas no good. You'd ought to seen the scorchin' letther he was afther writin' thot man. Onluckily he'd skipped before he got it, so 'twas wastid loike. And ye know he's lost three old frinds this same year, includin' his old gineral. The old man died down in Ohio, and by some mishtake it didn't git into the papers. Thot cut the captain. They're forgittin' us,' says he, 'it's toime for us to be gettin' aff the stage; there ain't nothin' more for us to do.' Oi think the sooner we kin git thot paper up the betther. For the mon was wild last night, he'd thot horror of debt, and he didn't know which way to turn. Oi've been lookin' fur him all day. He talked loike he wud turn over the whole property to the city and go out to Sophy. But she's got wan sick
over with a package from the captain-he'd sent me a little champfer tool of his I'd always admired: I'm a bit of a carpenter, for amusement, you know. Somehow, I wished he hadn't done that, do you know?"
Patsy had listened, with a frown. "Oi don't loike his actions," he muttered; "does annybody know where he is at this spaking?"
His answer was some one in the group pointing towards the captain's house. A woman, an elderly woman with gray hair, was in the doorway, frantically beckoning.
Every man and woman in the crowd, except the teacher, ran instinctively and silently towards the house. The teacher's face went white; she caught up the child at her side and carried him a little space. "Go home, go right home," she commanded, while the child stared, frightened at the strange something in her mother's voice; "tell Johnny and Harry to go home, and wait for me!"
Then she, too, ran to the captain's house. The yard was full of people, standing in groups, very quiet. Patsy O'Brien came out. The tears were running down his sunburnt cheeks. "They've sint for a doctor," said he. ""Tis no good; Oi've seen death on too manny min's faces not to know it. He's gone. They downed him, and he'd not the courage to go on. He'd a bit of a letther writ to "-Patsy choked-" to me. His frinds was about all gone, he says, and now they was takin' away his home; and he knowed
Sophy wud be betther aff wid the money than wid a cranky old man on her hands, growin' blind at thot. "Tis me last fight, old comrades,' says he, and the boys must forgive me if Oi run away. The odds is too big,' says he. Thot's all ixcipt a koind wurrd to me woman and the kids. He's been sinding little packages of things to the neighbors this day: his tools and the plants in the gardin thot some av thim loiked. He says to old Hetty, he didn't think the city'd moind:
they was goin' to take his property for nothin', and these was little things. Old Hetty, she didn't take it in; she thought he was going to be sold out; and she was cryin' and distractid, but she didn't take it in, not even whin he gave her all the money he'd drawed out of the bank. And she made him the coffee he took the stuff in. He's out av it; and God forgive him; but I'll be prayin' him ivery night niver to forgive Tummus Blaize!"
HE men and women whose memories go back a third of a century, to the days when North and South were in arms against each other, have not been the most ardent to join in the clamor for war. They know the havoc it wrought, and are not eager to repeat the experience. The thousands slain in battle, the tens of thousands afflicted with wounds which often resulted in death after days of agony, the losses of relatives and friends, the anxious waiting for news, the want and distress of body and mind following in the train of warfare, all have left impressions so vivid that thirty-three years of peace have not sufficed to wear them away. War as pursued by modern methods is fearfully expensive both of men and treasure. It has come to be a contest between war chests. The richer the treasury, the more certain is the nation of success. Even a century ago the wrecking of treasure and lives was almost beyond understanding. In the twenty-two years following 1793, Napoleon cost the British and French not less than $6,500,000,000 in money and 1,900,000 lives-the latter number equal to the entire adult male population now living in Greater London and Paris. In the one battle of
Waterloo 51,000 men were lost, 29,000 of whom were British.
The Crimean war of two years cost the nations engaged in it $1,500,000,000 in wealth and over 600,000 of their citizens. The English lost 22,000 out of an army of 98,000, the French 96,000 out of 300,000 original forces; Turkey lost 45,000 men; Russia gathered a splendid army of 888,000, of whom less than half returned to their homes. Lay these 600,000 side by side in soldiers' graves, and the mounds of earth that covered them would extend in unbroken sequence for 450 miles.
Scarcely less fatal was the Franco-German war. France put into the field an army of 710,000 men, and of these 77,000 were killed or died of their wounds, and 45,000 died of sickness. A third of the entire army was either killed or disabled. The Germans sent a million troops, of whom 45,000 died on the battlefield or in the hospitals, and 89,000 were disabled. That brief war cost over 200,000 lives, and required an expenditure of $1,500,000,000. France had, in addition, to pay an indemnity of $1,000,000,000 and to give up Alsace-Lorraine, a total loss it is estimated of not less than $3,000,000,000.
During the last one hundred years the
000,000, which is more by $35,000,000 than ten and twenty years ago and about equal to these same expenditures at the close of the war. It is not improbable from the present outlook that another $2,000,000,000 will be paid in the same way before the obligations of that one war are met. During the past six years, the expenditures for wars past and future have averaged over $250,000,000, or more by $50,000,000 a year than all the other expenses of the Government.
wars of Christian Europe and America have ing annually in interest and pensions $160,cost the lives of 5,000,000 men. March them by in single file, and they would make a procession 3,000 miles long and require six weeks of marching day and night in passing. The wars of the century have destroyed nearly $20,000,000,000 of treasure, an expenditure representing the entire earnings of more than a million men for the entire one hundred years, and the present combined wealth of Norway, Sweden, Denmark, the Netherlands, Portugal, Switzerland, Turkey, and Greece. To-day the debts of the world's leading nations aggregate $28,000,000,000, and probably three-fourths of this is due to war the sins of the fathers visited upon the children to the third and fourth generation. The experiences of our own country illustrate the losses caused by war. That seven years of struggle which gave the nation independence required $135,000,000. To-day the nation can raise a like sum from the gold lying idle in the treasury. But then it fell upon a people whose population was only a twentieth of the present number, and whose wealth was much less in proportion. The United States began their existence with a debt burden of $75,000,000. This was about nineteen dollars per capita, or larger by half than the debt of to-day. The deficit fell to $45,000,000 in 1812. Then came the "second War of Independence," which carried it up to $127,000,000. By 1836 the nation did not owe a dollar.
In 1860 the debt was only $65,000,000. But with the firing on Sumter the people of the North awoke to their task, and thereafter $2,500,000 a day was needed until once more a common flag floated over the nation. That struggle cost the people of the North in direct outlay $3,400,000,000. With the much smaller direct cost to the Confederacy, the destruction of property, and the interference with industries, the total loss must have been not less than $8,000,000,000, or one-half of the entire wealth of the nation before the opening of hostilities.
After the conflict was over the national debt stood at $2,756,000,000. Year after year it has been a drag upon the resources of the country until nearly $2,000,000,000 has been discharged. But in the thirtyseven years since the war opened the nation has paid in interest on that debt an amount equal to the original principal, and $2,250,000,000 more in pensions to the soldiers and their families. These two items, the direct fruits of the war, amount to $5,000,000,000, and the end is not yet. The country is pay
The total cost of the war to North and South would have bought the freedom of every slave, and left enough to pay all the peace expenses of the Federal Government for half a century. The divided nation expended money enough during the struggle to supply every man, woman, and child with ample food for the entire four years. And the sums spent, and to be spent, since because of the war would feed the people for another four years. The treasure destroyed because of that conflict would purchase the entire 185,000 miles of railroad, with all its rollingstock, stations, yards, and other property; and all the 2,300 miles of canals, with every boat that plies through their waters; it would purchase in addition every vessel flying the American flag on all the oceans, rivers, and lakes of the world; all the thousands of miles of telegraph and telephone lines and everything belonging to them; and all the mines and quarries of the nation, including the producers of gold, silver, iron, copper, petroleum, marble, and every other substance that comes from the interior of the earth. Even all these would not exhaust the wealth spent because of that war, since there would yet be enough to buy every schoolhouse and church that the people of this country now own.
Workingmen sometimes welcome war in the belief that it will make times easier and result in better wages. But the days of the Civil War show the very opposite to be true.
The few shrewd, fortunate, or unscrupulous became rich. But for the rank and file of the nation's workers the war was anything but a benefit. True, under the effects of a depreciated currency wages did rise; but only after they had been forced up by much higher prices of life's necessaries. In the whole past fifty years of the nation's history there was never a time when the purchasing power of a day's labor was so small as during the last three years of that conflict.
This will appear unmistakably if we strike. an average of prices of the articles of neces
sary general daily use, and also a similar average of wages, for each year, from, say, 1858 to 1868, and compare these averages year by year. Taking the average wages and average prices of 1860 as 100 per cent., it will appear that wages had been gradually advancing from 80 to 100 during the whole preceding twenty years, an advance that continued in accelerated movement during the war period. And in so far the change was profitable. But at the same time prices of necessaries, which had been disturbed only by local fluctuations prior to 1861, suddenly jumped to two and three times their former standard. The result was that, while a man got more money for his day's labor, it was worth far less to him in the purchase of the goods he needed. In 1865 his wages were nearly a half more than in 1860, but prices of goods had gone up to two and a third times the former level. Under these conditions a day's labor would buy in that year only two-thirds as much as before the war. Men thought they were getting big returns for their work, but the enormous cost of the necessaries of life made these hard to obtain. Those who during the recent hard times have had their wages cut down a third from the standard of 1892 know what this must have meant to the struggling families of the home guard thirty years before.
There are other evidences of the sacrifices of those days. Many farms went untilled or yielded their fruits to the toil of the women, because the men were at the front. Figures show that, even with all the efforts of those at home, the crops of the war years were less in the North by a third than were those of the years before or immediately after that period. And in the South, as the struggle neared its close, the conditions were tenfold worse. Foreign commerce from Southern ports was practically destroyed. In the North it fell to half its former volume. Business failures in the first years of the rebellion were multiplied three fold. Railroad building dropped to but a fourth of its previous standard.
Destroyed wealth can be replaced by later toil, but there were losses of the war which no after efforts could make good. Men were condemned to hobble through life on crutches; shattered health carried thousands to early graves. Starved in the enemies' prisons and wasted with disease in the hospitals and on the field, soldiers went home to die. There were, besides the thousands slain in
battle, the tens of thousands more who suffered intolerable anguish from wounds. Killed, wounded, missing, were the heartrending records of every battle.
The first battle of Bull Run cost the North 3,000 soldiers, and the South 2,000. At Shiloh 13,000 Federals and 11,000 Confederates fell. On the "seven days' retreat," the two armies left behind them 33,000 men. Antietam weakened the Northern army by 12,000, and the Southern by 26,000. At Gettysburg, 23,000 Federals and 32,000 Confederates were mowed down. In the siege of Vicksburg the Southerners lost 31,000 men. The three days in the Wilderness cost the North 38,000. Sherman in his glorious March to the Sea left 37,000 soldiers between Chattanooga and Atlanta. Corinth has a record for both armies of 16,000, Fredericksburg 17,000, Chancellorsville 28,000, Chickamauga 33,000, Spotsylvania 35,000, and Stone's Run 37,000 men. And so the horrors might be multiplied.
Official records show that in the armies of the North 44,000 were killed in action during the war, 49,000 died of wounds, 186,000 died of disease, and 25,000 died from causes unknown, making a total of 304,000 deaths of Northern soldiers. But these numbers do not include those who died at their homes from wounds and disease. It is not too high an estimate to place the deaths in the North from the war at 350,000. And for every Northerner that fell it is believed that a Southerner died also-700,000 lives destroyed in one short war. That struggle multiplied three fold the death rate of ordinary times, and took, not the children, the aged, the sick, and the weak, but the very flower of the nation's manhood. Could every slain soldier have had appropriate burial, the hearses alone would have formed a funeral cortège from ocean to ocean. off every adult man in the broad State of Ohio, and the victims of such a catastrophe would be no more numerous.
Bitter as was the cost of the conflict to the men at the front, scarcely less heavy did misfortune weigh upon those left at home. For the dead there were widows and orphans. For the wounded and sick there were those waiting at home in anxious hope and fear. The newspaper was perused in dread of disaster; the sight of the telegram changed fear of calamity to certainty. Nobly did the women of the North and South sustain the men at the front, but at sacrifices which no figures can measure.
REMINISCENCES OF MEN AND EVENTS OF THE
BY CHARLES A. DANA,
Assistant Secretary of War from 1863 to 1865.
WITH PORTRAITS FROM THE WAR DEPARTMENT COLLECTION OF CIVIL WAR PHOTOGRAPHS.
EXPERIENCES IN THE SECRET SERVICE.-A VISIT TO SHERIDAN.
T was early in July, 1864, that could be had in no other way, about the I left Grant's headquarters strength of the Confederate armies and the at City Point for Washing- preparations and the movements of the enton, where I was to observe emy, we allowed the thing to go on. The and report to the general-in- man really did good service for us that sumchief the progress of Early's mer, and, as we were frequently able to verraid on the Capital. After ify, by other means, the important informathe rebel invaders had re- tion he brought, we had a great deal of tired and quiet was restored, confidence in him. I went to Mr. Stanton for new orders. As there was no probability of an immediate change in the situation before Petersburg, the Secretary did not think it necessary for me to go back to Grant, but preferred that I remain in the Department, helping with the routine work. Most of my time, at this period, was spent investigating charges against defaulting contractors and dishonest agents, and in ordering the arrest of persons who were suspected of disloyalty to the Government. I assisted, too, in supervising the spies who were going back and forth between the lines. Among these I remember a peddlerwhose name I will call Morse-who traveled between Washington and Richmond. When he went down, it was in the character of a man who had entirely hoodwinked the Washington authorities, and who, in spite of them, or by some corruption or other, always brought with him into the Confederate lines something that the people wanted-dresses for the ladies, or some little luxury that they couldn't get otherwise. The things that he took with him were always supervised by our agents before he left Washington. When he came back, he brought us in exchange much valuable information. He was doubtless a spy for both sides; but, as we got a great deal of information, which
Early in October, 1864, he came back from Richmond, and, as usual, went to Baltimore to get his outfit for the return trip. When he presented himself again in Washington, the chief detective of the War Department, Colonel Baker, examined his goods carefully; but this time he found that Morse had many things that we could not allow him to take. Among his stuff was military goods and uniforms, and this, of course, was altogether too contraband to be passed. So we confiscated the goods and put Morse in prison. We had all his bills, amounting to $25,000, or more, showing where he had bought these things in Baltimore, and Secretary Stanton declared that as the merchants in Baltimore were partners in his guilt he would arrest every one of them, and put them in prison until the matter could be straightened up. He turned the matter over to me then, as he was going to Fort Monroe for a few days; and I immediately sent Assistant Adjutant-General Lawrence to Baltimore with orders to see that all persons implicated were arrested. Lawrence telegraphed me, on October 16th, that the case would involve the arrest of two hundred citizens. I reported to the Secretary; but he was determined to go ahead, and the next morning, ninety-seven of the leading citizens of Baltimore were arrested,