CHAPTER XX. THE END OF THE STRUGGLE.

Vincent directed his course so that while the boat's head was still

pointing up the stream, and she was apparently moving in the same

direction as the ships, she was gradually getting out to the middle of

the river. Had he tried to row straight across suspicion might at once

have been excited. In half an hour they were in the middle of the

stream. A vessel passing under full sail swept along at a distance of a

hundred yards, and they were hailed. Vincent merely waved his hand and

continued his course.

"I dare say those fellows wonder what we are up to, Tony; but they are

not likely to stop to inquire. In another quarter of an hour we shall be

pretty safe. Ah! there's a fellow who might interfere with us," he added

looking round. "Do you see that little black thing two miles ahead of

us? that's a steam launch. If she sees us making over she's likely

enough to come and ask us some questions. We had better head a little

more toward the shore now. If it comes to a race every foot is of

importance."

Up to now they had been rowing in an easy and leisurely manner, avoiding

all appearance of haste. They now bent to their oars, and the boat began

to travel a good deal faster through the water. Vincent glanced over his

shoulder frequently at the steam launch.

"She is keeping straight on in the middle of the channel, Tony;

evidently she hasn't noticed us yet."

Ten minutes after passing the ship he exclaimed sharply:

"Row, Tony, as hard as you can; the launch has just passed that ship,

and has changed her course. I expect the captain has called their

attention to us. It's a race now."

The boat, at the moment the launch changed her course, was rather more

than halfway between the center of the channel and the shore. The launch

was in the center of the channel, and three-quarters of a mile higher

up. She had evidently put on steam as she started to cut off the boat,

for there was now a white wave at her bow.

"I think we shall do it, Tony," Vincent said. "I don't suppose she can

go above eight miles an hour and we are certainly going four, and she

has more than twice as far to travel as we have."

Those on board the launch were evidently conscious that they were likely

to lose the race, for in a few minutes they began to open fire with

their rifles.

"Fire away," Vincent said. "You ain't likely to hit us a thousand yards

off, and we haven't another three hundred to row."

The bullets whistled overhead, but none of them struck the water within

many yards of the boat, and the launch was still four or five hundred

yards away when the bow of the boat touched the shore. Several muskets

were discharged as Vincent and Tony leaped out and plunged into the

bushes that came down to the water's edge. The launch sent up a sharp

series of whistles, and random shots were for some time fired into the

bushes.

"It is lucky she didn't carry a small gun in her bow," Vincent said;

"for though seven or eight hundred yards is a long range for a rifle,

they might likely enough have hit us if they had had a gun. Now, Tony,

we shall have to be careful, for those whistles are no doubt meant as an

alarm; and although she cannot tell who we are, she will probably steam

up, and if they have any force opposite Bermuda will give them news that

two suspicious characters have landed, and they will have parties out to

look for us."

"Dey can look as long as dey like, sah. Ef dose slave-hunters can't find

people in de swamps what chance you tink dose soldiers have? None at

all. Dey haven't got no reward before dere eyes, and dey won't want to

be going in ober dere shoes into de mud and dirtying dere uniforms. No

fear ob dem, sah. Dey make as much noise when dey march in de wood as a

drove ob pigs. You can hear dem a quarter ob a mile away."

They tramped on through the woods through which McClellan's force had so

painfully made their way during their first advance against Richmond.

From time to time they could hear noises in the forest--shouts, and once

or twice the discharge of firearms.

"Dey call dat hunting, I s'pose," Tony said scornfully.

They kept steadily on until it began to grow dark in the forest. They

were now in the White Oak Swamp and not eight miles from Richmond, and

they thought it better to pause until it became quite dark, for they

might be picked up by any raiding party of cavalry. Vincent was in high

spirits. Now, that he had succeeded in his enterprise, and had escaped

almost by a miracle, he was eager to get back to Richmond and carry his

news down to General Lee. Tony was even more anxious to push on. At

last, after three years' absence, he was to see his wife and child

again, and he reluctantly agreed to Vincent's proposal for a halt.

"We sha'n't stop very long, Tony; and I own I am waiting quite as much

because I am hungry and want to eat, and because I am desperately tired,

as from any fear of the enemy. We walked twenty miles last night from

Union Grove to the river, then I walked to the boat, back to the farm

and then back to the boat again--that's three more miles--and we have

gone another twenty now. I am pretty nearly dead beat, I can tell you."

"I'se tired too, sah; but I feel I could go on walking all night if I

was to see Dinah in de morning."

"Well, I couldn't, Tony; not to see any one. I might be willing enough,

but my legs wouldn't take me."

They ate a hearty meal, and almost as soon as they had finished Vincent

stood up again.

"Well, Tony, I can feel for your impatience, and so we will struggle on.

I have just been thinking that when I last left my mother a week since

she said she was thinking of going out to the Orangery for a month

before the leaves fell, so it is probable that she may be there now. It

is only about the same distance as it is to Richmond, so we will go

straight there. I shall lose a little time, of course; but I can be

driven over to Richmond, so it won't be too much. Besides, I can put on

a pair of slippers. That will be a comfort, for my feet feel as if they

were in vises. A cup of tea won't be a bad thing, too."

During their walk through the wood Vincent had related the circumstances

of the carrying away of Dinah and of her rescue. When he had finished

Tony had said:

"Well, Massa Wingfield, I don't know what to say to you. I tought I owed

you enuff before, but it war nothing to dis. Just to tink dat you should

take all dat pains to fetch Dinah back for me. I dunno how it came to

you to do it. It seems to me like as if you been sent special from heben

to do dis poor nigger good. Words ain't no good, sah; but if I could

give my life away a hundred times for you I would do it."

It took them nearly three hours' walking before they came in sight of

the Orangery.

"There are lights in the windows," Vincent said. "Thank goodness they

are there."

Vincent limped slowly along until he reached the house.

"You stay out here, Tony. I will send Dinah out to you directly. It will

be better for her to meet you here alone."

Vincent walked straight into the drawing-room, where his mother and

Annie were sitting.

"Why, Vincent!" Mrs. Wingfield exclaimed, starting up, "what has

happened to you? What are you dressed up like that for? Is anything the

matter?"

"Nothing is the matter, mother, except that I am as tired as a dog. Yes,

my dress is not quite fit for a drawing-room," he laughed, looking down

at the rough trousers splashed with mud to the waist, and his flannel

shirt, for they had not waited to pick up their coats as they left the

boat; "but nothing is the matter, I can assure you. I will tell you

about it directly, but first please send for Dinah here."

Mrs. Wingfield rang the bell on the table beside her.

"Tell Dinah I want to speak to her at once," she said to the girl that

answered it. Dinah appeared in a minute.

"Dinah," Vincent said, "has your boy gone to bed?"

"Yes, sah; been gone an hour ago."

"Well, just go to him, and put a shawl round him, and go out through the

front door. There is some one standing there you will be glad to see."

Dinah stood with open eyes, then her hands began to tremble.

"Is it Tony, sah; for de Lord's sake, is it Tony?"

Vincent nodded, and with a little scream of joy she turned and ran

straight to the front door. She could not wait now even to fetch her

boy, and in another moment she was clasped in her husband's arms.

"Now, Vincent, tell us all about it," his mother said. "Don't you see we

are dying of curiosity?"

"And I am dying of fatigue," Vincent said; "which is a much more painful

sort of death, and I can think of nothing else until I have got these

boots off. Annie, do run and tell them to bring me a pair of slippers

and a cup of tea, and I shall want the buggy at the door in half an

hour."

"You are not going away again to-night, Vincent, surely?" his mother

said anxiously. "You do look completely exhausted."

"I am exhausted, mother. I have walked seven or eight-and-forty miles,

and this cavalry work spoils one for walking altogether."

"Walked forty-eight miles, Vincent! What on earth have you done that

for?"

"Not from choice, I can assure you, mother; but you know the old saying,

'Needs must when the devil drives,' and in the present case you must

read 'Yankee' instead of 'the gentleman in black.'

"But has Petersburg fallen?" Mrs. Wingfield asked in alarm.

"No; Petersburg is safe, and is likely to continue so. But you must

really be patient, mother, until I have had some tea, then you can hear

the story in full."

When the servant came in with the tea Vincent told her that she was to

tell Dinah, whom she would find on the veranda, to bring her husband

into the kitchen, and to give him everything he wanted. Then, as soon as

he had finished tea, he told his mother and sister the adventures he had

gone through. Both were crying when he had finished.

"I am proud of you, Vincent," his mother said. "It is hard on us that

you should run such risks; still I do not blame you, my boy, for if I

had ten sons I would give them all for my country."

Vincent had but just finished his story when the servant came in and

said that the buggy was at the door.

"I will go in my slippers, mother, but I will run up and change my other

things. It's lucky I have got a spare suit here. Any of our fellows who

happened to be going down to-night in the train would think that I was

mad were I to go like this."

It was one o'clock in the morning when Vincent reached Petersburg. He

went straight to his quarters, as it would be no use waking General Lee

at that hour. A light was burning in his room, and Dan was asleep at the

table with his head on his arms. He leaped up with a cry of joy as his

master entered.

"Well, Dan, here I am safe again," Vincent said cheerily. "I hope you

had not begun to give me up."

"I began to be terribly frightened, sir--terribly frightened. I went dis

afternoon and asked Captain Burley if he had any news ob you. He said

'No;' and asked me ef I knew where you were. I said 'No, sah;' that I

knew nuffin about it except that you had gone on some dangerous job. He

said he hoped that you would be back soon; and certainly, as far as dey

had heard, nuffin had happened to you. Still I was bery anxious, and

tought I would sit up till de last train came in from Richmond. Den I

tink I dropped off to sleep."

"I think you did, Dan. Well, I am too tired to tell you anything about

it now, but I have one piece of news for you; Tony has come back to his

wife."

"Dat's good news, sah; bery good news. I had begun to be afraid dat Tony

had been shot or hung or someting. I know Dinah hab been fretting about

him though she never said much, but when I am at home she allus asks me

all sorts of questions 'bout him. She bery glad woman now."

The next morning Vincent went to General Lee's quarters.

"I am heartily glad to see you back," the general said warmly as he

entered. "I have blamed myself for letting you go. Well, what success

have you had?"

"Here is a rough plan of the works, general. I have not had time to do

it out fairly, but it shows the positions of all their principal

batteries, with a rough estimate as to the number of guns that each is

intended to carry."

"Excellent!" the general said, glancing over the plan. "This will give

us exactly the information we want. We must set to with our

counter-works at once. The country is indeed indebted to you, sir. So

you managed to cheat the Yankees altogether?"

"I should have cheated them, sir; but unfortunately I came across an old

acquaintance who denounced me, and I had a narrow escape of being shot."

"Well, Captain Wingfield, I must see about this business, and give

orders at once. Will you come and breakfast with me at half-past eight?

Then you can give me an account of your adventures."

Vincent returned to his quarters, and spent the next two hours in making

a detailed drawing of the enemy's positions and batteries, and then at

half-past eight walked over to General Lee's quarters. The general

returned in a few minutes with General Wade Hampton and several other

officers, and they at once sat down to breakfast. As the meal was

proceeding an orderly entered with a telegram for the general. General

Lee glanced through it.

"This, gentlemen, is from the minister of war. I acquainted him by

telegraph this morning that Captain Wingfield, who had volunteered for

the dangerous service, had just returned from the Federal lines with a

plan of the positions and strength of all the works that they are

erecting. I said that I trusted that such distinguished service as he

had rendered would be at once rewarded with promotion, and the minister

telegraphs to me now that he has this morning signed this young

officer's commission as major. I heartily congratulate you, sir, on your

well-earned step. And now, as I see you have finished your breakfast,

perhaps, you will give us an account of your proceedings."

Vincent gave a detailed account of his adventures, which were heard with

surprise and interest.

"That was a narrow escape, indeed," the general said, as he finished.

"It was a marvelous thing your lighting upon this negro, whom you say

you had once had an opportunity of serving, just at that moment; and

although you do not tell us what was the nature of the service you had

rendered him, it must have been a very considerable service or he would

never have risked his life in that way to save yours. When these negroes

do feel attachment for their masters there are no more faithful and

devoted fellows. Well, in your case certainly a good action has met with

its reward; if it had not been for him there could be no question that

your doom was sealed. It is a strange thing too your meeting that

traitor. I remember reading about that escape of yours from the Yankee

prison. He must have been an ungrateful villain, after your taking him

with you."

"He was a bad fellow altogether, I am afraid," Vincent said; "and the

quarrel between us was a long-standing one."

"Whatever your quarrel was," the general said hotly, "a man who would

betray even an enemy to death in that way is a villain. However, he has

gone to his account, and the country can forgive his treachery to her,

as I have no doubt you have already done his conduct toward yourself."

A short time afterward Vincent had leave for a week, as things were

quiet at Petersburg.

"Mother," he said on the morning after he got home, "I fear that there

is no doubt whatever now how this struggle will end. I think we might

keep Grant at bay here, but Sherman is too strong for us down in

Georgia. We are already cut off from most of the Southern States, and in

time Sherman will sweep round here, and then it will be all over. You

see it yourself, don't you, mother?"

"Yes, I am afraid it cannot continue much longer, Vincent. Well, of

course, we shall fight to the end."

"I am not talking of giving up, mother; I am looking forward to the

future. The first step will be that all the slaves will be freed. Now,

it seems to me that however attached they may be to their masters and

mistresses they will lose their heads over this, flock into the towns,

and nearly starve there; or else take up little patches of land and

cultivate them, and live from hand to mouth, which will be ruin to the

present owners as well as to them. Anyhow for a time all will be

confusion and disorder. Now, my idea is this, if you give all your

slaves their freedom at once, offer them patches of land for their own

cultivation and employ them at wages, you will find that a great many of

them will stop with you. There is nowhere for them to go at present and

nothing to excite them, so before the general crash comes they will have

settled down quietly to work here in their new positions, and will not

be likely to go away."

"It is a serious step to take, Vincent," Mrs. Wingfield said, after

thinking the matter over in silence for some time. "You do not think

there is any probability of the ultimate success of our cause?"

"None, mother; I do not think there is even a possibility. One by one

the Southern States have been wrested from the Confederacy. Sherman's

march will completely isolate us. We have put our last available man in

the field, and tremendous as are the losses of the enemy they are able

to fill up the gaps as fast as they are made. No, mother, do not let us

deceive ourselves on that head. The end must come, and that before long.

The slaves will unquestionably be freed, and the only question for us is

how to soften the blow. There is no doubt that our slaves, both at the

Orangery and at the other plantations, are contented and happy; but you

know how fickle and easily led the negroes are, and in the excitement of

finding them selves free and able to go where they please, you may be

sure that the greater number will wander away. My proposal is, that we

should at once mark out a plot of land for each family and tell them

that as long as they stay here it is theirs rent-free; they will be paid

for their work upon the estate, three, four, or five days a week, as

they can spare time from their own plots. In this way they will be

settled down, and have crops upon their plots of land, before the whole

black population is upset by the sudden abolition of slavery."

"But supposing they won't work at all, even for wages, Vincent?"

"I should not give them the option, mother; it will be a condition of

their having their plots of land free that they shall work at least

three days a week for wages."

"I will think over what you say, Vincent, and tell you my decision in

the morning. I certainly think your plan is a good one."

The next morning Mrs. Wingfield told Vincent that she had decided to

adopt his plan. He at once held a long consultation with the overseer,

and decided which fields should be set aside for the allotments,

choosing land close to the negroes' quarters and suitable for the

raising of vegetables for sale in the town.

In the afternoon Mrs. Wingfield went down with him. The bell was rung

and the whole of the slaves assembled. Vincent then made them a speech.

He began by reminding them of the kind treatment they had always

received, and of the good feeling that had existed between the owners of

the Orangery and their slaves. He praised them for their good conduct

since the beginning of the troubles, and said that his mother and

himself had agreed that they would now take steps to reward them, and to

strengthen the tie between them. They would all be granted their freedom

at once, and a large plot of land would be given to each man, as much as

he and his family could cultivate with an average of two days a week

steady labor.

Those who liked would, of course, be at liberty to leave; but he hoped

that none of them would avail themselves of this freedom, for nowhere

would they do so well as by accepting the offer he made them. All who

accepted the offer of a plot of land rent-free must understand that it

was granted them upon the condition that they would labor upon the

estate for at least three days a week, receiving a rate of pay similar

to that earned by other freed negroes. Of course they would be at

liberty to work four or five days a week if they chose; but at least

they must work three days and any one failing to do this would forfeit

his plot of land. "Three days' work," he said, "will be sufficient to

provide all necessaries for yourselves and families and the produce of

your land you can sell, and will so be able to lay by an ample sum to

keep yourselves in old age. I have already plotted out the land and you

shall cast lots for choice of the plots. There will be a little delay

before all your papers of freedom can be made out, but the arrangement

will begin from to-day, and henceforth you will be paid for all labor

done on the estate."

Scarcely a word was spoken when Vincent concluded. The news was too

surprising to the negroes for them to be able to understand it all at

once. Dan and Tony, to whom Vincent had already explained the matter,

went among them, and they gradually took in the whole of Vincent's

meaning. A few received the news with great joy, but many others were

depressed rather than rejoiced at the responsibilities of their new

positions. Hitherto they had been clothed and fed, the doctor attended

them in sickness, their master would care for them in old age. They had

been literally without a care for the morrow, and the thought that in

future they would have to think of all these things for themselves

almost frightened them. Several of the older men went up to Mrs.

Wingfield and positively declined to accept their freedom. They were

quite contented and happy, and wanted nothing more. They had worked on

the plantation since they had been children, and freedom offered them no

temptations whatever.

"What had we better do, Vincent?" Mrs. Wingfield asked.

"I think, mother, it will be best to tell them that all who wish can

remain upon the old footing, but that their papers will be made out and

if at any time they wish to have their freedom they will only have to

say so. No doubt they will soon become accustomed to the idea, and

seeing how comfortable the others are with their pay and the produce of

their gardens they will soon fall in with the rest. Of course it will

decrease the income from the estate, but not so much as you would think.

They will be paid for their labor, but we shall have neither to feed nor

clothe them; and I think we shall get better labor than we do now, for

the knowledge that those who do not work steadily will lose their plots

of land, and have to go out in the world to work, their places being

filled by others, will keep them steady."

"It's an experiment, Vincent, and we shall see how it works."

"It's an experiment I have often thought I should like to make, mother,

and now you see it is almost forced upon us. To-morrow I will ride over

to the other plantations and make the same arrangements."

During the month of August many battles took place round Petersburg. On

the 12th the Federals attacked, but were repulsed with heavy loss, and

2,500 prisoners were taken. On the 21st the Confederates attacked, and

obtained a certain amount of success, killing, wounding, and capturing

2,400 men. Petersburg was shelled day and night, and almost continuous

fighting went on. Nevertheless, up to the middle of October the

positions of the armies remained unaltered. On the 27th of that month

the Federals made another general attack, but were repulsed with a loss

of 1,500 men. During the next three months there was little fighting,

the Confederates having now so strengthened their lines by incessant

toil that even General Grant, reckless of the lives of his troops as he

was, hesitated to renew the assault.

But in the South General Sherman was carrying all before him. Generals

Hood and Johnston, who commanded the Confederate armies there, had

fought several desperate battles, but the forces opposed to them were

too strong to be driven back. They had marched through Georgia to

Atlanta and captured that important town on the 1st of September, and

obtained command of the network of railways, and thus cut off a large

portion of the Confederacy from Richmond. Then Sherman marched south,

wasting the country through which he marched, and capturing Savannah on

the 21st of September.

While he was so doing, General Hood had marched into Tennessee, and

after various petty successes was defeated, after two days' hard

fighting, near Nashville. In the third week in January, 1865, Sherman

set out with 60,000 infantry and 10,000 cavalry from Savannah, laying

waste the whole country--burning, pillaging, and destroying. The town of

Columbia was occupied, sacked, and burned, the white men and women and

even the negroes being horribly ill-treated.

The Confederates evacuated Charleston at the approach of the enemy,

setting it in flames rather than allow it to fall into Sherman's hands.

The Federal army then continued its devastating route through South

Carolina, and at the end of March had established itself at Goldsboro,

in North Carolina, and was in readiness to aid Grant in his final attack

on Richmond.

Lee, seeing the imminence of the danger, made an attack upon the enemy

in front of Petersburg, but was repulsed. He had now but 37,000 men with

which to oppose an enemy of nearly four times that strength in front of

him, while Sheridan's cavalry, 10,000 strong, threatened his flank, and

Sherman with his army was but a few days' march distant. There was

fierce fighting on the 29th, 30th, and 31st of March, and on the 2d of

April the whole Federal army assaulted the positions at Petersburg, and

after desperate fighting succeeded in carrying them. The Confederate

troops, outnumbered and exhausted as they were by the previous week's

marching and fighting, yet retained their discipline, and Lee drew off

with 20,000 men and marched to endeavor to effect a junction with

Johnston, who was still facing Sherman. But his men had but one day's

provision with them. The stores that he had ordered to await them at the

point to which he directed his march had not arrived there when they

reached it, and, harassed at every foot of their march by Sheridan's

cavalry and Ord's infantry, the force fought its way on. The horses and

mules were so weak from want of food that they were unable to drag the

guns, and the men dropped in numbers from fatigue and famine. Sheridan

and Ord cut off two corps, but General Lee, with but 8,000 infantry and

2,000 cavalry, still pressed forward toward Lynchburg. But Sheridan

threw himself in the way, and, finding that no more could be done,

General Lee and the infantry surrendered, and a few days later Generals

Lee and Grant met and signed terms of peace. General Johnston's army

surrendered to General Sherman, and the long and desperate struggle was

at an end.

It was a dreadful day in Richmond when the news came that the lines of

Petersburg were forced, and that General Lee no longer stood between the

city and the invaders. The president and ministers left at once, and

were followed by all the better class of inhabitants who could find

means of conveyance. The negroes, Irish, and some of the lower classes

at once set to work to pillage and burn, and the whole city would have

been destroyed had not a Federal force arrived and at once suppressed

the rioting.

Whatever had been the conduct of the Federal troops during the last year

of the war, however great the suffering they had inflicted upon the

unarmed and innocent population of the country through which they

marched, the terms of peace that General Grant agreed upon, and which

were, although with some reluctance, ratified by the government, were in

the highest degree liberal and generous. No one was to be injured or

molested for the share he had taken in the war. A general amnesty was

granted to all, and the States were simply to return to the position in

the Union that they occupied previous to the commencement of the

struggle.

More liberal terms were never granted by a conqueror to the vanquished.

Vincent was with the cavalry who escaped prior to Lee's surrender, but

as soon as the terms of peace were ratified the force was disbanded and

he returned home. He was received with the deepest joy by his mother and

sister.

"Thank God, my dear boy, that all is over, and you have been preserved

to us. We are beaten, but no one can say that we have been disgraced.

Had every State done its duty as Virginia has we should never have been

overpowered. It has been a terrible four years, and there are few

families indeed that have no losses to mourn."

"It was well you were not in Richmond, mother, the day of the riots."

"Yes; but we had our trouble here too, Vincent. A number of the slaves

from some of the plantations came along this way, and wanted our hands

to join them to burn down their quarters and the house, and to march to

Richmond. Tony and Dan, hearing of their approach, armed themselves with

your double-barreled guns, went down and called out the hands and armed

them with hoes and other implements. When the negroes came up there was

a desperate quarrel, but our hands stood firm, and Tony and Dan declared

that they would shoot the first four men that advanced, and at last they

drew off and made their way to Richmond.

"Your plan has succeeded admirably. One or two of the hands went to

Richmond next day, but returned a day or two afterward and begged so

hard to be taken on again that I forgave them. Since then everything has

been going on as quietly and regularly as usual, while there is scarcely

a man left on any of the estates near."

"And now, mother, that I find things are quiet and settled here, I shall

go down to Georgia and fetch Lucy home. I shall be of age in a few

months, and the house on the estate that comes to me then can be

enlarged a bit, and will do very well."

"Not at all, Vincent. Annie will be married next month. Herbert Rowsell

was here two days ago, and it's all settled. So I shall be alone here.

It will be very lonely and dull for me, Vincent, and I would rather give

up the reins of government to Lucy and live here with you, if you like

the plan."

"Certainly, I should like it, mother, and so, I am sure, would Lucy."

"Well, at any rate, Vincent, we will try the experiment, and if it does

not work well I will take possession of the other house."

"There is no fear of that, mother, none whatever."

"And when are you thinking of getting married, Vincent?"

"At once, mother. I wrote to her the day we were disbanded saying that I

should come in a week, and would allow another week and no longer for

her to get ready."

"Then, in that case, Vincent, Annie and I will go down with you. Annie

will not have much to do to get ready for her own wedding. It must, of

course, be a very quiet one, and there will be no array of dresses to

get; for I suppose it will be some time yet before the railways are open

again and things begin to come down from the North."

Happily Antioch had escaped the ravages of war, and there was nothing to

mar the happiness of the wedding. Lucy's father had returned, having

lost a leg in one of the battles of the Wilderness a year before, and

her brother had also escaped. After the wedding they returned to their

farm in Tennessee, and Mrs. Wingfield, Annie, Vincent, and Lucy went

back to the Orangery.

For the next three or four years times were very hard in Virginia, and

Mrs. Wingfield had to draw upon her savings to keep up the house in its

former state; while the great majority of the planters were utterly

ruined.

The negroes, however, for the most part remained steadily working on the

estate. A few wandered away, but their places were easily filled; for

the majority of the freed slaves very soon discovered that their lot was

a far harder one than it had been before, and that freedom so suddenly

given was a curse rather than a blessing to them.

Thus, while so many went down, the Wingfields weathered the storm, and

the step that had been taken in preparing their hands for the general

abolition of slavery was a complete success.

With the gradual return of prosperity to the South the prices of produce

improved, and ten years after the conclusion of the rebellion the income

of the Orangery was nearly as large as it had been previous to its

outbreak. Vincent, two years after the conclusion of the struggle, took

his wife over to visit his relations in England, and, since the death of

his mother in 1879, has every year spent three or four months at home,

and will not improbably ere long sell his estates in Virginia and settle

in England altogether.