4. CHAPTER IV.
THE ATTACK AND REPULSE.
At the appointed hour the bridal company had assembled
in St. John's Church. If the military preparations for
battle had been kept a secret from the inhabitants of the
city, it was very different with the hymeneal preparations.
For weeks the contemplated wedding had been the theme
of Washington correspondents for the press, and the nuptial
day had been repeatedly announced in the newspapers, from
Boston to New Orleans. From her glossy black hair to the
very hem of her garment, the vigilant reporters had omitted
nothing in the descriptions of the charming bride; and the
fact that the President's daughter was to be present on the
occasion, in the capacity of bridesmaid, had likewise been
ascertained and duly promulgated. It was no wonder, then,
that the church contained quite a congregation of witnesses.
The bridal party, upon descending from the carriages, lost
no time in proceeding to the altar, where they were met by
the priest in the vestments of his office. The holy man, after
seeing that all were in their appropriate places, cast his eyes
down on the book in his hand, and his lips began to move,
when they were all startled by the report of musketry, at
no great distance from the church; and during the pause
which ensued, the rush of horsemen was distinctly heard.
Turning his eyes towards the door, Henry Blount recognised
the well known form of General Crook, followed by a company
of mounted men, dashing furiously in the direction of
the White House.
“Pray be brief, sir!” exclaimed the bridegroom, addressing
the minister, who stood pale and trembling, whilst the
occupants of the pews had all risen to their feet.
Again the priest cast his eyes on the page, and advanced
a step in the chancel,—when all were amazed by the shrill
cry of Maud Clusky in the gallery.
“Laws a' mercy!” she screamed, “they're shooting real
balls and bullets! Yonder's some people killed in the street!”
Alice, instead of supporting the bride, took refuge on the
breast of her friend. Edith alone was composed, but very
pale. The two Senators stood like marble statues, looking
at each other.
“Is this your work?” asked Mr. Langdon.
“No, sir; nor Harry's.”
“Proceed!” once more said the younger Blount to the
minister, in an urgent tone, which attested his anxiety; for
now the vibrations of rapid discharges of cannon, in the
vicinity, were causing the glass to fall from the windows.
“They're fighting!” exclaimed Dick Clusky, springing
in at the door, and rushing quite up to the altar.
“Where is the carriage?” demanded Henry.
“Near the door, sir. I was afraid to stay there, sir. Gen.
Crook told me to tell you all you shouldn't be hurt—but he
can't stop the cannon balls, and they're flying everywhere.
His foot soldiers have left the Avenue, and now they're
shooting right past the church at the White House. Boo!”
and the frightened youth gave vent to sobs and tears.
“Return to your horses, or I will take your life!” said
Henry, with so ferocious an aspect, that poor Dick, believing
death imminent anywhere, resolved to die at his post,
and so withdrew, without paying the slightest attention to
his mother, who vehemently forbade his departure.
“Now, sir!” said Henry, once more turning to the priest.
But at that moment an eight-pound projectile struck the
roof of the church, ploughing through the arch of the ceiling,
and precipitating a quantity of lime and clouds of dust.
“God save us!” ejaculated the priest, the book falling
from his hands. Henry sprang forward and restored it.
“It must be postponed!” said Mr. Langdon, drawing his
daughter's arm through his own.
“'Tis well, perhaps,” said the elder Blount to his son.
“And you, Edith! Do you renounce me at the altar?”
“No, Harry,” said she, in a voice singularly distinct and
calm; “I shall never renounce you anywhere; but my
father commands on the present fearful occasion. We
must submit.”
“Come with me to the mansion,” said Alice, still clinging
to her friend, and vainly striving to emulate her
composure.
A moment after the minister had vanished, and the people
were rushing out and dispersing in all directions. The
bridal party were the last to reach the door, half suffocated
by the dust which still descended from the breach made by
the ball; and before they had all ascended the steps of
the President's coach, which Dick had driven on the occasion,
General Crook came thundering back, discomfited, at
the head of his diminished troop. His brow was dark with
rage and disappointment, and he spurred forward without
glancing to the right or the left. He was followed immediately
by some dragoons, led by Col. Carleton; and galloping
at his side was the President himself, in full military
costume, and with a sword in his hand, stained with blood.
“Give them no opportunity to rally, Colonel!” said he,
as he drew rein at the window of the coach.
“Oh! father!” exclaimed Alice, in tears.
“What! tears, Alice?” he rejoined, smiling blandly.
“The danger is over. A few discharges swept them out of
the Avenue! Why, daughter, we are victorious. It is an
exhilarating triumph; and henceforth remember you are a
soldier's daughter.”
“True!” whispered Henry to Edith, as he regarded the
animated features of the President.
“Joy, Edith!” continued the President, kissing his hand.
Then addressing Dick, he said: “Drive to the mansion.
Gentlemen, by your leave, the bridal festivity shall be under
my roof.”
“There has been no wedding, sir!” said Mr. Langdon.
“I forbade it. But we will accept your hospitality and protection.
I still hear the discharges of cannon.”
“They have one battery yet,” said the President. And
just then several branches of one of the trees in front of
the Church fell to the earth; “but Carleton will soon silence
that. Come!” And saying this he led the way through
the grounds to the mansion. As they alighted at the portico,
the gentlemen were surprised to see the premises abounding
with soldiers.
“This resembles a regular encampment!” said Henry,
lingering and looking round, after the ladies had entered.
“They are mostly regulars,” said the President, indifferently.
“I was not aware that such a force was in the vicinity of
the Capitol,” said the elder Blount.
“Not exceeding four thousand,” said the President, with
a significant look.
“I understand!” said Mr. Langdon. “And this, after
all, Randolph, may be the most congenial pursuit. I have
had such intimations. And you have been a calm spectator
during our extraordinary proceedings!”
“It was incumbent on the Chief Executive to provide for
any emergency,” said the President, with determination.
“And, gentlemen,” he added, with a flashing eye and a
contracted brow, “rely upon it, the Federal authority will
be maintained, if forty, or even eighty thousand troops will
suffice.”
The elder Blount shook his head as he followed the President,
who led the way into the hall. Harry, in silence, his
lip slightly compressed, was the last to follow.
