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rmined to go and give battle with my regiment。
The town was afire with patriotism。 Sumter had fallen； Lincoln had issued his first call。 The sound of the fife and drum rang in the streets。 Men gave up work to talk and listen or go into the sterner business of war。 Then one night in April； a regiment came out of New England； on its way to the front。 It lodged at the Astor House to leave at nine in the morning。 Long before that hour the building was flanked and fronted with tens of thousands； crowding Broadway for three blocks； stuffing the wide mouth of Park Row and braced into Vesey and Barday Streets。 My editor assigned me to this interesting event。 I stood in the crowd； that morning； and saw what was really the beginning of the war in New York。 There was no babble of voices； no impatient call； no sound of idle jeering such as one is apt to hear in a waiting crowd。 It stood silent； each man busy with the rising current of his own emotions； solemnified by the faces all around him。 The soldiers ified out upon the pavement； the police having kept a way clear for them； Still there was silence in the crowd save that near me I could hear a man sobbing。 A trumpeter lifted his bugle and sounded a bar of the reveille。 The clear notes clove the silent air； flooding every street about us with their silver sound。 Suddenly the band began playing。 The tune was Yankee Doodle。 A wild； dismal； tremulous cry came out of a throat near me。 It grew arid spread to a mighty roar and then such a shout went up to Heaven； as I had never heard； and as I know full well I shall never hear again。 It was like the riving of thunderbolts above the roar of floods … elemental； prophetic； threatening； ungovernable。 It did seem to me that the holy wrath of God Almighty was in that cry of the people。 It was a signal。 It declared that they were ready to give all that a man may give for that he loves … his life and things far dearer to him than his life。 After that； they and their sons begged for a chance to throw themselves into the hideous ruin of war。
I walked slowly back to the office and wrote my article。 When。 the Printer came in at twelve I went to his room before he had had time to begin work
'Mr Greeley；'I said； 'here is my resignation。 I am going to the war。
His habitual smile gave way to a sober look as he turned to me； his big white coat on his arm。 He pursed his lips and blew thoughtfully。 Then he threw his coat in a chair and wiped his eyes with his handkerchief。
'Well！ God bless you； my boy；'he said。 'I wish I could go； too。
Chapter 38
I worked some weeks before my regiment was sent forward。 I planned to be at home for a day； but they needed me on the staff； and I dreaded the pain of a parting； the gravity of which my return would serve only to accentuate。 So I wrote them a cheerful letter； and kept at work。 It was my duty to interview some of the great men of that day as to the course of the government。 I remember Commodore Vanderbilt came down to see me in shirt…sleeves and slippers that afternoon； with a handkerchief tied about his neck in place of a collar … a blunt man； of simple manners and a big heart； one who spoke his mind in good； plain talk； and； I suppose； he got along with as little profanity as possible； considering his many cares。 He called me 'boy'and spoke of a certain public man as a 'big sucker 。 I soon learned that to him a 'sucker'was the lowest and meanest thing in the world。 He sent me away with nothing but a great admiration of him。 As a rule； the giants of that day were plain men of the people； with no frills upon them； and with a way of hitting from the shoulder。 They said what they meant and meant it hard。 I have heard Lincoln talk when his words had the whiz of a bullet and his arm the jerk of a piston。
John Trumbull invited McClingan； of whom I had told him much； and myself to dine with him an evening that week。 I went in my new dress suit … that mark of sinful extravagance for which Fate had brought me down to the pounding of rocks under Boss McCormick。 Trumbull's rooms were a feast for the eye … aglow with red roses。 He introduced me to Margaret Hull and her mother； who were there to dine with us。 She was a slight woman of thirty then； with a face of no striking beauty； but of singular sweetness。 Her dark eyes had a mild and tender light in them； her voice a plaintive； gentle tone； the like of which one may hear rarely if ever。 For years she had been a night worker in the missions of the lower city； and many an unfortunate had been turned from the way of evil by her good offices。 I sat beside her at the table； and she told me of her work and how often she had met Trumbull in his night walks。
'Found me a hopeless heathen；'he remarked。
'To save him I had to consent to marry him；'she said； laughing。
'〃Who hath found love is already in Heaven；〃'said McClingan。 'I have not found it and I am in'' he hesitated； as if searching for a synonym。
'A boarding house on William Street；'he added。
The remarkable thing about Margaret Hull was her simple faith。 It looked to no glittering generality for its reward； such as the soul s 'highest good much talked of in the philosophy of that time。 She believed that； for every soul she saved； one jewel would be added to her crown in Heaven。 And yet she wore no jewel upon her person。 Her black costume was beautifully fitted to her fine form； but was almost severely plain。 It occurred to me that she did not quite understand her own heart； and； for that matter； who does？ But she had somewhat in her soul that passeth all understanding … I shall not try to say what； with so little knowledge of those high things； save that I know it was of God。 To what patience and unwearying effort she had schooled herself I was soon to know。
'Can you not find anyone to love you？'she said； turning to McClingan。 'You know the Bible says it is not good for man to live alone。
'It does； Madame；'said he； 'but I have a mighty fear in me； remembering the twenty…fourth verse of the twenty…fifth chapter of Proverbs： 〃It is better to dwell in the corner of the housetops than with a brawling woman in a wide house。〃 We cannot all be so fortunate as our friend Trumbull。 But I have felt the great passion。
He smiled at her faintly as he spoke in a quiet manner； his r s coming off his tongue with a stately roll。 His environment and the company had given him a fair degree of stimulation。 There was a fine dignity in his deep voice； and his body bristled with it； from his stiff and heavy shock of blonde hair parted carefully on the left side； to his high…heeled boots。 The few light hairs that stood in lonely abandonment on his upper lip； the rest of his lean visage always well shorn； had no small part in the grand effect of McClingan。
'A love story！'said Miss Hull。 'I do wish I had your confidence。 I like a real； true love story。
'A simple stawry it is；'said McClingan； 'and Jam proud of my part in it。 I shall be glad to tell the stawry if you are to hear it。
We assured him of our interest。
'Well；'said he； 'there was one Tom Douglass at Edinburgh who was my friend and dassmate。 We were together a good bit of the time； and when we had come to the end of our course we both went to engage in journalism at Glasgow。 We had a mighty conceit of ourselves … you know how it is； Brower； with a green lad … but we were a mind to be modest； with all our learning； so we made an agreement： I would blaw his horn and he would blaw mine。 We were not to lack appreciation。 He was on one paper and I on another； and every time he wrote an article I went up and down the office praising him for a man o'mighty skill； and he did the same for me。 If anyone spoke of him in my hearing I said every word of flattery at my command。 〃What Tom Douglass？〃 I would say； 〃the man o'the Herald that's written those wonderful articles from the law court？ A genius； sir！ an absolute genius！〃 Well； we were rapidly gaining reputation。 One of those days I found myself in love with as comely a lass as ever a man courted。 Her mother had a proper curiosity as to my character。 I referred them to Tom Douglass of the Herald … he was the only man there who had known me well。 The girl and her mother both went to him。
〃Your friend was just here；〃 said the young lady； when I called again。 〃He is a very handsome man。〃
'〃And a noble man！〃 I said。
〃And didn t I hear you say that he was a very skilful man； too？〃
'〃A genius！〃 I answered； 〃an absolute genius！〃
McClingan stopped and laughed heartily as he took a sip of water。
'What happened then？'said Miss I…lull。
'She took him on my recommendation；'he answered。 'She said that； while he had the handsomer face； I had the more eloquent tongue。 And they both won for him。 And； upon me honour as a gentleman； it was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me； for she became a brawler and a scold。 My mother says there is 〃no the like o'her in Scotland〃。
I shall never forget how fondly Margaret Hull patted the brown cheek of Trumbull with her delicate white band； as we rose。
'We all have our love stawries；'said McClingan。
'Mine is better than yours；'she answered； 'but it shall never be told。
'Except one little part if it；'said Trumbull； as he put his hands upon her