the Graves of Our Glorious Dead and the Sewing Circle for the Widows and Orphans of the
Confederacy. This new honor came to her after an exciting joint meeting of those societies which threatened to end in violence and the severance of lifelong ties of friendship. The question had arisen at the meeting as to whether or not weeds should be removed from the graves of the Union soldiers near those of Confederate soldiers. The appearance of the scraggly Yankee mounds defeated all the efforts of the ladies to beautify those of their own dead. Immediately the fires which smoldered beneath tight basques flamed wildly and the two organizations split up and glared hostilely. The Sewing Circle was in favor of the removal of the weeds, the Ladies of the Beautification were violently opposed.
Mrs. Meade expressed the views of the latter group when she said: "Dig up the weeds off Yankee graves? For two cents, I'd dig up all the Yankees and throw them in the city dump!"
At these ringing words the two associations arose and every lady spoke her mind and no
one listened. The meeting was being held in Mrs. Merriwether's parlor and Grandpa Merriwether, who had been banished to the kitchen, reported afterwards that the noise sounded just like the opening guns of the battle of Franklin. And, he added, he guessed it was a dinged sight safer to be present at the battle of Franklin than at the ladies' meeting.
Somehow Melanie made her way to the center of the excited throng and somehow made
her usually soft voice heard above the tumult. Her heart was in her throat with fright at daring to address the indignant gathering and her voice shook but she kept crying: "Ladies! Please!" till the din died down.
"I want to say--I mean, I've thought for a long time that--that not only should we pull up the weeds but we should plant flowers on--I--I don't care what you think but every time I go to take flowers to dear Charlie's grave, I always put some on the grave of an unknown Yankee which is near by. It--it looks so forlorn!"
The excitement broke out again in louder words and this time the two organizations
merged and spoke as one.
"On Yankee graves! Oh, Melly, how could you! "And they killed Charlie!" "They almost killed you!" "Why, the Yankees might have killed Beau when he was born!" "They tried to burn you out of Tara!"
Melanie held onto the back of her chair for support, almost crumpling beneath the weight
of a disapproval she had never known before.
"Oh, ladies!" she cried, pleading. "Please, let me finish! I know I haven't the right to speak on this matter, for none of my loved ones were killed except Charlie, and I know where he lies, thank God! But there are so many among us today who do not know where their sons and
husbands and brothers are buried and--"
She choked and there was a dead silence in the room.
Mrs. Meade's flaming eyes went somber. She had made the long trip to Gettysburg after
the battle to bring back Darcy's body but no one had been able to tell her where he was buried.
Somewhere in some hastily dug trench in the enemy's country. And Mrs. Allan's mouth quivered.
Her husband and brother had been on that ill-starred raid Morgan made into Ohio and the last information she had of them was that they fell on the banks of the river, just as the Yankee cavalry stormed up. She did not know where they lay. Mrs. Allison's son had died in a Northern prison camp and she, the poorest of the poor, was unable to bring his body home. There were others who had read on casualty lists: "Missing--believed dead," and in those words had learned the last news they were ever to learn of men they had seen march away.
They turned to Melanie with eyes that said: "Why do you open these wounds again?
These are the wounds that never heal--the wounds of not knowing where they lie."
Melanie's voice gathered strength in the stillness of the room.
"Their graves are somewhere up in the Yankees' country, just like the Yankee graves are here, and oh, how awful it would be to know that some Yankee woman said to dig them up
and--"
Mrs. Meade made a small, dreadful sound.
"But how nice it would be to know that some good Yankee woman--And there must be
some good Yankee women. I don't care what people say, they can't all be bad! How nice it would be to know that they pulled weeds off our men's graves and brought flowers to them, even if they were enemies. If Charlie were dead in the North it would comfort me to know that
someone--And I don't care what you ladies think of me," her voice broke again, "I will withdraw from both clubs and I'll--I'll pull up every weed off every Yankee's grave I can find and I'll plant flowers, too--and--I just dare anyone to stop me!"