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A Resumed Identity · Short Ghost and Horror Stories Collection

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  Speaker 1: A resumed identity by Ambrose Bierce, Chapter one, a review
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  Speaker 1: as a form of welcome. One summer night, a man
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  Speaker 1: stood on a low hill, overlooking a wide expanse of
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  Speaker 1: forest and field by the full moon hanging low in
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  Speaker 1: the west. He knew what he might not have known otherwise,
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  Speaker 1: that it was near the hour of dawn. A light
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  Speaker 1: mist lay along the earth, partially veiling the lower features
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  Speaker 1: of the landscape, but above it, the taller trees showed
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  Speaker 1: in well defined masses against a clear sky. Two or
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  Speaker 1: three farm houses were visible through the haze, but in
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  Speaker 1: none of them, naturally, was a light. Nowhere, indeed, was
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  Speaker 1: any sign or suggestion of life, except the barking of
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  Speaker 1: a distant dog, which repeated with mechanical iteration, served rather
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  Speaker 1: to accentuate then dispel the loneliness of the scene. The
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  Speaker 1: man looked curiously about him on all sides, as one who,
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  Speaker 1: among familiar surroundings, is unable to determine his exact place
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  Speaker 1: and part in the scheme of things. It is so
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  Speaker 1: perhaps that we shall act, when risen from the dead,
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  Speaker 1: we await the call of judgment. One hundred yards away
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  Speaker 1: was a straight road showing white in the moonlight, endeavoring
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  Speaker 1: to orient himself as a surveyor or a navigator might say.
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  Speaker 1: The man moved his eyes slowly along its visual length,
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  Speaker 1: and at a distance of a quarter of a mile
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  Speaker 1: to the south of his station, saw dim and gray
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  Speaker 1: in the haze. A group of horsemen riding to the north.
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  Speaker 1: Behind them were men afoot marching in column with dimly
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  Speaker 1: gleaming rifles slant above their shoulders. They moved slowly in silence.
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  Speaker 1: Another group of horsemen, another regiment of infantry, another and another,
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  Speaker 1: all in unceasing motion, toward the man's point of view,
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  Speaker 1: passed it, and beyond a battery of artillery followed the cannoneers,
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  Speaker 1: riding with folded arms on lumber and caisson. And still
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  Speaker 1: the interminable procession came out of the obscurity to the
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  Speaker 1: south and passed to the obscurity to the north, with
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  Speaker 1: never a sound of voice, nor hoof nor wheel. The
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  Speaker 1: man could not rightly understand. He thought himself deaf say so,
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  Speaker 1: and heard his own voice, although it had an unfamiliar
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  Speaker 1: quality that almost alarmed him. It disappointed his ear's expectation
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  Speaker 1: in the matter of timber and residence. But he was
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  Speaker 1: not death, and that for the moment sufficed. Then he
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  Speaker 1: remembered that there are natural phenomena to which someone has
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  Speaker 1: given the name acoustic shadows. If you stand in an
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  Speaker 1: acoustic shadow, there is one direction from which you will
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  Speaker 1: hear nothing. At the Battle of gaines Mill, one of
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  Speaker 1: the fiercest conflicts of the Civil War, with a hundred
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  Speaker 1: guns in play, spectators a mile and a half away
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  Speaker 1: on the opposite side of the Chickahomne Valley heard nothing
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  Speaker 1: of what they clearly saw. The bombardment of Port Royal,
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  Speaker 1: heard and felt at Saint Augustine, one hundred and fifty
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  Speaker 1: miles to the south, was inaudible. Two miles to the
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  Speaker 1: north in a still atmosphere. A few days before the
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  Speaker 1: surrender at Appomattox, a thunderous engagement between the commands of
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  Speaker 1: Sheridan and Pickett was unknown to the latter commander, a
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  Speaker 1: mile in the rear of his own line. These instances
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  Speaker 1: were not known to the man to whom we write,
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  Speaker 1: but less striking ones of the same character had not
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  Speaker 1: escaped his observation. He was profoundly disquieted, but for another
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  Speaker 1: reason than the uncanny silence of that moonlit march. Good Lord,
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  Speaker 1: he said to himself, and again it was as if
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  Speaker 1: another had spoken his thought. If those people are what
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  Speaker 1: I take them to be, we have lost the battle,
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  Speaker 1: and we are moving on to Nashville. Then came a
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  Speaker 1: thought of self, an apprehension, a strong sense of personal peril,
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  Speaker 1: such as in another we call fear. He stepped quickly
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  Speaker 1: into the shadow of a tree, and then the silent
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  Speaker 1: battalions moved slowly forward in the haze. The chill of
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  Speaker 1: a sudden breeze upon the back of his neck drew
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  Speaker 1: his attention to the quarter. Whence it came, and turning
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  Speaker 1: to the east, he saw a faint gray light along
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  Speaker 1: the horizon, the first sign of returning day. This increased
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  Speaker 1: his apprehension. I must get away from here, he thought,
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  Speaker 1: or I shall be discovered and taken. He moved out
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  Speaker 1: of the shadow, walking rapidly toward the graying east. From
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  Speaker 1: a safer seclusion of a clump of cedars. He looked back.
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  Speaker 1: The entire column had passed out of sight. A straight
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  Speaker 1: white road lay bare and desolate in the moonlight. Puzzled
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  Speaker 1: before he was now inexpressibly astonished, so swift a passing
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  Speaker 1: of so slow an army he could not comprehend. Minute
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  Speaker 1: after minute passed unnoted he had lost his sense of time.
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  Speaker 1: He sought with a terrible eagerness a solution of the mystery,
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  Speaker 1: but sought in vain. When at last he roused himself
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  Speaker 1: from his abstraction, the sun's rim was visible above the hills,
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  Speaker 1: but in the new conditions he found no other light
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  Speaker 1: than that of day. His understanding was involved as darkly
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  Speaker 1: in doubt as before. On every side lay cultivated fields,
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  Speaker 1: showing no sign of war or war's ravages. From the
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  Speaker 1: chimneys of the farm houses, thin ascensions of blue smoke
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  Speaker 1: signaled preparation for a day's peaceful toil, Having stilled its
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  Speaker 1: immemorial allocution to the moon. The watchdog was assisting a negro, who,
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  Speaker 1: prefixing a team of mules to the plow, was flattening
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  Speaker 1: and sharpening contently at his task. The hero of this
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  Speaker 1: tale stared stupidly at the pastoral picture, as if he
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  Speaker 1: had never seen such a thing in all his life.
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  Speaker 1: Then he put his hand to his head, passed it
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  Speaker 1: through his hair, and, withdrawing it attentively, considered the palm
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  Speaker 1: a singular thing to do, apparently reassured by the act,
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  Speaker 1: he walked confidently toward the road. Chapter two, When you
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  Speaker 1: have lost your life, consult a physician. Doctor Stilling Mulson
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  Speaker 1: of Murfreesboro, having visited a patient six or seven miles
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  Speaker 1: away on the Nashville Road, had remained with him all night.
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  Speaker 1: At daybreak, he set out for home on horseback, as
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  Speaker 1: was the custom of doctors of the time and regent.
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  Speaker 1: He had passed into the neighborhood of Stone's River Battlefield
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  Speaker 1: when a man approached him from the roadside and saluted
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  Speaker 1: in a military fashion, with a movement of the right
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  Speaker 1: hand to the hat brim. But the hat was not
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  Speaker 1: a military hat. The man was not in uniform and
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  Speaker 1: had not a military bearing. The doctor nodded civilly, half
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  Speaker 1: thinking that the stranger's uncommon greeting was perhaps in deference
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  Speaker 1: to the historic surroundings. As the stranger evidently desired speech
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  Speaker 1: with him, He courteously reined in his horse and waited. Sir,
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  Speaker 1: said the stranger, Although a civilian, you are perhaps an enemy.
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  Speaker 1: I am a physician, said the non committal reply. Thank you,
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  Speaker 1: said the other, I am a lieutenant of the staff
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  Speaker 1: of General Hazen. He paused a moment and looked sharply
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  Speaker 1: at the person whom he was addressing, and then added,
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  Speaker 1: of the Federal army. The physician nearly nodded, kindly, tell me,
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  Speaker 1: continued the other, What has happened here? Where are the
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  Speaker 1: armies which has won the battle? The physician regarded his
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  Speaker 1: questioner curiously with half shut eyes. After a professional scrutiny
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  Speaker 1: prolonged to the limit of politeness. Pardon me, he said,
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  Speaker 1: one asking the information, will be willing to impart it.
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  Speaker 1: Are you wounded? He added, smiling, not seriously, it seems.
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  Speaker 1: The man removed his unmilitary hat, put his hand on
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  Speaker 1: his head, passing it through his hair, and withdrawing it
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  Speaker 1: attentively considered the palm. I was struck by a bullet
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  Speaker 1: and have been unconscious. It must have been a light
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  Speaker 1: glancing blow. I find no blood and feel no pain.
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  Speaker 1: I will not trouble you for treatment, but will you
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  Speaker 1: kindly direct me to my command to any part of
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  Speaker 1: the Federal army if you know again? The doctor did
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  Speaker 1: not immediately reply. He was recalling much that was recorded
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  Speaker 1: in the books of his profession, something about lost identity
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  Speaker 1: and the effect of fami your scenes in restoring it.
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  Speaker 1: At length, he looked the man in the face, smiled
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  Speaker 1: and said, lou tenant, you are not wearing a uniform
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  Speaker 1: of your rank and service. At this, the man glanced
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  Speaker 1: down to his civilian attire, lifted his eyes, and said,
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  Speaker 1: with hesitation, that is true. I I don't quite understand. Still,
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  Speaker 1: regarding him sharply, but not unsympathetically, the man of science
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  Speaker 1: bluntly inquired, how old are you twenty three? If that
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  Speaker 1: has anything to do with it, you don't look it.
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  Speaker 1: I should hardly have guessed you to be just that.
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  Speaker 1: The man was growing impatient. We need not discuss that.
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  Speaker 1: He said, I want to know about the army. Not
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  Speaker 1: two hours ago, I saw a column of troops moving
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  Speaker 1: northward on this road. You must have met them. Be
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  Speaker 1: good enough to tell me the color of their clothing,
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  Speaker 1: which I was unable to make out. And I'll trouble
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  Speaker 1: you no more. You are quite sure you saw them. Sure,
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  Speaker 1: my god, sir, I could have counted them. Why, really,
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  Speaker 1: said the physician, with an amusing consciousness of his own
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  Speaker 1: resemblance to the loquacious barber of the Arabian Nights. This
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  Speaker 1: is very interesting. I met no troops. The man looked
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  Speaker 1: at him, coldly, as if he had himself observed the
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  Speaker 1: likeness to the barber. It is plain, he said that
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  Speaker 1: you do not care to assist me, sir, you may
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  Speaker 1: go to the devil. He turned and strode away, very
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  Speaker 1: much at random, across the dewy fields, his half penitent
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  Speaker 1: tormentor quietly watching him from the point of vantage in
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  Speaker 1: the saddle, until he disappeared beyond the array of trees.
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  Speaker 1: Chapter three, The Dangers of looking into a pool of water.
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  Speaker 1: After leaving the road, the man slackened his pace and
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  Speaker 1: now went forward rather deviously, with a distant feeling of fatigue.
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  Speaker 1: He could not account for this, though, truly the interminable
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  Speaker 1: loquacity of that country, doctor offered itself in explanation. Seating
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  Speaker 1: himself on a rock, he laid one hand upon his knee,
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  Speaker 1: looked upward, and casually looked at it. It was lean
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  Speaker 1: and withered. He lifted both hands to his face. It
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  Speaker 1: was seamed and furrowed. He could trace the lines with
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  Speaker 1: the tips of his fingers. How strange, a mere bullet
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  Speaker 1: stroke and a brief unconsciousness should not have made one
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  Speaker 1: a physical wreck. I must have been a long time
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  Speaker 1: in hospital, he said aloud, Why what a fool I am?
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  Speaker 1: The battle was in December, and it is now summer.
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  Speaker 1: He laughed, No wonder that fellow thought me an escaped ludatic.
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  Speaker 1: He was wrong. I am only an escaped patient. At
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  Speaker 1: a little distant a small plot of ground, enclosed by
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  Speaker 1: a stone wall, caught his attention. With no very definite intent,
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  Speaker 1: he arose and went to it. In the center was
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  Speaker 1: a square, solid monument of hewn stone. It was brown
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  Speaker 1: with age, weather worn at the angles, spotted with moss
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  Speaker 1: and lichen. Between the massive blocks where strips of grass,
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  Speaker 1: the leverage of whose roots had pushed them apart. In
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  Speaker 1: answer to the challenge of this ambitious structure, Time had
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  Speaker 1: laid his destroying hand upon it, and it would soon
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  Speaker 1: be won. With Nineveh and tire. In an inscription on
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  Speaker 1: one side, his eyes caught a familiar name. Shaking with excitement,
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  Speaker 1: he craned his body across the wall and read Hazen's
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  Speaker 1: Brigade to the memory of its soldiers who fell at
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  Speaker 1: Stone River December thirty one, eighteen sixty two. The man
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  Speaker 1: fell back from the wall, faint and sick. Almost within
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  Speaker 1: arm's length was a little depression in the earth. It
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  Speaker 1: had been filled by a recent rain, a pool of
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  Speaker 1: clean water. He crept to it to revive himself. Lifted
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  Speaker 1: the upper part of his body on his trembling arms,
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  Speaker 1: thrust forward his head, and saw the reflection of his
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  Speaker 1: face as in a mirror. He uttered a terrible cry.
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  Speaker 1: His arms gave way. He well face downward into the pool,
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  Speaker 1: and yielded up the life that had spanned another life.
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  Speaker 1: The End of a Resumed Identity by Ambrose Bierce